Stop, Hey, What's That Sound Everybody Look What's Going Down

As most of you know, the only reason I give a shit about the Dallas Cowboys is because of their heated rivalry with my Redskins (more on this later). In fact, I traded for the rights to this preview with my buddy Christmas Ape (unlike Paul Farhi we get along with our colleagues). In exchange I gave up the rights to the Bills and a burrito to be named later. Without further delay, it’s time for you to Better Know a Football Team!

But he grew old

This knight so bold
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Once again Jerry Jones has spent the off-season dropping some cash on a facelift for his beloved Cowgirls (he had plenty left over for his own surgical maintenance). Of course the only addition that anybody out there cares about involves some guy named Terrell Eldorado Owens (Eldorado? Really? Apparently Alabama truly is the gayest part of America). Unfortunately for Coach Bill Parcells (and ESPN executives), we haven’t gotten a decent opportunity to watch TO wear the famed star that he has made a career out of defiling Although Coach Lumpy won’t come right out and say so, it has become apparent that he’s getting sick and tired of dealing with the asshole on the bike. It really is a shame the team decided to part with Keyshawn Johnson (aka the inspiration for Excedrin), otherwise we could be looking at the most dysfunctional set of receivers outside of Tallahassee.

While TO works tirelessly to improve his cycling technique, Terry Glenn continues to excel under the radar. Apparently this already led to a bout of jealousy with the notoriously vulnerable prima donna. Although KSK was unable to attain an interview with Mr. Owens (Jason Rosenhaus kept trying to answer the questions) we were able to submit a single question in writing; we decided to inquire as to his perception of Terry. Shortly thereafter TO shot us the following response via email. “She was cool when I met her but I think I like her better dead.” Harsh words from TO. Harsh, plagiarized words. I’m willing to bet these two wind up in a slap fight by the time they’re mathematically eliminated from playoff contention (Week 14).

Once again Drew “The Statue” Bledsoe will return under center to guide the capable offensive attack. I fully expect the veteran to take a vicious hit at some point this season, or maybe he'll just get crapped on by a pigeon. Just remember Drew, these Redskins have a knack of knocking the living shit out of aging quarterbacks. If you are looking for a way out I would suggest you not take the Troy Aikman route...

As is usually the case, the offense's success will hinge on the competence of its linemen. Expect to see some new, younger, guts in the huddle this year. The offseason brought the release of Larry Allen, a stalwart of the franchise for the past 12 years. Although he's the reigning title holder of the NFL Strongest Man competition (Holley Mangold can't catch a break!) the poor guy hasn't been able to walk without a limp for three years. Now all that's left is a ramshackle group of over-the-hill veterans and overachieving youngsters. Luckily they are blessed to have Parcells as a coach, his motivational techniques are the stuff of legend. Recently we happened to overhear a speech he delivered to the struggling group at practice.

That watch costs more than your car. I made $4,275,000 last year. How much you make? You see pal, that's who I am, and you're nothing. Nice guy? I don't give a shit. Good father? Fuck you! Go home and play with your kids. You wanna work here - close! You think this is abuse? You think this is abuse, you cocksucker? You can't take this, how can you take the abuse you get on a blitz? You don't like it, leave.

The man's got a way with words.

Turning our attention to the defense you can't help but notice a rather impressive youth movement. DeMarcus Ware and Marcus Spears will be joined this year by Bobby Carpenter the other OSU linebacker (however, he is not married to Ron Powlus's sister as claimed in the past). The problems will likely come from the secondary; while Roy Williams is great against the run he has a bad habit of getting torched downfield with his jogging-mate Terrance Newman. Don't forget, that's how the Redskins were able to sweep the Cowboys last year for the first time in...well, it had been a long ass time. So to all you Cowboy fans who are thinking about starting up the shit again this year, I leave you with this.

What Team Would You Rather Better Know Than THIS ONE, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!

