Wednesday, September 15, 2004
[Warning: if you don't like sports, stop reading and come back tomorrow. I needed to get some shit off on my chest, so I wrote a post about how I have a crush on my roommate Brian. But then I scrapped that, and decided to be overly manly and wrote about sports. So there.]
I don’t often write about sports. I’m not really sure why, since I love sports. If I didn't have football, baseball, basketball, and hockey (in that order), I would certainly become a murderer, since I would have more time on my hands than I'd know what to do with, and would naturally focus my energy on destroying those around me, before ultimately destroying myself after an eight-day, four-night cocaine-fueled hijacking spree through the Rocky Mountain region. There's no doubt in my mind that when I was eventually shot dead by the Colorado State Police, I would NOT have pants on. No way.
Anyway, the thing is, in many ways, I hate sports. Watching a game in which a team I have a vested interest in is playing is usually a miserable experience. This is especially true of the Philadelphia Eagles. Football is definitely my favorite sport to watch, but come Sunday afternoons when the Eagles are on, you wouldn't know that if you saw me. Spending three hours of your afternoon trapped in a windowless apartment with a massive hangover, sitting on the edge of your seat crippled with anxiety as you swear and sweat your way through a game, well, it's really not that fun.
Since I am your token unathletic fat kid who may or may not have given a handjob to a Lhasa Apso in fourth grade, I've taken quite a shine to fantasy sports. Fantasy sports, for those unfamiliar with them, allow a person to be the general manager of his own fake team, by drafting players, trading players, deciding which players to play, etc, all the while accumulating the statistics for his/her fake team of the real-life players. Usually a bunch of buddies get together and create a league, in which the talk shit about each other and each others' girlfriends (or lack thereof) and brag/bitch about their jobs and ask when other members of the league are finally going to come out of the closet.
The result of playing fantasy sports? A marked increase in each participant's interest in sports. Prior to playing fantasy baseball, I would care very little if Shawn Chacon got a save in this week's Rockies game. Now, whether or not Shawn Chacon gets that save determines whether or not I am going to make dinner for my roommates or attack my roommate Ben in his sleep with a hammer because he drank the last of my gatorade.
Where am I going with this? I'm am trying to brace you all for the greatest NFL predictions in the history of mankind. I know, I know - the NFL season started last week, but I'm only finally getting around to this now. I have a lot going on, what with, um, all the stuff I do at work and, um, all the volunteer work I perform.
One caveat: I'm going to post records, but they will be mathematically inaccurate. Meaning, if you think I'm going to sit here and make sure that all the records even out to .500, well, you're sadly mistaken. Jerkoff.
Home to the reigning Super Bowl champs, the New England Patriots. I'm glad they won last year, because everyone knows how much I love Massholes and how I live to see them happy. But with two Super Bowl victories in three years, that whining about the Red Sox is getting less and less understandable. At any rate, five things you need to know about this division:
1) Tom Brady is dreamy.
2) Chad Pennington sounds dumber than a retard after a bottle of Jack, but was actually a Rhodes Scholar finalist.
3) Buffalo is cold and Drew Bledsoe is a douche.
4) Ricky Williams abandoned his team in Miami because he'd rather do drugs.
5) Miami will get the first pick in next year's draft.
New England 12-4
NY Jets 9-7
If one were to pick a list of four cities in the US I'd rather eat my own shit for life than live in, this is the list (apologies to readers in those cities). Subsequently, I have the same level of interest as living in these cities as I do about their footballs teams.
Five things you need to know:
1) Ray Lewis murdered a guy. This is not a joke.
2) Jeff Garcia, even if he were to win the next five Super Bowls, will forever been known as "that gay quarterback."
3) Hey John Kitna, good job being Comeback Player of the Year and leading the Bengals back to respectability. Now you can have the bestest seat on the bench.
4) Is anyone else tired of the Bill Cowher act? We get it - you have a moustache and you yell. Guess what? Your team stinks.
5) Jamal Lewis may go to prison for a long, long time. This is not a joke.
Now we're cooking. We've got two great teams in the Titans and Colts led by last year's co-MVP's, and two teams that I'd rather watch my parents have sex than watch play against each other in Jacksonville and Houston.
1) Peyton Manning definitely has a vagina.
2) Steve McNair could definitely beat me in a fight.
3) Byron Leftwich definitely has the name of seventeenth century British baron, not a 24 year-old black dude.
4) David Carr will definitely never be a winner.
5) Aside from Ray Lewis, the last dude I'd ever want to meet in a dark alley at 4am after too much to drink is Edge (have you fucking seen that guy?).
A stellar division, with some very enjoyable football teams. As a side note, how could Eli Manning turn down SD for NYC (and yes, I know the Sports Guy talked about this)? I know NYC is cool, but if I'm a star athlete and can get any girl I want, I'm going to be dead in two months from seven different STD's. But before I died, I would much rather be in San Diego than New York City (and he's probably not even in NYC, and is instead somewhere in NJ - ugh).
1) If given the job full-time, I'm pretty certain I could rush for about 800 yards in Denver's offense.
2) Can anyone appreciate how sick LaDanian is? He caught 100 passes last year! Holy shit balls!
3) While we're at it - "Hi, I'm Priest Holmes, Fantasy Football God." On the other hand, when he's getting laid, do women scream about, "Oh give it to me Priest! Fuck me Priest!" I know that's what I screamed in 1989, but the circumstances were a little different.
4) Rich Gannon went to my high school, and I really hope he gets good again.
5) I wish I knew Al Davis personally, and I could bring him out to bars with me. Now that'd be some good times.
Kansas City 11-5
San Diego 6-10
Tomorrow, we'll tackle the NFC and the playoffs.