When Bad Football Happens to Good People

This past Sunday we were all hurt. Go ahead, let it out, we’re all feeling it. Football season is over and that, that is how it ended.

We expected some discomfort because we were being forced to watch the insufferable Patriots again. But the level of pain we were subjected to was a shock. Missed field goals, dropped passes, bad passes, bad officiating, missed blocks, missed tackles, punt after punt after punt, no scoring.

At the party I attended people were openly weeping, begging deities of all religions to save us. My brother converted to Rastafarianism thinking the music of Eek-a-Mouse would calm his transient nausea, but the last I saw he was in the corner mumbling about not having enough hair to grow dreadlocks. The rest of us called in a pastor for an explanation. We had done nothing wrong, so why were we being punished? As the seconds wound down on the first quarter the pastor himself was on his knees crying to the heavens “Oh God why hast thou forsaken us? They can’t even kick a field goal!”

Mid-way through the second quarter we were so lost we called in a philosopher to help us with our existential dread. His Jean-Paul Sartre quotes of “man is a useless passion” and “nothingness haunts being” were not helpful. By the time he was deep into Nietzsche’s treatise on the abyss we were angry. Punching him wasn’t soothing so we kicked him instead which acted as a mild balm for our wounds. We left him outside contemplating the puddle of snot pooling around his nose and mumbling Heidegger nonsense.

The game was a brutal examination of ineptitude that we dragged behind us like a boat anchor. “Maybe the half time show will cheer us up,” we thought. Music is a great healer.

I think it was my sister who snapped first. “Turn it off, turn it off!” she yelled. “Music isn’t supposed to sound like that!” Every note was like a pill caught in our collective throats. The air became heavy and unbreathable. With each article of clothing Adam Levine took off, the songs got exponentially worse until it sounded like a combination of Mongolian throat singing and Coldplay.

We were barely hanging onto our sanity by the time the second half started. We watched the whole 3^rd quarter under the influence of peyote, hoping to hallucinate a good game. It started off ok as I saw Joe Montana riding a white stallion, throwing passes with both hands to a thousand receivers named Jerry. Unfortunately, a dragon from my niece’s delusion invaded mine and ate Montana. After that the field melted into an ice cream bar filled with trolls, loose change and multiple Walter Matthaus.

The end of the game was chaos. One of my brother’s had his head buried in the cheese dip murmuring “I can’t watch anymore, I can’t.” My sister, on the edge of a nervous breakdown since halftime, was reading Dickens loudly to drown out Tony Romo’s voice: “ ‘IT WAS THE BEST OF TIMES, IT WAS THE WORST OF TIMES . . .’ ” My other brother was on eBay trying to win an auction for an ICBM to blow up the stadium but kept getting out-bid by a penny by some Russian account. My niece took more peyote and was lying prone on the floor. “I’m righteous,” was all she said when asked any question. I was outside walking the neighborhood ringing a bell shouting “10 o’clock and all is not well, 10 o’clock and all is not well.”

What happened to all of us on Sunday was unfair. As football fans, casual gamblers and people who just like eating at parties, we deserved better. Baseball season starts in a few weeks. Perhaps the boredom of that will erase the bad memories of Super Bowl 53.

Brought to You by . . .

My sister and I were listening to a football game on the radio and chuckling at all the sponsorship reads the announcers had to do. When they gave scores for other games there was a sponsor to mention, when they discussed a great play, it became the “play of the game” which of course had a sponsor. It made me wonder what a broadcast will be in a few years:

“Hello everybody this is Big Dave Stucky comin’ at ya from Met Life Stadium where the Jets are taking on the Patriots. My introduction was sponsored by Overbrook Electronics of Trenton New Jersey. And now let’s welcome my partner, former all pro running back Glenn Forster and his sponsor Taco Bill’s on route 1.”

“Thanks Dave, I love me some tacos.”

“Sure, who doesn’t. That banter was brought to you by Moon Mobile, more talk for less money. Glenn what do the Jets have to do today to stop the Pats?”

“Well Dave, your question was brought to us by The Puritan School, a charter school for all ages. The Jets need to pressure Brady early and often to keep that offense off-balance. When the Jets are on offense they need to run the ball to control the clock. My opinion sponsored by News Channel 7, home of the news and views that help you not to think.”