As flubby mentioned in a previous installment of Better Know a Team, it has been a while since the Music City Miracle. The Bills, the team that got miracl'd, choose to refer the incident as The Music City Extremely Poor and Inopportune Kickoff Coverage and haven't been back to the playoffs since.

Some things you may not know about the Bills:

• Most people know the team is named for Buffalo Bill Cody, who was not from and likely never visited Buffalo. Tom Benson will use this as his reasoning when he moves the Saints to Los Angeles and changes their name to the Genghis Khans. Or just Los Locos.
  
  The team's most famous fan is occasional journalist and all-the-time fat-faced ruddyman, Tim Russert, whose son also inherited the family meathead, both literally and figuratively.
  

• The Bills have the ugliest uniforms in the NFL. It's science. Perhaps they gazed lovingly at the duds of the CFL teams to the north or they saw the success that met the Patriots and the Broncos soon after they donned their new ugly suits. I'm not sure. Is it too late to name the team after Joseph Merrick?
• Even Mel Kiper laughed at them for taking Donte Whitner with the 8th pick in this year's draft, when he could have easily been had at least 20 to 30 picks later. Turn that one over in your heads for a while, Bills fans. Mah-el Ky-poor June-yor larffed aught 'chu. But not Isiah Thomas, surprisingly.
• Scott Norwood now resides in Northern Virginia, where he makes a living as realtor, mostly selling ranch homes that lean just a little to the right. Third prize is you're fired, Norwood. PUT THAT COFFEE DOWN NORWOOD! Coffee is for kickers!

Bills, I'm not the first to tell you that you're proper fucked. Your coach is Dick Jauron. Your quarterback battle is being waged between J.P. Losman and Kelly Holcomb, a contest otherwise know as the conflation Loscomb. Where's Sharp Stick in the Eye? Cap causalty? I even heard the team brought in Primo Levi to be your general manger. Can't be a good sign.

Note: This post was written by Christmas Ape.

Better Know a Football Team: the Baltimore Ravens

H.L. Mencken, the greatest Baltimorean not named Johnny Unitas, once said that Sunday was “a day given over by Americans to wishing that they themselves were dead and in Heaven, and that their neighbors were dead and in Hell.” Mencken made this statement prior to the invention of the Sunday Ticket, so we are pretty sure he would feel differently today.

Still basking in the waning glory of their 2000 Super Bowl title, Ravens fans will not spend their Sundays this fall wishing they were dead. They will leave that to those wide-eyed cousin-fuckers in Cleveland, whom Baltimore mercilessly fleeced years ago. However, this will not be a season to remember in Baltimore.
Four things you might not know:

1. Steve McNair’s favorite television programs are “The Price is Right” and “Matlock.” So in addition to playing like an old man, he watches TV like one too.

2. The Ravens are named in honor of Baltimore native Edgar Allan Poe. Poe is credited with inventing detective fiction. In “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” Auguste Dupin correctly deduces the murders were committed by an escaped orangutan. In real life, the orangutan was framed by Ray Lewis.

3. John Unitas’ legacy belongs to the city of Baltimore, not the dipshit Irsay family. Last year, Unitas’ family went to court successfully blocking the state of Indiana from raising money for their new, shitty dome by issuing Colts’ license plates bearing Unitas’ number.

4. Avon Barksdale is about to flex nuts now that Hamsterdam is shut down.

There are a fuck-ton of holes in the wheezing apparatus that is the Baltimore Ravens. Unfortunately, they elected to fill but one in the off-season— the quarterback. While even the necrotic corpse of Air McNair is an improvement over Kyle Boller, only a fool would expect a full season from the old dude. Look, McNair got the shit kicked out of him when he played for good teams. What does he look forward to in Baltimore? Crab cakes, that’s about it.

How many games are you going to get out McNair, Raven fans? How many games until the wheels come off the old bastard? Six? Maybe ten? Twelve? (yeah, you wish). Make no mistake; we are big Air McNair fans. We just hope the old fella doesn’t crap himself the next time he gets bounced off the turf.

