I thought I had a shitty day. The Vikings have apparently adopted the Ravens' offensive philosophy of never scoring touchdowns. And my two fantasy teams each got a nine-minute, Monica Belucci-style ass-raping. Fuck.
And then I found out that Chris Simms got the gay tattoos knocked the fuck off of his body by the Carolina Panthers. Simms was rushed to a Tampa hospital to have his freaking spleen removed after Tampa's last-second loss. Simms even required blood transfusions. I was going to make a gay joke here about Simms swapping bodily fluids with another man, until I considered the fact that Simms likely played the entire fourth quarter of Sunday's game with a major organ inside his body cavity bleeding profusely. And that is pretty fucking badass.
But even more badass than that is the fact that Panthers' defense hit a man so hard and so often that he had to have his spleen removed. Usually a sentence like that is written as comedic hyperbole. But the Panthers, in this case, literally did it. Fucking sweet. That's why football beats all the other pussy sports. I think the Panthers should be allowed keep the spleen as a trophy, and that they should be allowed to roast and eat the spleen family-style, in a curry sauce with basmati rice and naan. Maybe some daal on the side.
I don't know about you, but I'm extremely concerned with the rash of NFL QB's who are losing vital organs. Big Ben had his appendix removed. Daunte Culpepper had his brain removed. And now Chris Simms loses his spleen. Holy shit. Get these men a flak jacket and a spare digestive lining. Otherwise, these games are going to end up like the money scene in "Hamburger Hill", where the dude's clothing is the only thing holding his innards in. War, what is it good for? Some pretty awesome violence, I'd say.
So I had a bad day. But at least it wasn't as bad as Chris Simms' day. Or his spleen's. And for that, I am grateful to both.