Tuesday Morning Pretentious Douchebaggery

And verily, the Football Gods wept. For as they surveyed the NFL landscape, they realized that not a single NFL team was coached or managed properly. For none of them had asked the brilliant TMQ for advice. And verily they asked, why? Why could there only be one Gregg Easterbrook, writer of highfalutin magazine articles no one reads and member of some dipshit think tank no one listens to, in this world? For clearly Gregg Easterbrook is the smartest man alive. Why would the Gods only allow one Gregg Easterbrook to exist when he's so clearly smarter than any coach, GM, rocket scientist, president, Nobel Laureate, or autistic savant?

Ye Gods.

Stat of the Week No. 1: Not counting games they lost, the Colts have won 257 games in a row.

Stat of the Week No. 2: 30 teams had more passing yards than rushing yards.

Stat of the Week No. 3: My IQ is 254.

Stat of the Week No. 4: My SAT score was 1560. And, if I took the test now, I'd get the full 2400. Face.

Stat of the Week No. 5: I have 7 graduate degrees.

Stat of the Week No. 6: I read 16.5 newspapers every day (TMQ only counts the International Herald Tribune as half a paper.).

Stat of the Week No. 7: This column is 90,000 words long because I can't help being so astonishingly smart.

Stat of the Week No. 8: My penis is 1.77 inches long.


I Masturbate in a Classier Way Than You Do: Our Cheerleader of the Week is Tiffany of the Redskins. She says her favorite show is Battlestar Galactica! A cheerleader who also likes sci-fi? TMQ is impressed. TMQ is engorged. Now TMQ is manipulating his penis using only his powerful brain waves. TMQ has now spread his incredibly intelligent seed all over his keyboard. Tiffany, we salute you!

Sweet'n'Sour Play Of The Week: Philip Rivers of the Chargers play faked a run, and then threw a pass for a touchdown. The play-fake was sweet. The fact that the defense was comprised mainly of men who did not graduate from their respective colleges, and therefore do not understand the nuances of the play fake as TMQ does, was sour.

80% Of This Column Was Written Using Autotext! DirecTV has a monopoly! There is "dark matter" in the universe! CEO's who fly private planes are fucking assholes! Coaches only make decisions that will make them look good! No one touched the running back on that run! He shouldn't get any credit! My son Spenser is very advanced and will ruin the curve for your unintelligent child!

Be One of Six Non-Family Member to Read My Book! Be sure to pick up a copy of my book, The Progress Paradox. It asks why people, despite having more money than ever, are unhappier than ever. And the reason is because anyone who is not tastefully named Gregg Easterbrook is a shallow, materialistic, narcissistic sack of shit. If you are a well-read person who thinks about the cosmos a lot, you're probably going to be more like me. And that will make you happy.

I Take Everything Literally! Once again, the New York Times was 0-16 picking the final scores to this week's games, bringing their overall record to 0-7,895. Of course, those predictions are made largely for fun, but TMQ prefers to think that editors at the Times were dead serious about them, so that TMQ can condescendingly mock their folly. Folly, I say!

This week's "The 4400" Complaint In this week's episode, Tommy can travel back in time. TMQ finds this absurd. There is no scientific proof that people can actually go back in time. TMQ is unimpressed. TMQ dislikes suspending disbelief because TMQ's beliefs are so powerful.

Why Are You Punting? Trailing 70-0, the Raiders launched a mincing fraidy-cat punt from their own 1. Of course, TMQ knew what would happen next. Touchdown. Now it's 77-0 with 10 seconds left, and TMQ wrote the words, "Game over" in his notebook. TMQ doesn't need to see what will happen next. TMQ plays chess and can visualize all the moves ahead. Don't act like you're not impressed.

'Tis Better to Have Rushed And Lost, Then Never to Have Rushed at All: The Bears led 7-0 with 14:59 left to go in the first quarter. Run out the clock from here and victory is the most likely outcome. Instead, it was pass, pass, pass, pass, run, pass, run, run, pass, pass, pass, run, pass, pass, run, run, run, halftime, pass, pass, run, run, run, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, pass, run, two minute warning, pass, pass. Wait, what happened?

I Actually Wrote This In A Football Column: Attend worship services of any faith or denomination. You have obligations to your Maker and your fellow men and women; it's best not to lose sight of that. (You fucking shallow heathens.)

I'm So Classy, I Say Cognomen Instead of Nicknames: Reader Frank Johnson of Greenwich, CT, writes, "TMQ, you are so smart. I wish I could be smart like you. But I'm not. I want to hang myself. Anyway, in an attempt to sound as erudite as you, I propose nicknaming the Denver Broncos the Denver Kimchiwannawannnadingdongs, which is ancient Mandarin for 'horses that run'. I'd also like you to use this nickname at all times so that readers won't know what team you're talking about." Mr. Data, make it so!

Coaches Who Do Not Read TMQ Will Suffer: Kick Early, Go For It Late! But fortune favors the bold! Stop me before I blitz again! Play straight defense and you will win! But maybe teams should never punt! TMQ writes about paradoxes but fails to identify his own!

I Actually Also Wrote This In A Football Column: First, it's long been clear that (Bill) Parcells is an egomaniac in both the casual and, perhaps, clinical senses of that word. Lately he's gone downhill to simply becoming a nasty person, spitting and snarling at everyone around him. What's Parcells going to do next, demand worship? When I look at Parcells, the phrase that comes to mind is "failed human being." (A failed human being who has won two championships and will be enshrined in the Hall of Fame one day. But has he ever discussed free trade agreements? TMQ does not like equating succeeding with success.)

Wacky Food Of The Week: Last week, TMQ ate at Citronelle, a four-star restaurant in DC that commoners like yourself wouldn't be allowed in. But, since I'd like to identify with you, I want to tell you about the wacky things on the menu! Like the venison with truffle ragout! Doesn't that sound crazy?! It sure does to TMQ, though TMQ knows damn well that venison and truffles are an inspired pairing. Your haute cuisine frightens and confuses me, Mr. Chef man. But not really.

Oh Ye Mortals, Trifle Not With The (Clearly Christian) Football Gods: Pittsburg of Kansas ran up the score again! TMQ is fucking pissed! Football is for learning! The coach of Pittsburg is clearly a point-grubbing Jew.

Reader Animadstracionation: Want to impress TMQ by writing a haiku or passing on some obscure factoid you read about in The New Republic? Write to TMQ, and if you possess one-eighth of my intellect, I may deign to indulge you. Soon, you too will come to enjoy football while finding it totally beneath you.