The world is ending
By Bandwagon Burt
Wind Sock
I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE.
I have tried to sleep for the last three nights, but I simply can't, so I'm on coffee and Smarties and Tootsie pops and caffeine pills, thinking about NFL football! I NEED TO KNOW WHO WINS THE SHOWDOWN.
You have The Patriots and their New England dynasty and Belichick the MAN-GENIUS and a nervous Bob Griese and Donte Stallworth up the middle and Richard Seymour, Medicine Man, and Randy Randy Moss! You can't not love that. And it's BOSTON, THE CITY OF ANGELS.
Then you have Peyton's Place and Marvelous Marvin Harrison and Reggie Wayne and going through the big D, and yes I mean Dallas! Dallas CLARK! The defense is hard hitting, with Freeney and Sanders and TONY DUNGY IS A BLACK MICHELANGELO. You can't not love that. Indianapolis FIVE-HUNDRED. I'm a member of the A/V club, and you know I'm talking about Adam Viniateri.
In the end, I choose neither. TIE GAME. You heard me.
Saturday Update: 4:09 p.m.
By Curtis Woodsworth
Fabulous
Honey, if you don't think I'll be watching tomorrow's game sitting in a bathtub full of raspberry jello, with my hair in rollers and clutching my Tom Brady and Bob Sanders bobblehead dolls, you are cuh-razy.
I love a good football game, and this is as good as it gets. While Peyton doesn't have the looks, he has the brains and sometimes you can look past a flabby ass and trapezodial forehead to appreciate some smarts.
On the other hand, Thomas is as rugged as camping in the woods with Kevin Millar in November. And he's got an arm like a big ol' hose.
My prediction for the game? Ecstasy.
The dark side - Saturday, 11:45 a.m.
DeJuan C3PO
Fly Scribe
I am damn sure that Uncle Marv is illiterate, but if he's reading, I want to make it clear that from now henceforth, I want the title of my column to be "The Dark Side With DeJuan C3p0." I can hear the pitter patter of fine ladyfeet running over to stroke DeJuan's chest hair as I type. "Oooh, suger, you that fly C3P0 from the Dark Side?" "Honey, let me show you my death star."
Cue that crazy ass music. Darth Vader is in the house, and he is breathing heavily.
That dark side shit is damn appropriate cuz that's kind of what the New England Patriots is. They've got Tom Brady and Mike Vrabel and Wes Welker and a whole lotta white folk, but that Bill Belichick is evil. He's got cameras in bathrooms and shit. DeJuan is not okay with that.
He's also done some damn crazy stuff in his career, and I am pretty sure ain't nobody likes him. He's probably killed a man. That's uncouth.
So all this undefeated shit, and this rolling over opponents? Dog, I think he's using some kind of dark force. Mindmelding and shit. I think Yoda would be mighty pissy if he saw what was going down. Man, I am on board with not calling down the dogs if you're up 21 in the fourth quarter. But they were up 40 with two minutes to go. What the shit? You don't want to kick the Redskins when their chips are down.
They've won three Super Bowls, and I have to wonder if some soul-selling with the devil ain't part of that. It just ain't right. It reminds me of my favorite song, "The Devil Went Down to Georgia" by the damn incomparable Charlie Daniels. Of course, the devil did not go down to Georgia because the Falcons probably didn't sell their soul. If they did, they got some shitty results out of that deal.
All's I've got to say is I'm pulling for the good guys, the whitest of white people Peyton Manning and Tony Dungy's white wizard Gandolf shit. Frodo Fucking Baggins.
Quarterback comparison - 7:27 p.m.
By Dakota Brezinski
Seven-year-old
I will always love Mr. Bubba.
He was my favoritest stuffed animal, a ginormous panda bear, and we had many wonderful times. Mr. Bubba was by my side went I rode on a plane for the first time to visit Grandma, and when I first climbed up the big tree at recess and started running around the school roof. Mr. Bubba was always there for me.
He was the greatest stuffed animal I ever had. But then came Dr. Eugene Burp.Dr. Eugene Burp was a present for my sixth birthday. He was a stuffed grizzly bear, with fuzzy fur, and he TALKED! All I had to do was grab his hand and he said funny things, like "Raaaaaaar." And "Don't start forest fires." We had lots of conversations, and Dr. Eugene Burp became a stuffed animal who could listen and talk back when I wanted to tell him about my day. I told him about how Tanner and I put a mice in Mrs. Winston's coffee, and he said, "Say no to smoking." Dr. Eugene Burp!
Slowly, he became my favoritest stuffed animal. When I would play in the yard, he would come with me and tell me fun things, even though it used to be Mr. Bubba who came with me. I think Mr. Bubba was jealous. It makes me sad sometimes because Mr. Bubba is still a really good stuffed animal, and if he challenged Dr. Eugene Burp to a fight, I think Mr. Bubba might win.
The media doesn't care about their Mr. Bubba, Peyton Manning, anymore. He averaged 36 touchdowns over the last three years and won a SUPER DUPER BOWL last year and has completed 65 percent of his passes every year since 2002, including this year. Tom Brady is pretty good, even better than Dr. Eugene Burp, with 30 touchdowns already. But before this year, he never completed 65 percent of his passes, and he has the advantage of a super good football team to play with.
But that doesn't make Mr. Bubba a bad stuffed animal, or Peyton Manning a quarterback everyone should forget. But there is only room for one favoritest stuffed animal in the hearts of people, and right now Tom Brady is the one who talks! "Don't have sex before marriage." I don't know what that means, but the man with the pretty green robe said it last weekend at church. It sounds like something Dr. Eugene Burp would say.