“All right, we are ready for the Cheese Wiz opening kick-off. Andre Roberts receives the ball at the Nestles 3-yard line and after a few jukes sponsored by Melanie’s School of Dance of Secaucus New Jersey, he’s pulled down at the McDonald’s 24.”

“The Jets really need to get stronger on special Teams, Dave. My opinion sponsored by Haberstroh’s Haberdashery New York, New York.”

“Ok, we’re ready for the GE first play of the game. Darnold drops back and flicks a pass to Bilal Powell for a 4-yard gain. Those positive yards brought to you by Tony Robbins. Second down, brought to you by Second Chance Animal Sanctuary, and Darnold hands off to Powell who goes up the middle for 3 more yards. That puts the ball at the Quaker State 31-yard line.”

“The Jets need to establish a run game today Dave. My analysis sponsored by The Schlichter Group, a nonpartisan think tank from Washington D.C.”

“It’s Arby’s third down and Darnold throws incomplete down the middle. That incompletion brought to you by Cadillac. The Jets are in the Jack Links Beef Jerky punt formation . . .”

“They need a good kick to pin the Pats deep.”

“Glenn’s comment sponsored by Dell. The kick is taken at the Acura 15-yard line by Edelman. He cuts right and is tackled at the Snickers 25. We’ll be back after these messages.”

*****

“Welcome back everyone to the Jeep second drive of the game. Glenn?”

“Thank you, Dave. My commercial break bowel movement was brought to you by Quilted Northern. Let’s see if the Patriots can jump on the Jets early. Analysis sponsored by Wells Fargo.”

“Right you are Glenn, the Patriots love to get teams in an early hole. My agreement of your analysis brought to you by Royal Farms. Brady drops back and throws a Kentucky Fried Chicken deep pass to a Pepsi open receiver.”

“He caught it! My excitement sponsored by Texas Roadhouse!”

“Edelman has it at the Home Depot 40, he’s at the Lowe’s 35, cuts right, breaks a Pizza Hut tackle at the Netflix 29, slips another Subway tackle, he’s at the Regal Cinemas 17, the WaWa 10, Vizio 5, Apple Watch touchdown!”

“Wow! Sponsored by Jim Beam!”

“What a Stephen King’s latest blockbuster start to the game. We’ll be Miller Lite right back.”

All the News That's Fit to Fake

Welcome to the daily news, I'm Brad Fluffymuffin, sitting in for the vacationing Brock Meatthreat who took the place of the retired Harry von Speedlemeister who was given this job after many late night drinks with network president Marilyn Marilyn Shapely. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

In Florida today someone was arrested for doing something mind-bogglingly stupid involving meth or bath salts. The perpetrator was probably covered in profane tattoos and likely human excrement. Police expect to make more arrests tomorrow for similar crimes because it's Florida.

Shifting to world news now, in Belgium a satirical magazine called "Hey, Pay Attention to Us, We're Belgian" is being criticized by Hindus for a cartoon of the goddess Durga using her 8 arms to do such things as wash the dishes, change a baby's diaper, make dinner and other traditional women's household roles. The caption of the cartoon has Durga yelling to her husband "I can't get you a beer, I'm busy. What, you think I have 9 arms?" Hindu men are incensed that one of their gods has been caricatured while most Hindu women have not been allowed to read the cartoon.

In political news Mitt Romney has announced he will make another run at the White House. In response the Democrats have chosen a porcelain cup filled with green tea to run against Romney. Early polls show the cup with a 7 percentage point lead.

In the entertainment world the Oscars are coming up. A poll of 45 kittens at a local shelter show wide-spread support for Ratatouille. When told that film is actually 7 years old and not nominated this year, food bowls were overturned in anger and our reporter was hissed out of the room.

The weather tomorrow is scheduled to be ass-biting cold followed the next day by the brass monkey losing its balls.

