Jerry Porter: Counterpoint

Jerry Porter is being jeered for something we’ve all done: laughing at Aaron Brooks. He was caught, it was reported and Porter really has nowhere to hide from that. I think that we here at KSK can totally endorse being loathsome, selfish pricks, but to do that without having that certain panache, that “Je ne sais crois,” well, that’s just bullshit. And to disrespect a teammate during a game, when your team is still in the middle of receiving a beatdown, is really beyond reprieve. The question here is not whether to stick the goalpost up Porter’s ass, but which end?

But let’s take off our Holier-Than-Thou helmets for just a minute and take a real look at this: Why should Porter be the only one that WASN’T laughing at Aaron Brooks last Monday night/Tuesday morning? More sacks than completions? How is that even possible? Why would Porter only be laughing at Brooks. Brooks was shitty, yes, but we can't give him all the credit.

I would be laughing at Raiders coach Art Shell. I’m looking forward to Shell getting the Billy Martin treatment from Al Davis, provided Davis remains alive long enough to fire and rehire Shell over the next few years. The only reason that I can tell Art Shell apart from Grimace is that one of them is purple. If G-Dawg ever breaks away from Ronald McDonald and joins N.W.A., I’m fucked.

I would be laughing at Tom Walsh, the Raiders offensive coordinator. This season marks Walsh’s first in the NFL since 1999, which probably explains why Jeff George’s number was still on speed-dial. Never mind that calling that Raiders offense “coordinated” would suggest organization, strategy, and a general expectation of non-suck-iness. That was nowhere to be found. In this pass-happy age of the NFL, it’s tough to make Marty Schottenheimer look like a genius. Walsh had no answer for that awesome, awesome San Diego defense. Unless you count, “Golly, we’re really up shit creek.” over the headset as an answer.

I would be laughing at Lamont Jordan, who either can’t pick up the blitz worth a shit, or chooses not to do so. That asshole holds a block with the intensity of Terry Schiavo staring at a balloon. Better get used to pass pro, Lamar, because at the rate your team is going, you’ll be playing from behind too often to get enough carries to be worth a shit on my fantasy team. Dick. Oh, and I’d say the offensive line looks equally deficient. Robert Gallery has already been moved to left tackle. Can he play left guard, too? He already is? Oh.

You might see where I’m going here. Jerry Porter is not the problem. Jerry Porter is the symptom of the problem. It takes most coaches three or four years to be tuned out by their players. Art Shell, psychological mastermind, has already achieved this, well before the first bye week of his return. Randy Moss has said it: the team is not ready to play for Shell. While we white folk can beat on our chests and yell fun military maxims from the 1950s as still-Coach Shell tries to “clean house,” what matters is that your team not look like a monkey fucking…you know, a football.

They looked like the entire primate house from the San Diego Zoo in a football-fucking orgy.

I’ll say it right now: no way this team wins a game this year. After next week, when Baltimore has finished giving them a good curb-stomping, this asshole figures that, at best, they have only three realistic chances to pop that cherry in their win column:

Week 4- Cleveland at home, coming off their bye week.
Week 5- “at” San Francisco.
Week 13- Home against Houston.

How could you not laugh? One week out of the gate, and your high-water mark is 3-13. Yeah, that’s a great feeling. After a long training camp, preseason, and getting ready for 17 weeks of hell, and then they take the field, on national television, and then take a big, firm shit in the dirt. But I guess you’re already in the dirt when you play your home games in a baseball stadium. On the bright side, wow, look at all that room in foul territory!