Monday, November 03, 2003
| Week 09 - 2003/2004 |
There are seven TVs in the joint, but the Chargers/Bears game isn't on any of them. I'm pissed, but at the same time... I do understand. It's not exactly an epic tilt between two football powerhouses that we're talking about. That's not to say that this fact stopped me from bitching, because it didn't. I found my pal, the owner, and discussed things with the girl who runs the TVs, she did a little shuffling, and soon, the Bolts are on a big screen about 10 feet in front of me.
Trent Green is visiting the CBS pre-game show this week, apparently on-hand to receive the "NFL Quarterback Most Resembling a Chipmunk" award. Congratulations, Trent, on behalf of small woodland creatures everywhere.
A Chargers win is fairly important to me this week. In light of all the things going on back in San Diego, it would just be nice to see the boys pull out a W. They spent most of the week in Chicago breathing fresh air and getting away from things, and I think they'll be in a better state of mind this week. I'm enlisting the help of all my partners at the table, Chris, AJ, Danks, Sammy, and Blohm. For the next few hours, we are a tightly-knit group of loud, obnoxious Chargers fans.
They're all cool with this, obviously, but it does spark a discussion about the late season Chargers/Steelers game for which we will most certainly not be a close-knit group of loud, obnoxious Chargers fans. Everyone in the group, with the exception of myself, is a hardcore Steelers fan. Chris asks, about that week, "Me and you... are we gonna be OK?" I don't have an answer for him.
Danks walks in wearing a Notre Dame Volleyball t-shirt. I had never before in my life seen a Notre Dame Volleyball t-shirt or a man that lacks the self-respect to wear one.
It's a bit after 1 o'clock, and we're treated to about two minutes of "Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2," and then a few more minutes of "Blue's Clues" before the games start. I, for some reason, can't stop myself from screaming, "FUCK YOU, BLUE." I am childish and depraved.
The first few passes thrown by Drew Brees fail to come within two yards of their intended receivers. He's horribly inaccurate and also makes bad decisions, which is not as bad as it sounds, because I think if he was good at just one of those things instead of zero, he'd throw a lot more picks.
The Chargers are looking absolutely horrendous at this point. I need to write a formal letter of apology to everyone in the bar for having this game put on the TV.
It just keeps getting more absurd by the minute. We can't throw, we can't run, and we can't stop the Bears from doing either with ease. For the Bears, it's 1986. I see Chris Chandler on the sidelines writing lyrics to the "We Are Going to Beat the Piss Out of the Chargers Shuffle."
I hate the all-white uniforms of the Chargers. The white is just too sharp, too clean, too bright, and too much of it. We look like pussies. On this Sunday, the clothes make the man.
Through the Bears own ineptitude, they are held to a field goal on their first drive. On the advice of my buddy Chris, I am now openly calling for the Chargers to take cheap shots at Chris Chandler's head.
Sammy, temporary Chargers fan and full-time Steelers fan, is absolutely giddy about a Todd Heap touchdown reception because he's on the bench of his fantasy team. I am ashamed.
The Texans have busted out a new red jersey for this week. I've gotta admit, it's handsome.
I am being let down by my group of loud obnoxious Chargers fans. There's more talk about sandwiches and fantasy football than there is actual football. Of course, the Chargers have yet to provide any reason for anyone to say anything positive, but still, I'm hurt.
Tim Dwight hasn't had a successful kick return in a very long time. I see no reason for him to still be employed by the Chargers organization on Monday morning.
If it wasn't for LaDainian Tomlinson, I would have no reason to live.
The first of many commercials we'll be seeing that day for the Country Music Awards is being shown, where apparently Norah Jones and Dolly Parton and doing some kind of a performance together. What a tremendous combination, the rare pairing of someone with a tremendous amount of talent and someone with a freakish set of jublies. It's like the Miles Davis/Justin Timberlake collaboration we've all been waiting for.
The Chargers offense today is reminding me of the Ryan Leaf/Craig Whelihan era in San Diego, and I wish I was making that up. It involves a lot of runs, a lot of screens, and an occasional shot downfield that will probably end disastrously.
