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.
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.
KSK’s on-going preview of all 32 NFL clubs rolls on with the Indianapolis Colts, the team whose 13-0 start last year almost made Nick Buoniconti, Bob Keuchenberg and a few other pricks worry about their fruity little yearly champagne toast. Let’s do this…
Four things you might not know about the Indianapolis Colts:
1. The original Colts franchise started out as the Miami Seahawks in the old All-American Football Conference.
2. New kicker Adam Vinatieri is Evel Knievel’s third cousin
3. The Colts obtained the pick used to draft Marvin Harrison (110 touchdowns, 53 100-yard receiving games) from the Falcons as part of the Jeff George trade.
4. Late Colt owner Bob Irsay was a total cock.
Colts fans seem like a pleasant enough bunch. They tend to be better looking than Bears fans, thinner than Packer fans, and smarter than Browns fans. Colts fans aren’t nearly as offensive as their neighbors to the east, the misanthropic drunks that follow the Bengals. Even in the face of the Troy Polamalu travesty, they whine less than Seattle fans. Still, the way Indianapolis stole its franchise from the good people of Baltimore makes it difficult to pity Indy fans too much. Not to get too Ramakrishna (or even Earl Hickey), but if you believe in karma, it’s going to be a long time before the Colts win a Super Bowl.
Since 1999, the Colts average a 12-4 regular season record. Yet each ensuing post-season has seen the Colts go down like a tranny hooker on Eddie Murphy. At this point, we know the deal. The Colts will cruise through the regular season (including a Guy Fawkes’ Night win in Foxboro; inevitably on a Vinatieri kick) and then, in predictably spectacular fashion, they will choke big time in the playoffs. Manning turnovers will be a factor. It is a foregone conclusion. Done deal. Fait accompli.
Tony Dungy and Peyton Manning have the unique ability to make a 3-4 defense look more daunting than Chinese algebra. In the divisional playoff loss, when he wasn’t getting dumped on his underachieving ass, Manning was pointing, flapping, waving and flailing like a Times Square traffic cop, trying unsuccessfully to pick up Pittsburgh’s disguised blitzes. After the game, instead of addressing his own deficiencies against the 3-4, Manning chose to throw his under-coached offensive line under the bus. What a tool.
On offense, the Colts are trying to replace Edgerrin James. Simply put, Edge > Dominic Rhodes + Joseph Addai. Much to the chagrin of fantasy football owners, it will be running back by committee in Indy. This isn’t one of those good committees either, we’re talking about the House Subcommittee on Specialty Crops and Foreign Agriculture Programs here.
On defense, the Colts can bring it on the pass rush. Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis are bona fide studs against the pass. We look forward to another season of broadcasters riding Bob Sanders’ jock for his run-stopping ability, while overlooking the fact that his pass coverage is, at best, reminiscent of Elvis “Toast” Patterson.
Look for another gaudy regular season for the Colts. However, the only eminent post-season drama involving the Colts is which goofy Mastercard ad will serve as fodder for taunting Manning and Colts fans. Last year’s “Dee-caf…dee-caf!” still may have some mileage left in it, but 2004’s epic “Cut that meat! Cut that meat!” is still the standard bearer. Maybe in this year’s commercial Manning will pretend to be a fanatic supporter of a Mayflower truck driver. Karma’s a bitch, Colts fans.
There’s no real point to this post, other than to push Brett Favre’s stupid mug further down the page and away from our memory.
Courtesy of YouTube, we have a history of the NFL’s most vicious hits, many of them stemming back to the olden days back when men were men, sedans guzzled gas, and the NFL didn’t have any pussy rules against spearing or helmet-to-helmet hits. You know, the game was so much better before the League pretended to care about the long-term health of its players/started paying star quarterbacks more than public school teachers/adopted the forward pass. Because if former players who have become commentators have taught me anything, it’s that the past is always better.
Personally, I like how this clip is set to the dulcet tones of Prodigy. You just know that after a big hit, Sean Taylor tells opponents, “I am the fire starter!” He’s not kidding, either. Before every home game he drives up to Baltimore and sets a warehouse on fire. And he doesn’t care who’s inside.