Ed Reed has long since eclipsed Ray Lewis as the best player on the Ravens’ defense, but that doesn’t make him the team badass. That title still belongs to Ray. Anybody can motivate ten other guys to make a big stop on third down. But how many linebackers can get their boys to butcher some playa haters like they were a couple of hogs?
After the Bloodbath at the Cobalt Lounge, Ray Lewis has worked diligently to rehabilitate his image. As the above graphic suggests, these efforts are beginning to pay off. Even the stigma of directing your goons to hack up two dirtbags washes away in the redemptive glow of rubber ducky races. Keep rooting for that vicious sociopath, Baltimore. Nevermore, bitches.

Madden VG Legal To Drive, But Cannot Buy Cigarettes Or Alcohol: A Somewhat Tangent-Laden Retrospective

My first copy of Madden was the 1995 edition for the Sega Genesis. Remember the Sega Genesis, Grandpa? I was in the dorms at Eastern Michigan, hours from home, didn't know anybody. It was the only game I could play with the other guys on the floor, even though they were more of a Tecmo Bowl and Bill Walsh College Football crowd. I always wanted to play Madden. This was the first time you could see the numbers on the players' jerseys, but only when they were parallel with the goal line. Outside linebackers often ran away from the quarterback, and the sound effects were so bad, they were mocked by 386 PCs and even some TANDY models. But, between not going to class and trying to get laid, the game was a nice reprieve, and probably my only chance at breaking the ice with the black kids on my floor (that's just how it is).

I didn't buy another version for three years, when I picked up Madden 98 for the PlayStation, back when it was THE PlayStation, and the centerpiece of the Family Basement. The Maddenisms were fresh and actually enjoyable. Pictures of the players appeared with the descriptions of the plays.

J. BLAKE PASS INTERCEPTED.
R. WOODSON INTERCEPTION RETURNED 98 YARDS.
TOUCHDOWN STEELERS.

Glorious.

I would play my little brother, who was a total Reset Button Bitch, and would absolutely destroy him regularly, to the point where I had to guard the Reset button every time I scored, but then he would start walking away or, worse, crying like some Little League right fielder (He would eventually enlist in the Army and knock up some girl. Where's your Reset button now, little brother?).

The next millenium, and newer game consoles, would bring even more sweetness to Madden. I was stuck in Real Life for awhile and wouldn't pick up another copy until late 2003, when I got Madden 03 for the PC (yes, nearly a year behind, but it was only 5 bucks), and then the same copy for PS-Uno. I would eventually own or play every subsequent version of Madden from there.

I've hosted and played in tournaments, had Madden parties. We've discussed Madden at work, contemplated the overpricing of the game, compared it to NFL 2k5 (which I contend is superior to M-05 in every significant way) and even played out entire seasons using redrafted rosters. Madden has often been the bridge to friendships and conversations I may not have enjoyed otherwise.

Which is why I get just a little pissed off when people point to the game as an example of the demise of society. Jeff MacGregor was critical of the game in his SI piece last week. A quote:

Without real-world consequences, video games make us no smarter emotionally, and intellect unleavened by empathy is the empty triumph of the technocrat.

And now the English version:

Take the violence out of football, erase the pain given and taken, reduce the grunt and the struggle to the push of a button, eliminate the magnificent inconsistencies of the human heart and its capacity for courage or cowardice, and the game, the war, is no more than a fast-twitch exercise -- a battle fought without personal cost. It is cause without effect, a victory only for technology and opposable thumbs.

So it was the best of chode, the worst of chode? Erase the pain and struggle? Jeff, have you never tried to pin a punt inside your opponent's 5-yard line? Never dodged those little softballs that come after you in the Precision Passing camp drill? Never had to play a whole season with Kenny Watson as your starting tailback? Tried to use that motherfucking passing cone? That, my man, is the essesnce of pain.