The focus shifts to sports now where residents of Seattle still haven't come to grips with the Seahawks losing the Super Bowl. People are still walking the streets grabbing their crotches in solidarity with Marshawn Lynch. Others continue to make terrible decisions at work to show support for coach Pete Carroll and his last second bone-headed play call that lost some of us a great deal of money. What were you thinking Carroll? A pass when you have one of the best backs in the league against a weak goal line defense? My 8 year old made the correct play call from our living room! Big Tony is on my ass day and night. I don't have $20,000 Pete. I like the fingers on my left hand and want to keep them . . .

**The broadcast will be right back after this word from our sponsor "Dante's 5th Circle of Hell Gentleman's Club--now with human strippers"**

Ladies and gentlemen, Brad Fluffymuffin has taken a leave of absence to deal with some personal issues and spend more time with his family. I'm Dan Blunderbuss filling in.

Our last story of the night is a video submitted by a viewer from Montana. This beautiful grizzly bear decided their porch was the perfect place for a nap. Delilah Hoodle taped the sleeping giant for nearly twenty minutes before it woke up and mauled her into a bloody pulp. Isn't nature magnificent?

This has been the daily news. Good night.

Put Me in Coach

The rock band KISS has recently bought themselves an Arena Football league team and named them after themselves, the LA Kiss. I did some research and found out they aren’t the only musicians getting into the sports ownership business:

Lady Gaga and members of the Goo Goo Dolls worked together to purchase a minor league soccer team based out of Washington State. The Walla Walla Ga Ga Goo Goos are playing in their first season but struggling. Many fans are blaming their uniforms. The Gaga designed ensemble includes a loin cloth over a pair of metallic Speedos, blue and silver body paint in lieu of a shirt, cleats with six inch heals and pinched toes, and atop their heads a cap with a 3 foot replica of the space needle.

Boston bad boy Steven Tyler purchased an independent league baseball team: The Plymouth Ak-Ak-Ak-Ows. Some of their promotional attempts to attract fans have had poor results: A free ounce of marijuana to the first 100 ticket holders ended with 100 arrests by Plymouth police and “Lost in a Barbiturate Haze Night” sent 27 people to the local hospital. On the field, the team itself took a cue from its owner by tying multi-colored scarves to the end of their bats while hitting and there is 31% more crotch grabbing in an Ak-Ak-Ak-Ow game than in any other.

Pop songstress Taylor Swift bought a majority stake in a minor league basketball team, the Nashville Exes. The team started out strong, winning their first 8 games. Since then, however, Taylor has dated the entire starting five and an assistant coach causing a lot of hurt feelings and bad publicity. “I knew something was wrong on our third date,” said point guard Web “The Comet” Jordan. “All during dinner I was telling her about my favorite movies and she was writing a song chorus rhyming comet with vomit.” The team is currently riding a 13 game losing streak but Taylor has another number 1 CD with “Songs from Half Court”.

Canadian rockers Rush have become the owners of a minor league hockey team, the Yukon Snowdogs. As lifelong fans of the sport, this was a dream come true for Geddy Lee, Neil Peart and Alex Lifeson. To help gain attendance the band wrote a team song that’s played before every game. The tune, titled “Epithet for a Dying Sport: Suite Bobby Orr, Opus 243 (Drop the Puck)” has caused consternation among fans however, as it is 23 minutes long with lyrics in three different languages as well as references to Tolkien’s The Silmarillion and ancient Indian myths. Hockey is never mentioned.

These are just a few of the examples I found. Bruce Springsteen has bought himself a professional dodge ball team, U2 own a third tier tetherball franchise and rapper Flo Rida has a jai alai team called the Or Lando Playas. The list goes on and on thanks to KISS.

Dear NFL

Professional football is my favorite sport. From August to February I live, eat and breathe football. For the past few months it looked like the 2011 NFL schedule of games might be cancelled as the players and owners were in a fight over who should get how much of the $9 billion the game makes every year in revenue. As you can imagine this left me in quite the emotional state until the stalemate ended this week. The aggrieved parties are friends again, awash in cash, and the season has been saved. It prompted me to write this letter:

Dear NFL,

So, you’re coming back to me after all. I was beginning to think our 40 year relationship was over. I know why you’re upset, but it didn’t have to come to this.

Yes, after the Super Bowl each year I have my affairs: college basketball and baseball. I’ve been with baseball nearly as long as you. College basketball is younger, but it’s not like that, don’t make it dirty.

