Monday, September 08, 2003
| Week 01 - 2003/2004 |
Walking up the stairs to enter the sports bar, with the glow of three massive big screens off in the distance, I imagine that the trip through the afterlife tunnel into heaven might feel something like this.
It's not really the bar that has me thrilled, it's opening Sunday in the NFL. I have been giddy since waking up this morning. I feel good about the Chargers, and I feel good about spending the next 7 hours or so experiencing sensory overload due to the Chargers, chicken wings, fantasy stats, ass-crippling chairs, and Hank Williams Jr. singing the national anthem.
Ten minutes or so after entering the bar, here comes my man... Crazy Fish Guy. The legend of Crazy Fish Guy began about 3 years ago. Back then, he was just some weird lonely Dolphins fan that was always in the bar, and we were all sort of afraid to make contact with him. Since then, he's established his very own place in all of our hearts. Let me paint a picture as best I can.
Crazy Fish Guy is in his 40's, I'd guess, and always comes to the bar by himself. Good-sized beer gut, always covered by a tight sweatshirt or t-shirt with some prominent pit stains. He's got oversized, slightly-tinted glasses, sloppy dark hair, ever-present stubble, and a fairly strong southwestern Pennsylvania country music accent. There is always a gambling sheet sticking out of his pocket. I've never seen him in anything other than jeans, aqua and orange, and if I did, I wouldn't recognize him. I have no idea what his real name is, in fact, I hope he doesn't have one. I'd like to believe that when he goes home, his wife and children (in the unlikely event of their existence), call him Crazy Fish Guy.
After seeing Crazy Fish Guy for weeks and weeks and being a little creeped out by him, one day he takes the initiative and just sits down at our table. Uncomfortable silence ensues. We all kind of try to look at each other without letting Crazy Fish Guy know we're all looking at each other. We've seen him wander around and try to latch onto other tables before, but he's never done it to us. We can't believe it's really happening, and we're a little scared.
Crazy Fish Guy asks how everyone feels about the over/under in the Steelers game. We ask what it is, and he whips out the gambling sheet, which looks more like a table of specs for NASA's next mission. It's a parlay card on crack. To any game the conversation turns, Crazy Fish Guy has money on it. He likes to bet the over on every game, it seems. Crazy Fish Guy has what appears to be a serious gambling problem.
Over time, we all grow more comfortable with Crazy Fish Guy, and from time to time, we can discuss football with him, and he can discuss the ramifications of our observations on the bets he'll be laying down. We talk every weekend, but for no more than five minutes. Even so, a Sunday without seeing him feels incomplete, but if our visit exceeded five minutes, I might need months of therapy to recover. My relationship with Crazy Fish Guy is right where it should be.
Anyway, Crazy Fish Guy makes an appearance, and my world makes sense again. Everything is as it should be. He sat down at our table, I asked him if the listened to the WVU game last night, and said, "Yeah, I'm glad I took 'em, the spot went up to 10 and a half, but I kept 'em anyway." And then he went away.
On with the rest of the Sunday.
Kickoff is about 5 minutes away, my leg is shaking, and I look at the TV and yell "Fuck you, Priest" a few times in succession. I am out of control. The games on the menu are Steelers/Ravens, Chargers/Chiefs, and Dolphins/Texans. I love football.
It takes the Chiefs about 8 seconds to score. In a period of about 5 minutes, I went from deliriously giddy to hopelessly downtrodden. The Chiefs cut through the Chargers D like T.T. Boy through... I dunno. Something.
Fantasy Football Fans are out of control. I don't mean fantasy football players, I have a fantasy team, I love and support them. But getting loud in a bar every time one of your players has a 6-yard carry is ridiculous. Being loud and drawing attention to yourself when the Steelers score, and then again when the Ravens score... that's bad form. That's embarrassing. Respect the people that are there with a sincere love for their real team.
I wish to kick Dick Vermeil down a flight of stairs. I won't apologize for it.
Aaron Smith make a play in the Ravens backfield, gets up and does the trademark Joey Porter kick, and points at Joey on the sidelines. Nice little moment. It would've made Dick Vermeil cry if he wasn't busy carving up the Chargers.
Chargers left tackle Damion McIntosh has given up a ridiculously easy sack, and false started, which prompted the first Ed Hochuli sighting of the year. Ed Hochuli is a beast. He could start at linebacker for about 12 NFL teams. I wish he'd throw his flag, turn on his mic and say, "False start, #77 on the offense... there will be no 15-yard penalty, but I will, right now, proceed to whomp his ass." And then he'd grab #77, pull his jersey up over his head, and whale on him for a while.
The Chargers can't do anything right. Dropped passes, blown coverages, missed blocks... This is a nightmare.
I've become so bitter that I'm wishing for someone to poke Orlando Brown in his bad eye, for no real reason. I won't apologize for... OK, I'll apologize for that one. Sorry Orlando.