The early indications based on our discussions with league sources are that Favre will announce his retirement from the NFL at a Wednesday press conference [scheduled for 12:30 p.m. ET]… here’s what we know — a response from one member of the organization to a direct question regarding whether Favre is calling it quits today did not have the “No way in hell!” or “I’m looking into this right now!” quality that would be expected upon hearing that The Franchise is walking away in the middle of training camp.
Oh man, this could totally fuck up Peter King’s fantasy league.
Phew, with the Peter King joke out of the way, I can rest easy. I’m not going to make a hurricane joke, I’m not going to make a painkiller joke, I’m not going to make a “Brett Favre just loves to play football!” joke. After the five-month “Will he or won’t he?” cocktease that nobody cared about but was relentlessly jammed down our throats by the media, I, for one, refuse to give a shit.
But hear this now: If the rumor is true, and the Legendary Brett Favre repays his offensive line’s recent incompetence by hanging the Packers out to dry in the middle of the preseason, check back here tomorrow for what we expect to be the single greatest thing Big Daddy Drew has ever written. UPDATE: Motherfucker. Apparently it’s just a standard media something-or-other. Damn you, Brett Favre! Shit or get off the pot, man! When will this nightmarish media merry-go-round end???
UPDATE from Drew: Fuck you, PFT. You West Virginia cockteases. This is not the morning you want to fuck with me. I hope Koren Robinson dates your daughters.
We in the sports world know Jacksonville for two things: its lone professional sports team, the Jaguars, and its ability to host a Super Bowl that sportswriters bitched about endlessly.
Oh, but the things this vile ‘ville have visited upon our culture - from a nu-metal-rap supergroup that captured the imagination of the Dead Tree Crew for years to come, to emo scum Yellowcard, and slow… ass… rapping… Ma$e… is… from… there… as… well. It’s also the most populous city in Florida. This means the city has more Floridians than any other place in existence, save the line snaking up to St. Peter. And Jacksonville is named for Andrew Jackson. Yes, Old Hickory, the ugliest motherfucking president ever. God, he makes us look like us put Max Shreck on the twenty. Can’t wait until Bushopolis gets a team.
So what I’m saying is Jacksonville is a festering, feculent blight on our otherwise proud nation.
But the Jags are coming around again to the respectability they enjoyed in the late ’90s. In three years under Jack Del Rio, they’ve gone from 5-11 in ‘03 to 9-7 in ‘04 to 12-4 last year. Hell, they were the only team to beat both Super Bowl teams last year - even if the win over the Steelers was courtesy of a Tommy Maddox special.
Byron Leftwich continues to amaze by being the most gifted athlete in the NFL when playing while hurt. Fred Taylor astounds us by how often he gets hurt.
And their punter, Chris Hanson, has given us endless grist for the pederast mill with his weekly exposes on Dateline. Keep fighting the good fight, Chris.
Their offense took a hit in the offseason with the retirement of that guy from NYPD Blue and the West Wing and in response, the team picked every fucking player that ever went to UCLA in the draft, including a fine luxury automobile on loan from the campus.
With Smith gone, the passing game looks to the deceptively fast, deceptively tall, deceptively white quarterback-turned-receiver Matt Jones. His was a decent rookie campaign last year, you know, for a white guy. He scored five white touchdowns and gained 432 white yards. Let’s hope he can generate something — even though the defense is stout and they were 12th in the NFL in scoring, it seemed like the Jags won all of their games 13-7.
This is a big year for you, Jaguars; things are on the up-and-up, but you’re still trailing your ‘95 expansion brothers, the Panthers. When you both made a conference title game in your second season, we all took notice. Frankly, we were impressed. But the Panthers’ve been to a Super Bowl. Win or lose, that puts them ahead. That makes them the Marlins to your Rockies, the Diamondbacks to your Devil Rays. You don’t want to be the fucking Devil Rays, do you? The Devil Rays don’t wanna be the Devil Rays.
Before I get to my notes from last night’s Raiders-Vikes tilt, I’d like to show you this quote from Michael Smith in an ESPN.com article about Sean Taylor:
Redskins outside linebacker Marcus Washington has dubbed Taylor ‘Meast,’ as in, half-man, half-beast.