Chargers tackle Damian McIntosh should just go ahead and change his first name to "False Start" and save everyone a little time.
The Bears march down the field like the Germans through France. That touchdown drive could not have been easier. There is absolutely no phase of the game in which the Chargers are even adequate right now. I can't even fathom how bad this team would be without LaDainian Tomlinson.
My head is down, I'm not watching anything. My buddy Chris points out to me that the Ravens have male cheerleaders. I appreciate him pointing this out to me, and I'd love to poke fun at them, but I'm just not in the mood.
Alright, I'm sad and disgusted, but I'm not dead. I can't just let that slide. The Ravens have dude cheerleaders. I think it's outstanding. So many other players sleep with their team's cheerleaders, and I'm glad that the Ravens organization has taken steps to allow the majority of Ravens players to do the same thing. Shouldn't San Francisco have been the first team to come up with this innovation?
Chris and I have the following exchange:
Me: How bad is it for me to hope that one of the houses burning in San Diego belongs to Marty Schottenheimer?
Chris: It's pretty bad.
Me: With his wife and children in it?
Chris: (shakes head)
Me: Yeah. Sorry.
Drew Brees lofts up a deep ball, and as it's fluttering through the air, I yell, "incomplete." As it turns out, "incomplete" was a little too optimistic. An exclamation of "Interception" would have been more accurate. This is what happens when I try to see the glass as half-full.
The Chargers should immediately remove the "JB" patch from their jerseys. John Butler does not deserve this. There is absolutely no excuse for a team to be this bad in every phase of the game. None. This single game is more than enough justification for the firing of any head coach. This is the worst performance of professional football that I have ever seen one team display, and I sat through every fucking game of the Leaf, Whelihan, and Harbaugh eras in San Diego. I am not exaggerating. At least during the Leaf era, he was universally worthy of hate. I didn't have to feel bad for wishing bad things upon him, but I do when it's Drew Brees. I'm starting to miss the Leaf era.
To any Chargers fans who might happen to be reading, Mel Kiper Jr. has Roy Williams, WR of Texas, as clearly the #1 overall player available in the draft. Just thought I'd throw that out there.
Through all of this, the Chargers are only down 10-0 at the half, which is a solid testament to just how bad the Bears are.
Rick Mirer has entered the game for the Raiders, and I can't make fun. At the moment, Rick Mirer is not an object of ridicule, but an attractive alternative.
Updates are probably going to be sparse in the second half... I'm in no mood.
People are pointing out to me that it's only 10-0 and that there's still a chance to win. I don't care right now if we do win. I hope we don't. We don't deserve to win. This performance has been so thoroughly disgusting that stealing a cheap win would not make me feel better.
In the second half, I'm hoping for the Bears to just score quickly so we can have the ball. It's like when you're getting killed by the computer in Madden and you're just hoping for them to score quickly so you can get the ball back. You don't care how ugly the score gets, but being on offense is just less boring than being on defense. That's the stage I've reached.
Personal foul on the Chargers for a chop block, and why not... we might as well at least try to injure someone.
There might be other games on right now, I don't know. My eyes are transfixed on the carnage. If you're waiting for me to say something about your particular favorite team, here you go: I hope they lose by 50.
Yes, your team, too.
The computer-animated Nike commercial with Michael Vick and Terrell Owens playing for some fictitious team... I just don't get it. Vick drops back, and shakes off about 29 tackles, and T.O. has time to run about a 400 yard pattern. Vick eventually throws it, T.O. catches it, and then still has about 40 yards to go before getting to the endzone. They score, they're happy, and I don't feel like buying Nike products.
13-0 Bears. I may take up smoking.
The Raiders are down 17-3 to the Lions, and not even that is making me happy.
Little Dougie Flutie is warming up on the sidelines, just a few hours too late. I hope part of his pre-game ritual involves running over Drew Brees with a lawnmower.
The Bears are running the ball, picking up like 4 or 5 yards a clip. Come on, Doug is warming up, let's see what we can do. Just go deep, Bears, it'll be there, I promise.
