Showing posts with label game posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label game posts. Show all posts

Sunday, February 3, 2008

And It All Comes Down to Douche

Or at least it will after another eight-hour hype injection.

We've had more than a sneaking suspicion all along that it might come to this, and now we're at least hoping for a mercifully competitive game out of these two teams. And at least one mildly amusing commercial wouldn't hurt either. Because we don't get another meaningful football game for another seven goddamn months and I'm not quite ready to deal with that.

Either way, history is tied to New England today. If they win, they're the first 19-0 team ever in the NFL. If they lose, it's the Greatest Choke Job of All-Time. A Giants win is an inspiring and unlikely title run, but ultimately replicating a feat the Steelers pulled off two years earlier. And Pey-Pey and Eli have something to go with their matching decoder rings.

Enjoy whatever boozy party you happen to visit. If you're gonna drive drunk, make sure to mow down any celebrating Pats fans you might see in the street. No worries; no jury will convict you.

Sunday, January 20, 2008

"C'mon Greg. Quit Doddlin'. Time to Run the Next Play."

Greg Jennings: Gat dammit Brett, put me down! I'm not hurt, I can walk fine, you woollyheaded man-child.

Brett Favre: I won't hear it! We're going downfield and I'm not leaving you behind.

There comes a time in every quarterback's career where he has to take his team on his back, Greg. Now's that time for me. The wind's to my back again. Me and Father Time done reached an understanding that I'm on borrowed time. I have the renewed purpose of a man who knows to value his days. To make it count, what little life I have left.

Greg Jennings: Man, you're not dying. You'll just have to retire someday.

Brett Favre: See, that's thing: the day I retire will be my last on this mortal coil. Madden and I already have the murder-suicide planned out. I couldn't do that, that life of the former QB, becoming some yammering old coot. My boyish heart of a champion couldn't live in a dried-up old vessel.

And I couldn't deal with Deanna. Damn, that bitch is annoying.

Is There a Lesser of These Two Douches?


Well, who else can I root for?

What's this you're showing me?

Sharp stick in the what? Eye?

Ouf. Hmm. Does look kinda painful. Awful pointy, too. And my eye? Really? Sounds like that might hurt. Couldn't just jam it under my shoulder blade, huh? Okay, I suppose those are the rules. I do have two eyes, after all. And fuck pulling for Brady, Welkaaaaah, HGHarrison, Belicheat and Kool Aid. And fuck Marmalard, Norval, The Gigantosaur and whiny ass LT. Cromartie's kinda cool, but whatever.

[Piercing screams]

Whooo. Ahhhh. Omigodomigodomigod. That hurts like shit. But, y'know: It's not so bad, all things considered. Much better than that Chargers-Patriots shit.

Update: I was thrown out of the Patriots bar because I was the only one rooting against the Patriots. What sorry pathetic bitches you Pats fans are.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Can Eli Sunday Get That Texas Tea?

Eli Manning busted his playoff victory cherry last week in Tampa Bay and now Tony Romo's all, like, "Hey, man. I thought we made a decision to lose our postseason winning virginity together?"

Then Eli was like, "I'm sorry. It kinda, sorta just happened. You can't expect me to say no to something like that."

Then Romo cried.

Eli has been insisting it wasn't that big a deal, but Romo can notice the changes in him already. Eli's not as uneasy around playoff games, he exudes a confidence he didn't have before.

Good thing Eli is an actual sexual virgin or Romo would be really pissed.

Another Glorious Manning/Marmalard Face-off

It's game one of Manning Sunday featuring that older accomplished pitchman brother, Pey-Pey. He can sell you the coat off your own back at twice value. In fact, he keeps a collection of knockoff Rolexes under his jersey if you're looking for one.

The Chargers have won their last two against Indy, including the Nov. 11 regular season contest, in which Pey-Pey famously sold the defense a whopping six beachfront interceptions and Adam Vinatieri botched a chip shot that cost them the game. What will take to get that guy to stop choking?

Not having to rely this time on Craphonso Thorpe at wideout, the Colts will have certainly more reliable, if less hilariously named, receivers this time around. Meanwhile, the roof of the RCA Dome may be opened because no one enclosure can contain the doucheiness that is Marmalard.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Breaking: Tom Brady to Play Tonight's Game with Gisele's Dog Up His Ass

"Shouldn't've ordered all that dick"

Which is only slightly less gay than carrying the dog around in this bag.

Even though we revel in bagging on the guy whenever possible, Simmons' column this week was actually, truth to tell, pretty good and well-reasoned. That must be his first one this season. If you're a Pats fan - and fuck you if you are - that's gotta be a troubling sign.

But leave it to The Onion to trump him with the concise and very real insight into the minds of Pats fans this week. I'm sure Silky Garrard will receive only the most levelheaded and gentlemanly of heckling from the Gillette Stadium crowd.

Of course, I'm gonna go ahead and say there's no fucking chance in hell Jacksonville wins this game. Are they just plain not good enough to beat the Pats? Perhaps. But more so because the league will do whatever it takes to ensure that the New England-Indianapolis AFC Title Game goes down. If this game is even remotely close, be sure to take a shot every borderline call (or non-call) that goes the Patriots' way. Just don't have your relatives sue the site when you die of alcohol poisoning.

We're Gonna Take the Ball and We're Gonna Get Two or Three First Downs. Then We're Probably Going to Punt

If old age has granted me any wisdom, it's that I've learned to temper my expectations a touch. I'm a much more mature man than I was in those days.

No staying up past 11, no drives longer than six minutes. It wears me down. I'm just trying to keep it at an even keel these days.

Whew. Hey. Hold on, Aaron Kampman. Let's say we take a breather and head over to the Robeks for a boysenberry smoothie? My treat.