That’s right. Meast. What a filthy, disgusting word. I know the Skins think it says half-man, half-beast. But what it really says is half-meat, half-moist. And that is just wrong. It sounds like something you’d see in a Tool video. Guhhhhhh. I want Meast added to the KSK lexicon immediately. There should be at least 20 different definitions for it on Urban Dictionary. Let’s try using it in a few sentences:
-”I like Andrew Blake’s movies, but he tends to show an awful lot of meast.” -”The Manhole has ‘Feast on Meast Night’ every Thursday night! Just bring your $20 cover and a bottle of corn syrup.” -”Yup, that’s a meast infection.” -”I thought the smell was coming from my taint, but it turns out the meast was the problem!”
Anyway, let’s go right to my thoughts on last night’s Raiders-Vikings preseason tilt. This was the debut of Tony Kornheiser on Monday Night Football, which is actually just Sunday Night Football, but on Mondays. Sunday Night Football is the new Monday Night Football. And if that confuses you, just remember: the junior varsity broadcast is the one that has Joe Theismann. Let’s go!
-As a Viking fan, I was very excited for tonight’s game. Until I realized that the Vikings are the only team that can give a 9-7 season a real 3-13 sheen. Good thing they’re playing the Raiders!
-I missed the opening of the broadcast, and that’s for the best. ESPN is keeping the Hank Williams song for the opening, except they’ve added an “all-star” band of Little Richard, Joe Perry, Steve Van Zandt, and others to back Hank up. It won’t help. The song is dogshit. I am ready for football. I am not ready for NASCAR. That’s for Southern fuckfaces. So ditch the song already, ESPN.
-ESPN used two sideline reporters for the game, which reminds me of an old Dennis Miller line: “Hey folks, two of SHIT is SHIT. If they really wanted to fuck you, they’d give you three of these things.”
-The new ESPN score box completely fucks me up. It doesn’t just look like the Arkanoid. It is the Arkanoid. When it needs to display down-and-distance, it swallows the E powerup and extends out. I expected the football to split into three at any moment, or for the score box to start firing at shit.
-This is the first game to take place right after the Portis injury, so the Vikings needed to protect their most prominent offensive player: uh… guard Steve Hutchinson. Patriots owner Bob Kraft said giving a $16 million bonus to a guard was “insane.” Pfft. What does he know about building a winning team? Hey Kraft, go make me some spaceship macaroni, you douche.
-There was a black Viking fan in the stands. Just want it noted. And no, it wasn’t Morris Day.
-The first quarter rolled by, and Tony Kornheiser said a grand total of about four words. But we got a glimpse of Tony’s potential later on. Tony mentioned that Raiders’ o-coordinator Tom Walsh had been out of football running a bed and breakfast (I assume Walsh provides a lovely basket of fresh muffins and danishes at all team meetings). Joe Theismann then, for no reason, stated that Walsh will be more prepared to return to football than Joe Gibbs was. Tony spent the next ten minutes needling Theismann over it, with Theismann (being Theismann) sticking to his opinion for dear life despite its obvious stupidity. We need at least two exchanges like this per quarter to make this whole experiment work.
-Theismann: “I just love Randy Moss on my football team.” Uh, okay.
-New Vikings coach Brad Childress is too thin. He looked like the test administrator played by Frank Oz in “Spies Like Us.” Aaaaghhh, the pressure!!!!!!
-Good to see Michele Tafoya stealing from Hilary Clinton’s wardrobe.
-Dan Marino showed up in an ad for Nutrisystem. Hey, fatties, if a multimillionaire world-class athlete can lose weight, so can you!
-The Vikings traded two third-round picks to move up to draft QB Tarvaris Jackson. Jackson’s first action was last night. He was poised, quick, and made good decisions. I’m totally gay for him.
-Since I work in advertising, I’ll give you the expert opinion that the Jaguar XK ads are totally spankworthy.
-The Vikes debuted their new unis this game, which looked like something out of the World League of American Football. I can’t wait to see them play the Orlando Thunder next week. The World League was headed up by former Vikes GM Mike Lynn, who also engineered the Herschel Walker trade. Quite a resume.
-Suzy Kolber to Aaron Brooks: “What have you been most proud about in your career?” I imagine it was the time Brooks went 12-23 for 184 yards and 3 INT’s after downing an entire bottle of Hypnotiq. Seriously, are you fucking kidding me with that question?