Bears punt... Little Dougie has the Chargers moving. He might be the fastest man in the world over the age of 40.
This is surreal. The Chargers are moving the ball efficiently. A dramatic turnaround is underway...
Touchdown Chargers. We are down 6 points and have all the momentum.
Chris pops in a piece of gum, and the minty smell is making its way across the table. AJ has a disgusted look on his face and asks, "What's that smell?" "Mint. It's my gum," Chris tells him. "It's making me sick. I need to smell smoke," says AJ. I think that's a pretty clear sign that someone has a little bit of a nicotine problem.
Little Dougie has been in the game for about 2 minutes. Total yards for the Chargers B.D. (Before Dougie), 84. Total yards A.D., 74.
We're down six points with 3:20 to play, and on 4th and 5, elect to punt. I don't understand why. The punt, by the way, is returned by the Bears to about the Chargers original line of scrimmage. Tremendous game management, Bolts.
I notice some blood on the left pant leg of Drew Brees. I don't know how it got there, but I hope it hurt.
The Bears have a big furry Bear mascot now. The name on the back of his jersey is "Staley." I don't know why.
The Bolts game has officially ended. We didn't win, and I'd have felt a little guilty if we did. One, because of my behavior, and two, because we really wouldn't have deserved to. Incidentally, the Chargers are probably screwed at the QB position. I definitely don't get the feeling that the organization is ready to pull the plug on Drew Brees, and it looks like that needs to happen. Drew is a competitor, he works hard, and I think he has heart, but he just can't get it done. When he does make a good decision, he's just inaccurate. He's like... a poor man's Jay Fiedler. That's not good. This is not in reaction to one game, by the way, but this entire year. He's been terrible.
Alright, I can turn some attention to other games now. My heart's not in it, but what the hell else am I going to do? My girlfriend isn't here, and no one will go bowling with me.
Up 6 with about 2 minutes to go, Peyton Manning is set to embark on a game-ending drive for the Colts, but he's suddenly overcome by the spirit of Drew Brees, and gives the Dolphins a gift interception. Two plays later, however, Brian Griese is also visited by the ghost of Drew, drops back 12 yards, and coughs the ball up after being made to be Dwight Freeney's bitch. The Colts hang on to win.
John Carney hits a last minute field goal, and the Bucs lose at home to the Saints. Haha. Blow me, Warren Sapp.
The Dolphins lose and Crazy Fish Guy, who had somehow snuck in when I wasn't looking, walks out of the back room. He looks just as happy-go-lucky as he ever does. I, on the other hand, look live I've just been sold into an arranged marriage with Tonya Harding. Crazy Fish Guy takes losses much better than I do. I feel like I'm Luke, and he's Yoda. There is much he can teach me. Control, control, I must learn control.
Hey, Ray Lewis has a black breathe right strip. I hope he gives Quincy Carter a call.
The 4 o'clock games I can see are Philadelphia/Atlanta, Pittsburgh/Seattle, and Redskins/Cowboys.
The Redskins offensive line... well, they'd fit right in with the overall Chargers team philosophy of "be as terrible as your heart desires." Patrick Ramsey has to feel like the blonde kid that Ed Norton Jr. beats up in Fight Club. He just can't take much more of this.
Deion Sanders spoke in depth this week about his desire to be the next head coach of the Falcons. Apparently, Falcons players are intrigued by the idea and have gone down 10-0 to the Eagles to help facilitate the exit of Dan Reeves.
Every time Patrick Ramsey walks back to the sidelines, he looks at Steve Spurrier like, "Hey, asshead, do you think you could stop smirking for long enough to help me figure out how not to get paralyzed out there?"
The Jets and G-Men are nearing the end of overtime. The thought of both groups of fans leaving unhappy is something that appeals to me a great deal.
LaVar Arrington accidentally wipes out Bill Parcells on the sidelines. They cut to a shot of the Ramsey and Spurrier on the other sideline, and you can almost hear Ramsey thinking, "Why can't that happen on THIS sideline?"