Ray-Ray Lewis makes a play and does Joey Porter's kick. Dick move.
Highlight: Lawyer Milloy sacks Tom Brady. The Pats, shut out in week one. When Milloy signed a contract with the Bills, did it include a "thanks for the other team's playbook" bonus?
Other than their secondary, pass rush, run defense, passing game, and running game, the Chargers look outstanding.
Kendrell Bell just made definitive and prolonged hand-to-nether-regions contact with Kyle Boller. I can't imagine that will be one of Kyle's favorite memories from his first ever NFL game, but it will definitely be a memory. After the game, I think I saw Bell walk up to Boller, put his arm around him and say, "Hey, good game... sorry I touched your junk. Incidental contact."
The Chargers are terrible. I feel like I've woken up on Christmas morning to find Santa Claus strangled and hanging from my living room chandelier.
Chris Chambers makes a ridiculous one-handed touchdown catch in the back of the endzone for the Fish. Crazy Fish guy has no reaction, probably because it doesn't look like the Fish are going to cover at this point. The Texans/Fish game is tight. Incidentally, the bar is teeming with Fish fans today. I'd like to believe that they're all illegitimate children of Crazy Fish Guy.Highlight: Sam Adams interception return for a touchdown. Yes, THE Sam Adams. Sam Adams has speed that is just not natural for a man his size. He was outrunning offensive linemen, which doesn't sound like a huge accomplishment, but come on... it's Sam fucking Adams.
Hines Ward and Chris McAllister have a nice feud going. Their hands are on each others' facemasks after every play. It's a battle that Hines is clearly winning. The Steelers are controlling the Ravens. Tommy Maddox looks like the MVP.
David Boston has apparently ceased to exist. The Chief secondary has him bottled up, which is not good.
The Texans take a 15-14 lead on the Fish. Every time I look up, Corey Bradford, Andre Johnson or Jabbar Gaffney are getting loose in the Dolphins secondary.
Coming back from commercial, CBS is showing the making of a Primanti Brothers sandwich at a Heinz Field concession stand. The sandwich looks money, but the person making it is throwing things together, and has no plastic glove on. It's skin on fries, skin on tomato, skin on meat, in succession. That's a bit of a concern. I don't want to assume that any individual is overly dirty, but in the "List of Occupations Most Likely to Have Outstanding Personal Hygiene," Heinz Field concessions worker isn't going to crack the top 10.
Ray Lewis, his team trailing 27-7, is talking trash to Steelers RB Verron Haynes. Haynes is laughing in his face.
Highlight: Indianapolis takes a 9-6 lead late in the game. How have the Browns held the Colts to 3 field goals? Makes little sense.
The Chargers Drayton Florence catches a punt, and stops to throw the ball across the field, only he throws it about 6 yards upfield. When I was a kid playing touch football, you could yell "spot" on a kick return, stop in place, and throw the ball downfield. Someone apparently told Drayton Florence that the NFL has enacted a similar policy. Sideline shot of the Chargers special teams coach, who should resign right now. Don't even wait for the game to end. Do the right thing, man, and just admit you are a failure.
John Stamos, Greece's favorite son, makes an appearance in a 10-10-Whatever commercial. I don't know how much the 10-10 people are paying John Stamos, but can it be worth it? Is there anyone out there who values John Stamos's word on anything? You know what I'd like to see? I'd like to see Snoop Dogg do a commercial for 10-10-187. "I'm dialin' 1-8-7 with my (beep) in your mouth, (beep)ATCH."
I've never been a fan of the Gatorade commercial where Yao Ming, Derek Jeter, and Peyton Manning ask if Jimmy can come out and play, but what if it was Anthony Mason, Edgerrin James, and C.C. Sabathia stopping by and asking if Jimmy can come out and play? How would that work, mom?
With 5:30 left in the fourth quarter, a David Boston sighting. Glad you could join us today, David.
The Texans are down 5 against the Fish... and driving.
San Diego and Baltimore score simultaneous meaningless touchdowns. The late-game meaningless touchdown is an odd feeling. The pain of getting dominated is there, and it isn't going away, but still, the TD is nice, even if I can't quite admit it right now. It's kind of like being dumped by the love of your life, but having her call back in an hour and tell you that you have tremendous sexual abilities. The pain still overrides everything, but it is something hopeful for the future.
A guy walks into the bar with a Saints Ricky Williams jersey on, but he's taped over Williams name and #34, and and wrote "McALLISTER" over Williams, and put a 26 over the 34. He had the same jersey last year. It was kind of amusing then, but it's time to turn the page, fella.