What bullshit that is. Everything is push-button these days. This is 2006. Do you wash your clothes in a wooden tub, over one of those boards you see in bluegrass shows? Hell no, you don't. Once technology advances, the skills that that technology replaced are obsolete. You wash your car by hand? Great, I guess, if you have the time. So you can throw a perfect spiral with a real football? Fuck you, go home and play with your kids.

My one gripe about it all may be that Electronic Arts, the caretaker of this noble institution, insists on ass-raping us every year with what amounts to a fifty-dollar roster update. For those of us stuck with our now-obsolete PS2s and XBOXs (XBOXes?), we may not see another significant game improvement for our systems. The XBOX 360 version looks awesome, and after having played the demo in Meijer, functions same. Is $50 too much to pay to finance and partake in this fraternity? It may seem so in terms of up-front cost, but in the greater scheme of things, at least for me, probably not. I have a real job now, I can afford it.

It's not football, but it's close enough. Besides, how else are we going to get close to that real football experience? By going outside?

Better Know a Team: San Diego Chargers

Five Fast Facts about the Chargers:

-After the regular season, all Charger cheerleaders go back to their homes ON WHORE ISLAND.
-Linebacker Shawne Merriman majored in home protection at the University of Maryland for coach Ralph Friedgen, who is best known for playing the role of Clown in the movie Spawn.
-Former Charger running back Natrone Means can eat two egg salad sandwiches in a single bite.
-Former Chargers backup QB Cleo Lemon was named after Cleo, Riff Raff's main squeeze. Cleo later dumped Riff Raff for Heathcliff, leaving Riff Raff to spend his remaining days in the junkyard smoking bathtub meth with Hector, Wordsworth, and Mungo.
-It's 75 degrees and sunny every day in San Diego, and the women there make South Beach look like a fucking Greyhound station. Charger fans, your team could perish in a bus crash and I doubt it would ruin your day.

10 Yards of Awkwardness with: Luis Castillo

As part of our 2006 preview, I'll be sitting down and "chatting" with a player from each team. For the Chargers, it's starting 3-4 defensive end and admitted former steroid user Luis Castillo.


Big Daddy Drew: Luis, thanks for taking the time to sit down with us.
Luis Castillo: No problem.

Drew: I loved you in Out of Sight. "You are mean!" I love that. Oh, and you were great in Traffic, too. How did you earn the trust of an acclaimed director like Steven Soderbergh?
Castillo: That's Luis Guzman.

Drew: No need to be modest. The Chargers jettisoned starting QB Drew Brees in the offseason. Tell me, why keep LaDainian Tomlinson around? Isn't he really just dead weight?
Castillo: LT is great.

Drew: Marty Schottenhimer has often been criticized for his coaching in the fourth quarter. But shouldn't he get more credit for being a shitty coach the first three quarters of a game?
Castillo: No.

Drew: The Chargers used their first round draft choice on Antonio Cromartie, who only started one game at Florida State. Why not draft his backup? I bet he'd be even fresher!
Castillo: Antonio is a fine player.

Drew: AJ Smith helped bring Doug Flutie back to the NFL. Do you think Smith was bothered at all by Drew Brees' surplus of height?
Castillo: No.

Drew: Was Brees a bad drop kicker? Because QB's that can't drop kick are useless fuckers.
Castillo: I don't know.

Drew: Are you sort of glad that Brees isn't around anymore, so you don't have to spend team meetings staring at Brees' birthmark while pretending that you aren't?
Castillo: No.

Drew: As a Mexican, do you find it ironic that your job is essentially border control?
Castillo: I'm not Mexican.

Drew: I see this is a touchy issue for you. Let's move on. AJ Feeley: do you really need him?
Castillo: Yes.

Drew: You did steroids to help heal an "elbow" injury faster. How much can your "elbow" squat now? 700? 800?
Castillo: It really was an elbow injury.

Drew: I'll bet. How much of an improvement is AJ Smith over Bobby Beathard? Is it sort like moving from a hovel to a shantytown?
Castillo: AJ is a good GM.

Drew: Everyone agrees the old Charger powder-blue unis are Badass. But the Chargers refuse to go back to them. What the fuck is wrong with you people?
Castillo: I don't know.