I still think Mr. Bubba could beat Dr. Eugene Burp in a fight. Someday, I will know.
Scouting Report Update - 4:07 p.m.
By Murphy Kramer
Punters win championships
Coach Murphy Kramer is the head football coach at Plano Horizons High School in Plano, Ohio. His Fighting Broncos have a 18-77 mark in his 10 seasons at the helm, including a 2-9 mark last season.
I've seen a lot of tremendous football games in my years on the Planet Mother Earth, some of them in person. A man with a sharp mind such as mine never forgets those moments, the rush of anticipation and the occasional burst of urine that squirts out the chute on a game-winning touchdown. I will never forget, for example, when the Buffalo Bills had an exciting 13-3 lead on Dallas at halftime of Super Bowl XXVIII in 1994, only to fall, 30-13. Games like that make you proud to be a coach.
But I have never seen anything that rivals this. The New England Patriots and Indianapolis Colts will square off for legal supremacy of the National Football League, with each team bearing a quarterback, a dominant aerial attack, coaches at the top of their game, and a fan base that comes from two of America's largest markets. It's Goliath vs. Goliath, which I promise you, will make any David vs. Goliath matchup blush.
This is not pansy football, like the Giants and Dolphins flying to England for crumpets and a friendly game on the goddamned pitch. This is what we've been waiting for. Old Murph breaks it down:
Running Game: Never in my life have I allowed a player of mine to have long dangling hair out of his helmet, unless that player wants to be called "she" for the rest of the year. I love Bill Belichick like a father loves his adult son -- proud and loving but always slightly irritated when he doesn't loan me money when I ask. I don't get this lapse in his coaching genius, allowing Laurence Maroney to parade all over the field like a little gypsy. I'd much rather have Joseph Addai and his superb start to the year, making everyone forget Edgerrin James. Advantage: Colts.
Wide receivers: I used to love Marvin Harrison, but not being able to play on the day of reckoning deeply disappoints me. It's like the feeling you get when you kid talks back to you for the first time, or runs away from home, or steals someone's car. It's just disgusting. And while Reggie Wayne is good, Randy Moss is the best big play receiver I've ever seen, and the Patriots have an edge if the Colts are missing half of their 1-2 punch. Somehow, Bill Belichick got Moss to try. Probably electrotherapy. Advantage: Patriots.
Quarterback: How dare you ask me to choose a side. One is on pace to break every record in the book, both in lovely young ladies bagged and touchdown passes thrown. Needless to say, scoring is not Tom Brady's problem. But all Peyton Manning has done is win a Super Bowl more recently than any other quarterback, and continue to dominate the league while everyone looks the other way at the shiny object in Massachussets. When will Peyton get some respect? I'll tell you when. Now. Dammit. Advantage: Colts.
Defense: That Bob Sanders has a lot of heart, but heart only gets you a cup of coffee, some doughnuts and a membership to the ladies' book club. The Patriots have real men with real size on their side, including the behemoth Mike Vrabel, who forced three fumbles in one game last week. Advantage: Patriots
Special teams: Adam Vinatieri has won Super Bowls with both these teams, which should tell you something. The mark of a good team is its kicker, and this is no exception. Advantage: Colts
Coach: You make me choose again, you wretched hags. Bill Belichick is a genius of epic proportions, while Tony Dungy is the greatest black man of all time. They're both going to be at the top of their game, with Belichick calling many plays involving Brady and Dungy calling many plays using Manning. In the end, I have to go with the man who dresses snappier. You can tell a lot about a man based on what he wears, and the color of his skin. Advantage: Colts.
Intangibles: The Patriots might be the best team ever. Advantage: Patriots.
In the end, I like the Patriots to win by two touchdowns, and the world will laugh and giggle at the concept of an undefeated season until Baltimore gives them the business on Monday Night in Week 13. It's a brave new world we live in, and Old Murph is just glad he isn't dead yet.
Friday, 2:27 p.m.: Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. To get psyched up for this weekend and The Greatest Regular Season Game Ever Played, let's do some pump-up word association.
Tom Brady. Peyton Manning. Football. Undefeated. Bill Belichick. Evil. Voldemort. Harry Potter. Hermione. Hot. Sex. Porn. Rusty Trombone.
Nice.
Properly psyched for the Apocalypse? I thought so. Here at Flotsam, we'll have coverage all weekend of an event you don't want to hear anymore about. But that's what sports journalism is about: ignoring the tried-and-true methods of supply and demand.
Here's a few links to get you started:
Tough crowd (ESPN): In this article, Greg Garber states his goal of finding out whether Tom Brady or Peyton Manning is better. He then polls several legendary quarterbacks about who is better. Predictably, they all act like little bitches and refuse to pick a side, saying that it's impossible to separate. It's a huge goddamn waste of time.
Mike Sando of ESPN writes another article about this same topic. He also fails to reach a single conclusion about which quarterback is better. What the hell? Who are we talking to here? Why won't anyone make a decision? Let's see if Sports Illustrated is any better.
Dr. Z of SI.com takes a look at the offenses of the two teams and compares the quarterbacks. The result? Another tie. The sports media can go to hell.
Check back later, when we'll have our own scouting report, as well as the entire Flotsam staff weighing in with their thoughts on the matchup. We're just going to keep updating this same post until it's longer than DeJuan's johnson.
P.S. Peyton Manning is better
Labels: Bandwagon Burt, Curtis Woodsworth, Dakota Brezinski, DeJuan C3P0, Murphy Kramer
1 Comments:
That graphic makes me fear for my life
will anyone be live blogging?
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