I'm that mountain peak up high
Hey I made it, mmmmmm
I'm the world's greatest
Hey I made it, mmmmmm
I'm the world's greatest
Ladies and Gentlemen, it is with a great deal of pride that I introduce you to your defending NFL champions, the Minnesota Vikings.
So what if they didn’t win the Super Bowl, make the playoffs, or even win more often than they lost? As you should know by now, the only ranking we here at KSK give a damn about is Comedic Output (C.O.) and Comedic Upside Means (C.U.M.). Based on last year’s stellar campaign the fans in the great white north are chomping at the bit for another run at comedic immortality. Obviously the residents of the Lake Minnetonka area will be returning to a state of high alert, with a Smoot Watch in full effect. Authorities are advising residents to avoid all things phallic until the dual storm front blows over.
In an effort to curb the entertainment value of his newly acquired money pit, owner Zygi Wilf quickly dispatched of Mike Tice, his team’s head coach and resident MENSA rejectee. While we can no longer bask in the radiance of Tice’s befuddled expressions or at his marvel clock management snafus, we must not panic. Remember dear reader, comedy has an intrinsic ability to seek out these Purple-clad Not Ready for Primetime Players. Last year, many humor pundits (no, not him) fretted over the loss of Randy Moss and his propensity to fulfill comedic desires . Despite the loss they were able to raise the bar to a level most people never imagined.
Sources around the league are altogether unsure of what they can expect to see from new coach Brad Childress (unfortunately he still refuses to don the coif that put his namesake on the map). Truth be told, I don’t know who the fuck he is and I thought I knew everything. In order to properly inform our readers we embarked on a fact finding mission to the childhood home of Coach Childress. If you really want to know about a grown man then you’ve gotta go talk to his mama.
KSK: Ms. Childress, it’s an honor to have a few moments of your time.
Ms. C: Oh please, I’m just so honored to be in the company of such brilliant and virile young men.
KSK: You flatter us Ms. C. So what can you tell us about Brad? You must be very proud.
Ms. C: I’m sorry? I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about.
KSK: Your son Brad of course, the new head coach of the Minnesota Vikings.
Ms. C: I don’t remember any son named Brad, and that’s the kind of thing I just might remember! You oughtta put down that reefer before you kill any more brain cells.
KSK: You are Ms. Childress of Aurora, Illinois are you not?
Ms C: I surely am but I think I’d remember some kid named Brad. In fact the only son I can remember was eaten by a walrus a number of years ago. Call me back if you want to talk about my bridge club.
Well there you have it, not even Brad’s mom could pick him out of a lineup. The poor guy was the least conspicuous offensive coordinator in all of football last year seeing as how Andy Reid called every play from scrimmage (except for the three times they ran the ball).
We recently provided Childress with a transcript of our conversation with his mother. Although he declined comment, he did declare, "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"
The Vikings roster is slightly more recognizable than the guy with the headset. Brad Johnson is expected to anchor the offense (seriously?) even though he’s making slightly less money than Ed Hochuli. Once again the running game will be compromised of a menagerie of hopefuls (like Chester Taylor) and glorified third down backs (like Mewelde Moore). I’m willing to wager that the team will be on it's hands and knees (Get away from me, Fred Smoot) begging Onterrio Smith to come back (according to reports he was last seen being fired from a Winnipeg area Chippendales establishment for concealing a foreign instrument).
Steve Hutchinson and Bryant McKinnie are both devastating blockers, although only the latter studied under Colonel Angus. Last year’s exploits gave fans a new reason to call him “Mount” yet some were off put by his questionable decision making, notably his decision to go downstairs on a dirty stripper (don’t worry B, strippers aren’t people).
The defense, although moderately improved, are still far from dominating anybody. By switching to a Cover 2 scheme the coaches are setting up Smoot to get burned like he was dating a Mexico. This team's pending season reminds me of the scene in Chasing Amy when Holden tries to get Banky and Fingercuffs in on a threesome (brought to you by Bad Idea Jeans). Just look at their first round draft pick Chad Greenway, dropping him into the middle of that locker room is like throwing a toddler into a ball pit, panic followed by hysterical crying. Can you imagine some rookie from South Dakota trying to converse with guys like Smoot and McKinnie? I can...
SmootSmack: Yo, I was hittin’ this chick last night that was dirtier than the Missisip! Hypnotic 'n Henny always gets me balls deep in trouble.
Mount: Goddamn son! You get into nastier ass than me, and I started the 7th Floor Crew.
Chad: Yeah, well last night Betty Sue and I double dated with AJ Hawk and Laura Quinn over at the Olive Garden. Just because we’re rivals doesn’t mean we can’t all be friends.
Mount: Shut the fuck up, Bitch!
It's scenarios like this that makes me wish HBO had taken Hard Knocks to the Vikings camp. Throw in the possibility of a Koren Robinson relapse and you can just about write them in for the Emmy.
This is going to be one hell of a great season...unless your name is Zygi.