Jerry Jones is down on the field, encouraging Larry Allen. Larry Allen is a man who's put in a career's worth of hard work and continues to play when his body is probably telling him that he shouldn't, and I'm sure that what he needs right now is a pep talk from a plastic-faced bazillionaire with the athletic inclination of Rosie O'Donnell on quaaludes.
Another commercial for the Country Music Awards invades my airspace, and I let out a big, "YEEEEEE-HA!" The Harley-Davidson crew sitting to my right doesn't look amused, but one of the guys has a canary yellow bandana tied around his neck, so I don't think there's any reason to be afraid.
Tim Rattay has the 49ers out to a 14-3 lead on the Rams, which is a bit shocking.
Tommy Maddox is absolutely statuesque in the pocket. It's not that he's completely immobile, he just... doesn't seem to want to move. Maybe he should stop having a big meal before each drive.
We get a few close-ups of Jerry Jones on the sidelines during the Cowboys game, and he licks his lips just like LL Cool J. It's almost like he's doing an impression. I hope he doesn't watch Any Given Sunday and sign LL to a multi-year deal in the offseason.
A Texans highlight is shown at halftime of one of the games, and they apparently won today with Tony Banks at quarterback. Tony Banks and Rick Mirer are now among the quarterbacks that had better days than Drew Brees. Ouch. Incidentally, I can't hear the name "Tony Banks" without thinking of Tony Yayo and Lloyd Banks of 50 Cent's crew, G-Unit. I have an image in my mind of Tony Banks spending his off-days rolling around in 50 Cent's H2 with all kinds of gold and ice on his person. That's just the way my mind works. I apologize.
Is it just me, or is there a certain amount of intrigue in the Cardinals/Bengals game this week? Exactly how did we get to this point? If someone told me before the year that I'd have the least bit of interest in this game, I don't think I'd have believed them. It would have been like telling me that I will someday be looking forward to seeing an action/adventure movie starring Freddie Prinze Jr. and Carrot Top.
And the Cowboys and Redskins wrap up the longest first half in NFL history. It's about 10 minutes after six when they go trotting into the locker rooms. Parcells must work hourly. There aren't many things as painful to watch as a sloppy ugly football game that also takes forever, and I speak from experience. At least the Chargers had the decency to fail miserably in a reasonable amount of time this week.
The Steelers/Seahawks game at 9-6 has every bit as much intrigue as the top-notch Pats/Browns game that I endured last week.
The 49ers are now laying wood to the Rams. How are the Rams so dominant last week on the road and so weak against a division rival this week? This loss just makes no sense.
Fred Smoot also has a black breathe right strip. I am now watching actively for a close-up of Quincy Carter.
Tommy Maddox throws a TD pass to Hines Ward, and thought it was getting called back for holding, and he went fucking berserk. I don't think I've seen anyone other than Bobby Knight get so agitated at a call. Seriously. He had to be physically restrained. For a minute there, it was like Ron Artest played for the Steelers.
I don't know if he's an official team mascot, or just a fan, but there's a guy at the Cardinals game in a big furry Cardinal costume, and in the Arizona heat, that just has to be torturous. I guess it's no worse than the naked barrel guy in Denver, but really... it's the Cardinals, man. Is it worth it?
Close-up of Quincy Carter... and the Breathe Right problem has been solved! Quincy's so dark that I can't tell if he's wearing a black strip or no strip at all, but either way, I'm happy. Major ups to the people at the Breathe Right company, and as promised, I will now put an end to my letter-writing campaign.
Some guy behind us is calling for the Steelers to throw a fade to Plaxico Burress in the endzone, because "he's 7 feet tall, how could he miss it?" His error was pointed out to him, and he says, "Okay, 6'10"."
The Steelers, like the Chargers, also come up short in their comeback bid, and this day has just not gone well. I feel like breaking something. Not out of destructive anger, just because I'd like to have something I can at least talk about the next day. I don't wish to discuss with anyone just how bad the Chargers are, but if I slice up my hand by putting it through someone's driver side window, I'll at least have a story to tell. This is how my mind works. I need therapy.
The Cardinals pull off an upset win over the Bengals. It's the first time anyone has pulled off an upset win over the Bengals since the 1980s.