I honestly thought you knew about my other sports, I’ve never tried to hide it. As much as you claim to need me, it’s you who leaves every February. One last blowout that’s supposed to just be for the two of us but you have to make it a party and invite millions of other people. By the end of the night I’ve hardly gotten to speak to you much less enjoy your company. Then I wake up the next morning and you’re gone. The house is eerily empty. No note, no apologies, no explanations, just a ticking clock amid the silence telling me it will be 6 months until you return.

Now you’ve found out about my dalliances and you’re angry. What did you expect from me? I’m only a sports fan. If you abandon me I’m going to turn elsewhere. I won’t just sit in front of the TV watching Law and Order reruns waiting for you to return. Besides, I’ve said all along that if you’d stay I wouldn’t need these other sports. You leave a gaping hole and think I won’t reach out to fill it?

Baseball and college basketball want to be with me. I know that shocks you, but it’s true. My fandom is attractive to other sports and they don’t take me for granted. If I stop watching their games, they notice and try to woo me back. You? You just keep counting your money while the cheerleaders dance for the drunks in the stands. I’m important to baseball, but to you I’m just another Sunday afternoon cheap trick that will sit and watch the Browns vs. the Redskins and think I’m being entertained.

So now you’re back and I’m excited just like you knew I would be. I guess our dysfunctional relationship will never change because I can’t let you go. Although I’m not going to just be available anytime you want to play a meaningless pre-season game in Buffalo. Baseball season is in full swing and my Phillies are in first place. I know a good thing when I have one.

ESPN: The French Whores of the Sports World

When basketball star LeBron James was ready to announce where he was going to play basketball next year, he suggested to ESPN that he do it in an hour long special they could air called “The Decision”. I wonder what other profound names they fed to the pigs to see what got shit back out: “A Complete Waste of 60 Minutes”, “Insult to Our Intelligence”, “The LeBron James Dancing Bear Variety Hour”, “Can You Believe The Shit They Put on TV” or “’What Else is on Theater’ Starring The Who Gives a Rat’s Ass Players”.

Since it took LeBron 3 seconds to say he was going to Miami, they only had 59 minutes and 57 seconds of air time to fill with sneaker commercials and prattle from the network’s legion of talking bobbleheads.

This fiasco was LeBron’s idea and I understand why ESPN said yes. James is a singular talent and the organization he chose to play for instantly became the favorite to win the NBA championship next year. They knew basketball fans all over the world would watch. That means high ratings, which translates into money which sets the suits in their ivory towers all aquiver and leaves them sweating bourbon back into their glass of ice. In the end “The Decision” was nothing more than an ode to narcissism and it left a bad taste in every sports fan’s mouth.

I’m surprised that no one at ESPN has suggested making The Decision a weekly show. For example: This week on The Decision Shaquille O’Neal decides which team to beg for a contract allowing him one more year of non-production for which he will get paid more money than some small countries have in reserve. Don’t miss next week when the Cincinnati Bengals decide to thumb their nose at the wrath of God and sign Terrell Owens for a year.

ESPN has recently compounded their affront to journalism by spending an entire day reporting AS A FACT that Brett Favre had told the Minnesota Vikings that he was retiring from the NFL. The next day we find out it was nothing more than a rumor which Brett eventually denied by saying “I have not made a final decision because I’m a prima donna drama queen who milks TV time like a farmer’s cool, morning hand on a cow’s teats.” I’m paraphrasing but that’s what I heard.

I watched and listened to some of the coverage because it was inescapable if you’re a sports fan. ESPN tied our hands and feet to an uncomfortable vinyl-covered kitchen chair using coarse horse-hair rope and held us hostage. ESPN was definitely not reporting it as a rumor. They were acting as if it were a foregone conclusion. The only reason to report it this way is the same reason they aired “The Decision”: ratings.

So while ESPN has always been about making money like any network is, lately they have become the French whores of the sports world, selling themselves for little more than a baguette and a verse of the Marseillaise.

Bandwagons Ho!

Why are sports talk show hosts so quick to jump on and off someone’s bandwagon? These men and women are paid entirely too much money to just sit in front of a microphone all day and spout opinions about sports. Then doofuses like me listen and complain. Yes, I am helping to keep these knobs in their cushy jobs; you didn’t need to point that out.

