To make further inroads into the burgeoning Spanish-language market (as well as to nominally celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month) you may have noticed that the NFL and NBC made a few minor tweaks to Sunday night's Bears-Cowboys ass-kicking.
The graphics would occasionally refer to the Cowboys as the "Vaqueros" and the Bears as the "Osos" and Terrell Owens as "pendejo." The halftime entertainment may or may not have featured 90's retread Gloria Estefan and AAA-radio (yaaaaawn) favorite Ozomatli. I wouldn't know because I was watching Family Guy's Star Wars tribute by that point. In any event, none of these changes seemed particularly troublesome or even noteworthy for that matter.
But then there's this guy...
"I DON'T KNOW IF WE OWN ANYTHING IN THIS COUNTRY ANYMORE!"
I'm not sure who the "we" that T.J. Douchemanzadeh here is referring to-- but at the very least, "they" still own that redneck sleeveless t-shirt and no one will ever take that away.
Look, life can vexing at times. Your car breaks down at the most inopportune of times. Your boss is whipping your ass for no reason. Your favorite porn star suddenly OD's. But the key to living to see next Sunday's games is taking it all in stride. Hopefully this guy will realize that before he gives himself an apoplexy.
Actually, I do have one small complaint about NBC's coverage: the WWF long ago conditioned me to believe that once the Spanish-language broadcast team is acknowledged on-screen, someone will soon be thrown through their table, sending TV monitors flying while babbling announcers scramble for their lives. Think about it. Wouldn't the best way to finish off Rex Grossman's career as a starter have been to let Brian Urlacher snap and deliver the flying elbow while Raul Allegre screams "DIOS MIO!!! EL JEFE MUY LOCO! DONDE ESTA MI TEQUILA???"