Drew: I saw coach Schottenheimer on TV when he was an ESPN analyst. What's it like to play for a cadaver?
Castillo: Coach is not dead.

Drew: The Chargers backup guard is named Cory Lekkerkerker. Are black guys on the team uncomfortable playing with someone who has so many k's in their name?
Castillo: No.

Drew: Quentin Jammer: any relation to Cal Jammer?
Castillo: No.

Drew: Because Cal was tremendous in "Foreskin Gump". He'll be missed.
Castillo: No.

Drew: Will you kiss me?
Castillo: No.

Drew: Would you consider touching my meast? It won't bite.
Castillo: No.

Drew: We could share a Meast Lover's Pizza.
Castillo: No.

Drew: Luis, thanks for taking time off from doing dead lifts with your "elbow" to come talk to us.
Castillo: My pleasure.

Why Can't They Just Die in Tragic Accidents?

NFL greats have it easy. Once they hang up the cleats, if they can remotely demonstrate the ability to look at a camera and speak, they can become commentators (Michael Irvin, Jerome Bettis, etc.). They can run for office (Steve Largent, Lynn Swann). They can appear embarrassingly out of shape in FedEx ads (Joe Montana). They can bask in the glow of forever being a hometown hero and own a bunch of local car dealerships (John Elway). All they have to do is have a couple ounces of sense and an agent who isn't Drew Rosenhaus, and they're set for life.

Unfortunately, a new wave of NFL greats seems determined to hold on too tightly. Nevermind Emmitt Smith's embarrassing final days as an Arizona Cardinal; what's truly unforgivable is his upcoming turn on the newest season of "Dancing with the Washed-Up Losers." Marshall Faulk/Priest Holmes is holding on to dreams of returning to the Rams/Chiefs, even as the Rams/Chiefs move on with Steven Jackson/Larry Johnson. And don't even get us started on Brett Favre.

But there is a king of all jackasses who won't let go. Saturday, from ESPN:

The San Francisco 49ers announced Saturday that [Jerry] Rice, the NFL's all-time leading receiver, will sign a contract with the club Thursday and retire for good in November as a member of the team with which he spent his first 16 seasons. The 49ers said in a statement that Rice officially will retire Nov. 19... San Francisco will honor Rice during a halftime ceremony with a video montage, and the future Hall of Famer subsequently will give a speech.

No. Fuck that. You get one retirement, okay? That goes for everybody -- I'm looking at you, Junior "Maybe my agent should call other teams before I retire" Seau. If you wanted to retire with the 49ers, then you should have re-structured your contract to play for less money in San Francisco in 2000 instead of signing with the team's cross-bay rival. And you sure as hell shouldn't have signed with the Seahawks, where your washed-up ass wore Steve Largent's retired #80. And yeah, that goes for your training camp dalliance with the Broncos, too. And while you're at it, you can go to hell for opening the "Dancing with the Stars" door for Emmitt Smith's gigantic forehead.

Jerry Rice won three Super Bowls, winning an MVP award in one of them. He went to thirteen Pro Bowls. He is the greatest to ever play his position, and he will undoubtedly be the most prominent figure in his Canton class when he becomes a first-ballot Hall of Famer. Once that happens, the 49ers will have a nice ceremony for him to retire his number. So it's not like he doesn't have things to look forward to.

Is it really so cold out of the spotlight, Jerry? Is your pride worth an extra round of applause?

Let. Go. Let the fuck go. Letgoletgoletgoletgo.

Weekend Round-Up: Will the Regular Season Never Start?

Week Two of the preseason: 30% less crappy than Week One! (Links go to ESPN.com recap.)

Friday
Bengals 44, Bills 31: Chad Johnson scored a touchdown! Yes! What did he do? "I asked the ref if I could celebrate. I offered to pay his fine. He said, 'No.'" HORSE SHIT. I don't want to live in a world where Chad Johnson asks permission to celebrate touchdowns.

