6 years later, I still think popping your collar makes you a douchebag.

(Note: I meant to post this right after the Wild Card games last weekend, but then I got lazy and forgot.  If you don’t like it, go read a real writer.  You know, one of those people who makes actual points and writes something down that isn’t just his stream of thoughts as they come to mind.)

 

            Some writers will watch all of the NFL Playoff games this weekend, take some notes, evaluate what happened, and put together a well-written column with a single theme/thesis that manages to tie together four different games by finding a common theme between them.  These writers are weak.  Why settle for one theme when you can have 4,734 of them?  As Crash has already proved, if your piece of work has 52 plots instead of 1, your chances are that much better of winning an Oscar.  And while I may not be winning any awards for this, it does help me save the time of trying to come up with such tedious things as “transitions” and “analysis.”

 

THOUGHTS FROM WILD CARD WEEKEND

 

“The retractable roof is closed today, so it’s gonna be loud for this NFC Wild Card matchup between the Arizona Cardinals and the Atlanta Falcons.”  That’s right folks – Arizona has managed to pack 35,000 of its senior citizens into this dome, so the Falcons will be hearing all sorts of whiney cheers today, ranging from “WHERE’S my BED pan (clap, clap, clapclapclap)” to “HEY OFFENSE, TURN THE BALL OVER ALREADY AND GET OFF MY LAWN!”

 

Speaking of Arizona being old, isn’t it appropriate that Kurt Warner is their starting QB?  What if other teams looked at the Cardinals and thought to themselves “hey, maybe the reason they succeeded and made the playoffs this year is because they hired a quarterback who matched their fan base”?  The 49ers could start the league’s first openly gay quarterback.  The Bills could make their team a little bit more Canadian each year, until it’s starting an entirely eh-filled lineup by 2011.  Dallas could sign a bunch of players who love guns... oh wait, they already signed Pacman and Tank Johnson.

 

Did anybody else realize that Edgerrin James has the 11^th most rushing yards in NFL history?  I haven’t been this surprised since I learned what seals look like.  (For those of you who are unaware, I went through the first 20 years of my life with a very detailed picture in my head of what a seal looked like… and then I saw one for the first time at the Mystic Aquarium… and it wasn’t even close.  Imagine going through your whole life thinking “I like my socks, they sure are warm!”, and all of the sudden, when you’re 20 years old, someone tells you “hey dipshit, you’re supposed to put those on your feet, not your ears.”  And you realize you’ve been way, way, way off your whole life.  That’s how I felt.  I fucking hate seals now.  In my mind, Seals is just an acronym for Self Esteem Abolishing Little Shits.)

Basic math. Trust me, I'm a stats minor.

“Look at all the penetration!”  Cris Collinsworth: NFL announcer, or porn narrator?  Speaking of which, this was shortly followed by “in this case, you can’t allow penetration, and Jamal Williams, he gets penetration.”  Damn it, Jamal, no means no!

 

 

Me: “I think a Manning Bowl could be cool, except that I’d have to stop watching ESPN for two weeks leading up to it, because the overhyping would be way too ridiculous for me.”

Alex: “Well, I’m still wondering WHO’S NOW?!!!!!!!!!!!???????!!!!!!!!!!”

 

It would be way cooler if Turner was one of those elusive running backs who… you know… turned a lot, instead of a straight power runner.  And maybe his middle name could be “the”.  Michael the Turner.  Not quite as intimidating as Ivan the Terrible, but at least it would be accurate.

 

“A look at the Grand Canyon, in the great state of Arizona…”  See, it’s shots like these that make me think we should move away from putting sports teams in major cities, and start putting them in the middle of nowhere.  Wouldn’t it be awesome if this game was the Idaho Mashers vs. the Montana Ranchers?  What would they show as our scenic attraction between commercial breaks, and what would the announcers say while doing the whole I-feel-awkward-if-I’m-not-saying-something-right-now routine?  “And here’s a closeup of a potato from the great state of Idaho… sure is beautiful, isn’t it, Cris?”

Look at it! So majestic! So beautiful! So awe-inspiring!

 

Whoever said ambrosia is the food of the gods never ate pig in a blankets and chicken tenders while watching football.  Perhaps his popped collar was cutting off circulation on the way to his brain.