-Another Kolber gem to Brooks: “What’s it like to get used to Randy Moss’ ad-lib style of play?” Oh, I’m sure he loves it when his wideout walks five yards and then sits down on the weak side of the play.
-The biggest play of the game? A 67-yard bomb from Andrew Walter to Morant (No idea on the first name. Tim?). Get used to one good play per game, Raider fans. After that, it’s nothing but hideous crowd shots of people like yourself.
-More Kolber. She interviewed 500-lb. lineman and inevitable “Best Damn Sports Show” co-host Warren Sapp. She asked him how being injured last year made him better. That question made my meast itch.
-I made it to halftime of this game, just in time to watch the “Fastest 3 Minutes in Football” segment. Do the people at ESPN know that halftime is 15 minutes long? Take your fucking time. Jesus.
Those are the game notes. I thought the ESPN crew was fairly decent. Tirico was bland, Theismann was mildly improved without Paul MaGuire there to dumb him down even further, and Kornheiser showed promise. The Vikings looked good passing, mediocre running, and great on defense. And the Raiders looked God-awful. But that’s the beauty of preseason. Wait until the Raiders un-gel. Then they’ll really suck.
UPDATE: The Vikings appear to have lost first-round pick Chad Greenway for the year last night. Fuck. I mean, really. Fuck.
A lot of us look at the photo below and see two burly, capable quarterbacks, men of questionable intellect but unlimited passion. We see this photo and we grasp for the first joke that comes to mind: “Well, Ben’s a step up from Brenda, and Kurt’s a step up from Steeler groupies.”
Not satisfied with the obvious joke, J.E. Skeets of The Basketball Jones, author of the “Romance on the Hardwood” series, sees the kind of awkward meeting that unrequited love produces. Please welcome KSK’s first-ever guest columnist, J.E. Skeets.
“Truly Madly Deeply” by Savage Garden.
Ben: Oooooo … I love this song. Kurt: Mm, one of Garden’s best. Ben: Oh, definitely. Kurt: Yeah. Ben: Without a doubt. Kurt: Yeah.
Kurt: So … Ben: So … Kurt: So … let me have a look at you then. You okay? Ben: Me? Yeah, fine. Never felt better. Kurt: Have you thanked Him yet? Ben: Who? Kurt: God. You know God was riding with you that day, right? Ben: Oh, yeah, for sure. Actually, He’s the real reason I crashed. Shifty Bastard wouldn’t stop tickling me from behi– Kurt: Please. Ben: I’m kidding, I’m kidding.
Kurt: Well, you’re very lucky to be alive, Banjo. You should thank Him sometime. Ben: Wow, Banjo? I haven’t heard that in a while. Kurt: Oh, I remember… Ben: Was that the time we went up to Lake Guilford for the weekend? Kurt: It is. Ben: But what was it again? Were we picnicking or something? Kurt: Yeah, we were picnicking and that old man with the banjo came up behind us, just strummin’ away like crazy, and you, you just thought that ol’ banjo was the most beautiful instrument you had ever heard. Ben: Is that where it’s from? That’s sort of weird. Kurt: And we were eating salmon sandwiches. Ben: Wow. Kurt: I remember that because you just wouldn’t stop going on about how amazing that olive and onion relish I made tasted. Ben: Yeah, okay … wow, how you remember that? Kurt: The best times of your life aren’t easy to forget, Ben. Ben: Mm, yeah, it was pretty good. Good times.
Kurt: I want to bathe with you in the sea. Ben: Excuse me? Kurt: Oh, ha, sorry. The lyrics: I want to stand with you on a mountain; I want to bathe with you in the sea… Ben: Oh, right. [Awkward silence]
Kurt: Was that weird? Ben: Was what weird? Kurt: That, right there. You know, when I said I wanted to bathe with you in the sea because I started think– Ben: Yeah, yeah … no, it’s cool. You were just singing the song, right? Kurt: Well… Ben: Oh come on Kurt, can we not just leave it alone? It was a good weekend; nothing more, nothing less. Kurt: A good weekend? Ben: Yeah, a good weekend. Look, we had some beers, shared a few laughs – two dudes just hanging out camping. Kurt: Bathing each other… Ben: For Christ’s sake Kurt! Kurt: Hey! You will not take the Lord’s name in vain! Ben: Easy, easy. I’m sorry. Kurt: Apologize to Him. Ben: I said I’m sorry. Kurt: Say it to Him, not me. Ben: I just did. Kurt: Say it to the sky. Ben: What? No. Kurt: SAY IT TO THE SKY! Ben: Whoa, would you settle the fuck down? Jeeees– Kurt: Go ahead. Do it. Ben: I didn’t say it! Kurt: No, no, no … you want to. Go ahead. Say it. Ben: Hahaha… Kurt: Well? Ben: Jesus Christ. Kurt: That’s it, I’m gone. Goodbye. Ben: Kurt, I’m kidding. Hahaha… Where are you going?