Browns 20, Lions 16: Kellen Winslow, after looking sharp while playing the first half: "I'm not nervous. I'm not pressing and I'm out there having fun... Oh yeah. I'm looking to dominate." He then lost his right leg when he was attacked by a mountain lion.

Bears 24, Chargers 3: Another game where the Bears do more than two-thirds of their scoring with defense and special teams, which raises the question: If I made a headline for this that said Bear Shits in Woods, would you think that it was in reference to the unsurprising ways in which Chicago scored, or would you think that Kyle Orton drank a handle of Jim Beam with Natty Light chasers and passed out in the forest behind his house?

Orton doesn't like getting caught in the rain......but he will drink the shit out of some pina coladas
Saturday
Dolphins 13, Bucs 10: Daunte Culpepper looked healthy, sharp (7/9, 86 yards), and ready for lap dances. Anchors aweigh! To the champagne room!

Panthers 17, Jaguars 10: At last, the answer to an argument I had in first grade: Panthers can totally beat up Jaguars. Now if only we could re-name some other team the Ligers...

Packers 38, Falcons 10: The headline on ESPN: "Favre, Packers' offense not half bad in rout of Falcons." Not half bad. Man, even AP journalists are getting in on the snark. Favre: 2 TD passes on long scoring drives, plus zero INT's for the second straight game. Note to fantasy football players looking for a dark horse: Brett Favre is merely toying with you.

Texans 27, Rams 20: Last week: Mario Williams looked unimpressive, Reggie Bush electric -- Man, the Texans are idiots! This week: Mario Williams creates pressure, batting down a pass and getting a tackle for a loss -- See? The Texans aren't so dumb! Yep, only twenty more weeks of this.

Patriots 30, Cardinals 3: Matt Leinart looked especially sharp in his NFL debut, taking home two BU co-eds after the game for his first pro threesome.

Broncos 35, Titans 10: The Denver running game churns ever forward, like the Nothing or Unicron -- an unstoppable juggernaut the entire movie/season that inevitably falters in the third act. Vince Young scored on a 13-yard run in the 4th quarter, for any fans that happen to be registered voters of ClayNation.

Vikings 17, Steelers 10: Big Ben started and threw a TD pass despite his thumb being injured for like the 17th time in his two-plus years in the league. Helmetless Super Bowl Yinzer Bettis Detroit joke hahahahaha. /slams head against desk

Jets 27, Redskins 14: Wait, the Jets won? Seriously? Did Washingon only put nine men on the field?

Sunday
Seahawks 30, Colts 17: 'Hawks third-string QB hopeful Gibran Hamdan looked solid during his playing time in the last five minutes of the fourth quarter, don't you think? What? You mean you weren't watching?!?

Raiders 23, 49ers 7: Believe me, I'm just as shocked as you are that this wasn't the televised Sunday night game. Watch out, people! The Raiders are 3-0 in the preseason. You know what that means: the guys fighting for roster spots on the third string are TERRIFIED of being unemployed in Oakland.

Make 'Em Say UNGGGH! Na-nah na-nah

Nikky Williams is about as well-rounded as a Falcons cheerleader can get, and I’m not just talking about her tits. Nikky came to the Falcons last year after a foray into the modeling world, although she had previous cheer experience with the Georgia Force of the Arena League. You may also have seen her plastered on your plasma; she appeared on American Idol as a first season finalist. If you didn’t know her by now you should probably get ready, the lovely Nikky has been cast as a cheerleader (ah to be typecast) in the upcoming film We Are Marshall. Given her wide range of talent I felt it absolutely necessary to offer you a full visual array of her work. E njoy, you perverted bastards.

Here's her online bio.

Better Know a Football Team: The Tennessee Tuxedos

This is the latest in KSK's continuing preview of all 31 NFL clubs (plus the Texans).