My girlfriend walks by. We speak briefly. She is a waitress. We speak a maximum of 17 times a year, always within the customer/waitress relationship structure, but she's always so nice and has an adorable smile, and I believe she is my girlfriend. She has no idea, but we have a wonderful relationship. Last year, I made an engagement ring for her out of a cocktail napkin, but was unable to give it to her. I just couldn't find the right moment in the Chargers/Broncos game to get down on one knee, and do it right. But alas, she is not my waitress today. With an endearing smile, she says she'll send another waitress to our table, and as she walks away, I ask her to marry me. Sadly, she didn't hear me. But today, she won't even be bringing me ice water. I feel like I need to spice our relationship up somehow.
The Texans intercept Jay Fiedler. The Fish are in trouble.
The Texans are not going to be an easy win for anyone this year. They play very solid defense. They can run the ball. They have playmakers at receiver.
A Dallas Cowboys cheerleader is singing the national anthem for the Cowboys/Falcons game. In her cheerleader outfit. Only in America can you dress like a Texas hooker, sing the national anthem in front of 60,000 people, bang an entire defensive live, and do a photo spread for Penthouse all in one weekend, and then teach kindergarten the next day. U-S-A! U-S-A!
Kris Brown buried a field goal, and the Fish go down in week one. Three guys on the CBS panel picked the Fish to win the entire AFC before the game started, and my buddy Chris said right then that they had no chance. He was right. At least they didn't wait until December to completely melt down.
Heard from a fan sitting behind me, at the start of the Cowboys/Falcons game. "Why isn't Vick in?" That guy is probably the doormat in three fantasy leagues.
Heard from a different guy sitting behind me: "You know, the Cowboys really aren't that good." It's this kind of insightful analysis that you can get only at the Sports Bar on Sunday.
The Budweiser commercial where the ref explains that a personal foul penalty is a "make-good" call for an earlier pass interference call is excellent. I feel like buying some Budweiser, and I don't even like Budweiser. I'll pour it down the drain, just to show my support of them over Coors Light. Maybe I'll just mail the Budweiser people a check. And the Coors people a photocopy of my ass.
Doug Johnson throws a pass downfield that I wouldn't throw if I was at home playing Madden while stoned out of my mind. The receiver couldn't have been surrounded by more Cowboys if he was in a San Antonio gay rodeo bar.
Mario Edwards, corner for the Cowboys is the newest member of the All-Neck team, a group of players that my friends and I recognize for having substantial neck length. Harvey Williams is the head coach, Merton Hanks is the team president.
A guy who has been cheering loudly for the Cowboys goes crazy for a 49ers blocked punt. I don't know if he's ADD or a serious Fantasy Fan, but his behavior is not excusable.
Alright, there's a serious problem in the NFL. Quincy Carter and Garrison Hearst are men with very dark skin, and they're both wearing Breathe-Right strips that were made to match the skin-tone of Wilford Brimley. I don't know if the Breathe-Right people make one in a darker color, or a clear one, but it's a problem. When the shadows are right in Texas Stadium, it looks like there's just a light tan Breathe-Right strip floating around in Quincy Carter's helmet.
Steve Mariucci's postgame speech to his team was outstanding. I've never heard a coach give fans that much credit. It sounds like his team likes him, and like they're all buying into the family concept. I bet the Lions wish they could just call a press conference tomorrow and announce that they're done with their season. They're happy with their one win, and they're going home.
Howie Long reports that Kurt Warner may have sustained a concussion early in the Rams/Giants game. It would help explain his atrocious performance, but I'm not buying it, for two reasons. One, I think Mike Martz is absolutely married to the idea of Kurt Warner as his starting quarterback, and is trying to blame a non-existent concussion for his struggles today, so he can plug him back into the line-up next week when I'm sure he'll be fully recovered. Two, I think Martz wants to visit Warner in his New York hospital room and give him a thorough sponge bath.
The 49ers' Dennis Erickson hiring looks very good, mostly thanks to Kordell Stewart and his non-existent offensive line. Kordell threw some terrible interceptions, but he was being chased all day. It's like their line is composed of five Damion McIntoshes.
Joe Buck is a complete loser. If he and Paul McGuire were ever on the same broadcast team, the suicide rate among American football fans would increase dramatically.
Peerless Price is doing a terrific David Boston impersonation. He's a ghost all game, and makes an appearance with 4:55 left to play in the fourth quarter. The chances of Peerless Price emerging is a viable #1 receiver seem quite slim.
The Bears look like a terrible terrible team. No offensive line, very little passing game, very little running game, and a defense that isn't going to be able to overcome any of that. They do have some quality defenders, but all-around, their defense isn't good enough to put the team on its back and carry it to victories all by itself. The Bears have 2-14 potential. Their performance made the Chargers look respectable by comparison.
This Dr. Pepper commercial needs a lot more Anastacia, a lot less Cyndi Lauper, and to be muted every time it comes on.
All the 4:00 games are pretty much over. My ass is absolutely numb. Time to go home.