So why is there no objectivity or real analysis among these sports talkers? The example I will use is something I just heard today. Before the NFL season started it was a consensus that the Denver Broncos weren’t going to be very good and the hiring of 32 year old Josh McDaniels as head coach was being questioned. Jay Cutler wanted out so they traded him. Brandon Marshall wanted out so they suspended him. Denver’s two best players wanted out of the organization and a lackluster preseason spelled mediocre at best for the Broncos.

Four games into the regular season Denver is 4-0. Today talking head #1 asks his co-host “Do we reassess McDaniels’ ability as head coach?” and the answer from talking head #2, “Yes, we do. He’s done a remarkable job.”

Has he? Brandon Marshall’s sudden love of his head coach could be nothing more than Marshall realizing he was flushing his career down the toilet by being branded T.O. junior. Let’s look at that 4-0 start:

Game 1: Denver-12 Bengals-7 Denver won on a fluke play with 11 seconds left. Take that away and they lose 7-6. You might say, “but the Bengals are a different team this year”. Are they? They followed up a big upset of the Steelers by going into overtime with the dreadful Cleveland Browns so how good the Bengals are is debatable.
Game 2: Denver-27 Browns-6 I could field a team of 8 high school players, 2 guys out of the stands, 4 women from a Pilates class at the local gym, 3 verbally abusive construction workers, 5 soccer players and Raider QB Jamarcus Russell and beat the Browns.
Game 3: Denver-23 Raiders-3 See above only replace Jamarcus Russell with Browns QB Derek Anderson and the Browns with the Raiders.
Game 4: Denver-17 Cowboys-10 The best team they’ve beaten this year but that’s still not saying much. If you said before the season started that Denver would beat Dallas in week 4 that would have meant more, but through 4 games Dallas is 2-2 and has turned out to be pretty quotidian. Romo looks terrible, they don’t have any big play receivers and the defense is average.

So Denver has beaten 2 horrible teams and 2 middling ones. But Talk Show Boys 1 and 2 think we have to reassess Josh McDaniels and the job he’s done. Denver is starting a stretch where they play San Diego twice, the Ravens, Steelers, Redskins and Giants. If they come out of it 8-2, 7-3 or maybe even 6-4 we can reassess the team and the coach, but they could easily be 5-5 or 4-6 after the Giants game. What will the Talk Show Twins have to say then? They will waffle back in the other direction and say “the Broncos are about what we expected them to be”.

All I want from my overpaid, ego-inflated talking heads is a little objectivity and analysis that goes beyond what I can do myself, and I’m getting neither.

James Harrison, Idiot of the Week

There is a tradition in America that the champions of the 4 major professional sports and the National Champions in the college sports get a visit to the white house for their accomplishments to be celebrated. The players and coaches get to have their photos taken with the president and chat with him for a few minutes. I don’t know why we do it, but it’s been going on for as long as I can remember.

This Thursday is the scheduled visit of the NFL’s Pittsburg Steelers who won the Super Bowl in February of this year. One player, James Harrison, has stated he won’t be going to the ceremony because he doesn’t view it as special because, “I feel like that if Arizona (Cardinals) had won, Obama would have invited them to the White House.”

Uh, yeah James, that’s kind of how it works. The WINNING team gets the perk of an invitation to the WHITE HOUSE where the MOST POWERFUL MAN IN THE WORLD lives and works. What, you wanted Obama to just invite the whole team over some random Saturday for a beer and taco night and watch an NBA playoff game together like you’re all old frat buddies? He’s THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES you dumbass, he’s a little busy.

Here’s James at the doctor’s office:
You took Mr. Schwartz right after me. I feel like if he had been here first you would have taken him before me. I’m finding another doctor.

James at the grocery store:
You waited on this lady right after ringing up my cheetos and hemorrhoid cream. I feel like if she had gotten in line before me you would have rung her up first. I’m not shopping here anymore.

James on his interception return for a touchdown in the Super Bowl:
I feel like if I had been tackled before crossing the goal line they wouldn’t have given me the touchdown. I’m retiring from football.

James Harrison, our idiot of the week!