So far, Randy Moss is pissed because he wasn't on the field in an exhibition game when he wanted to be. Clinton Portis is pissed because he was on the field when he didn't want to be. No one knows what the hell TO wants to do. Without getting all Rumsfeld, there are many "unknowns" regarding the approaching NFL season. However, this is one "known": the Titans are definitely going to be shitty again. Nonetheless, here we go...

Four things you might not know about the Tennessee Titans:

1. Former WR Ernest Givens set franchise career records for receptions (542) and receiving yards (7935).

2. Defensive tackle Randy Starks returned to practice this week after his August 8th arrest on domestic violence charges. Randy can hit hard. Just ask Junior Winslow.

3. Titans coach Jeff Fisher is considering adding T-Rac as an extra pass-rusher on third and long.

4. Earl Campbell eats wise-ass punks like you for breakfast.

The Titans really know how to treat the face of the franchise's Tennessee era. Former MVP Steve McNair received treatment usually reserved for slumpbusters who have overstayed their welcome on Sunday morning (and it's like ten goddam minutes to kickoff!!!!). Air McNair was banned from working out at team facilities and was subsequently traded to the Ravens for a stack of Ozzie Newsome's old nudie-mags and a fifth of Pepe Lopez.

Dennis Miller might say new QB Vince Young is the most heralded Titan rookie since Prometheus. But he's a dickhead and we don't say stuff like that here at KSK. Look for VY to replace Billy Volek by the time the Titans hit 2-5, if not sooner. The Titans should go ahead and give Young the reins now.

Chris Brown has bitched and moaned about wanting a trade or extension. He will get nothing and like it. Brown, who played like dogshit last year after a promising 2004 season, simply doesn't have the stroke to call the shots. Furthermore, the Titans can't trade Brown when their other options are LenDale the Expectorator and Travis Henry, who last looked good three seasons, one ankle surgery and a drug suspension ago.

All-around badass, Adam "Pacman" Jones returns as the cornerstone of a young up-and-coming defense. Don't let the nerdy nickname fool you, this Pacman gets chased by cops, not ghosts. After vowing to turn over a new leaf this season, Pacman was flagged for taunting Reggie Bush Saturday night. But for all his faults, Jones is fast and, on occasions, can hit hard. Just ask Junior Winslow.

Barring breakout rookie years from both Young and LenDale White, 6-10 looks like the absolute limit for the Titans. Buck up Nash-Vegas faithful, it's been a while since the Music City Miracle, but you have a young team with a bright future. This certainly ain't the year—but at least you will be good by the end of the decade; unlike those miserable bastards the Browns.

Your 2006 NFL Drinking and Drugging Season Preview

A quick drinking story: Last weekend I attended a wedding. I love weddings for two reasons: 1) Open bar and 2) Cake. I have a standard go-to wedding drink, and that would be a vodka-and-grapefruit (nee Greyhound, nee Salty Dog, nee Gay Sipper). It's light, refreshing, and I can drink 500 of them while remaining upright. My friend Jeremy keeps telling me that sweet drinks will cause God to drop the brutal Hammer of Vengeance upon ye, but I always forget that by the time the next wedding rolls around.

As was the case here. This was my first night out without my six-month-old, so I got fucking destroyed. I ended up stealing cake from the place settings of people who were on the dance floor, offering $10 to anyone who would run through the sprinkler system at the country club, and telling a pregnant woman that, when my wife gave birth, it looked like doctors were trying to pull out her soul. Awesome stuff.

I also ended up waking up at 5AM to boot in my toilet for 10 minutes. If you know me, you know that my vomiting abilities are nonpareil. It sounds like someone trying to bail out a sinking boat. It woke up my wife. It woke up the houseguests that were sleeping two rooms over. I'm a Dad, you know. I probably shouldn't be doing shit like this anymore. I remember hugging the bowl and thinking to myself, "You know, this really takes me back."

Now, there are two kinds of booting. There's the booting you do before you pass out, which is fairly harmless and even kind of fun (you may even pull the boot'n'rally, in which case kudos to you). And then there is the booting you do after you pass out, which is like the withdrawal scene in "Trainspotting". It's horrible. You're tired, hungry, and still drunk even though you don't want to be. And you might see a dead baby crawling on the ceiling. Guhhhhhh. Bonus points if you have a wedding song running through your head. Mine was "September," by Earth, Wind, and Fire.

Which brings us to the NFL. As you can tell from this past week, Viking fans like myself (or any NFL fan whose team isn't coached by Bill Belichick, for that matter) usually spend the three hours allotted to games in a state of seething anger. Alcohol is necessary, if not mandatory. And let's face it. I love the NFL, but the average NFL game features 4,000 ads, 235 penalties, and Bill Maas saying something idiotic every 3.4 seconds. You're gonna need that booze. Or something stronger. That's right. It's a whole new season of getting drunk and high while watching the NFL. So let's evaluate your options:


Light beer
Light beer is the standard go-to drink for 1PM games. If you don't have the Dish, you can go to the bar, have four or five during the game, pay your tab ($15-$20), and drive home. My only problem with light beer is that, while drinking it, I often think to myself, "You know, this beer would taste much better if it had more alcohol in it." Drinking light beer means you're not getting drunk to your full potential, and that's a problem. To paraphrase the old Python joke: Drinking light American beer is like making love in a canoe. It's fucking close to water.


Regular beer
If you start the 1PM games drinking regular beer, you'll be napping by halftime of the 4:15 games. It's a lock. And maybe that's fine with you. My only problem is the after-nap period. It's like waking up to a whole new day, and that completely ruins your shit. It's Sunday night and you have to have family dinner time while trying to figure out if you need more beer or some kind of heavy barbituate. And the whole new Sunday Night on NBC thing may complicate it even further. You may also be in a shit mood because your team lost, or your fantasy team lost because this was the week Edgerrin James went 25-87 with no TD's (which will happen a lot this year).


Wine
Totally underrated for Monday Night viewing. You can drink a bottle of red (actual good wine, not the comedic version above) and get that wino glow while you watch the game. Plus, no bloating. Wine also makes people more convivial. After two glasses of cabernet, I somehow become even more witty and charming. I may even end up quoting "Conan the Barbarian" during the game, with the killing of your enemy, and the watching of them fleeing before you, and the listening to the lamentations of the woman, and what not. But no wine during a day game. That's for pussies.


Mixed drinks
Out of the question, unless you're at a wedding and watching the game after you've snuck out of the reception to the bar. Same with champagne. Now let's do a quick run through your liquor cabinet:


Scotch
Yes, please.

Irish Whiskey
Well, if you insist.

Bourbon
Totally. Bourbon makes my meast firm up.

Tequila
No.

Gin
BRAHHHHH!

Mezcal
Only if you're dying and want to finish yourself off.

Sherry/Cognac
During the 3rd quarter of a Monday game, this is acceptable. And at Thanksgiving.

Frangelico/Bailey's/Kahlua/etc.
No, no, no. That's Eurofag shit.


Weed
Completely depends on who you are. Weed improves boxing and Olympic sports for me (figure skating and weed is fucking epic, especially if you mute the TV and crank up a Dangerous Toys album). I'm all right with weed and football, though it makes me skip from game to game every 0.2 seconds. But I probably do that anyway. Who knows how it affects Sister Christian up there.

Cocaine/Heroin/Meth/PSP PCP/Gas Huffing/Crack/Snorted Ritalin
You probably aren't all that concerned about football if you're doing these. Even if you're a Bengal.

There's your 2006 preview. Be sure to drive responsibly. That means 11 Salty Dogs or fewer!

UPDATE: Folks on the West Coast have noted that the 10AM kickoff time coincides with brunch boozing options like the popular Bloody Mary and the ever-so-gay Mimosa. Since I'm not a tomato juice man, it's light beer and live goldfish for me. Doghead, everybody!

Oh, and someone mentioned Jagermeister. Guhhhhh. Nothing says "Party!" like a drink that tastes like the floor of a movie theater. I'll pass.