Kurt: Um, I don’t know how you plan on getting there, but if you take your bike, may I suggest you wear a helmet this time. Rumor has it Hell’s roads are a bitch. Ben: Kurt, come back. I was just kidding. I love God. He’s neat.
Tonight we offer you, the KSK reader, the opportunity to get into our collective heads. If you’ve ever asked what it’s like to carry on a constant conversation with fellow bloggers while watching a crappy yet humorous game of Sunday Night Football then here’s your answer…
MMP: Sup, it’s MMP
UM: Chillin’, waiting for the Chinese food
MMP: Joe Gibbs having headset issues
MMP: Getting pizza here, chilling with We Must Protect This Hoff
UM: I just switched over to NBC, I was caught up in The Amazing Panda Adventure on Telemundo
MMP: NFC East is a jump ball, says Madden. The Redskins need to work on their power hitting, three-pt shooting, and their power play
MMP: I think the field is on fire
MMP: Those pandas are bad-ass!
UM: Carson Palmer looks like the Pope dressed in all white…beautiful
MMP: He is the savior
MMP: I am making an effort to spell and punctuate correctly the first time. We’ll see how that lasts.
UM: Fuck thet shit
***The Redskins are ready for action, here’s your first play***
MMP: Portis drags half the Bengals for 8 yards. No one on D was arrested
UM: Clinton Portis cannot be stopped, or contained for that matter
MMP: Yeah, I don’t like the burgundy pants either.
***Captain Caveman has entered the chat***
***Brandon Lloyd lays out to catch an overthrown ball from Brunell***
CC: That Lloyd catch was the balls
UM: Brandon Lloyd may or may not be Superman.
MMP: hamster in the TP tube says thumbs down as well
UM: Seriously people, watch out for Mike Sellers, he’s an ex coke dealer who can carry a bus on his back.
***Brunell floats up a misguided pass and watches it fall into the hands of the defense. Clinton Portis makes a great tackle on the return but he took the worst of it.***
CC: I can’t believe they didn’t give us a replay of the shot Portis delivered there
UM: I know, fucking Peacock
CC: They’re definately working out kinks — what was up w/ that herky-jerk sideline shot?
UM: I think they’re smoking crack in the NBC production trailer UM: If Brunnel throws off his back foot one more time I’m going to chop it off
MMP: Nice INT. Sweet ass hit on the return.
UM: If Portis is really hurt I’m going to jump off of a large building
***Cincy takes control on offense very briefly***
UM: The Skins defense swarms like ill-tempered bees
UM: I’m fairly sure Todd Collins took the short bus to tonight’s game
UM: Wait a minute…Chris Henry just caught a pass, who let him out of lockdown?
CC: As long as the skins keep turning it over outside of FG range, this should be a pretty exciting scoreless tie
***Anthony Wright takes another pounding in the pocket***
UM: I think Anthony Wright just shit his pants…nice spin move from Marcus
MMP: It was like hitting the circle button in NHL ‘05
***While trying to avoid a safety Collins throws another ball at his favorite lineman. The ruling is Intentional Grounding in the Endzone…2-0 to the ‘Nati***
UM: Todd Collins has driven me to drug use
CC: like he couldn’t decide between getting a safety or throwing another INT to a lineman
UM: Holy crap, he’s such a dipshit
UM: Well somebody had to score
CC: I desperately want this to be the final score
MMP: Todd Collins, Sour mix and bathtub gin?
CC: Skins should’ve signed KERRY Collins
UM: No way, we still have at least three Campbell to Espy td’s coming in the second half
CC: I’m SO getting the fuck out of this chat before then
MMP: loving the Chad Johnson mohawk
UM: His head should be in a museum, it’s a work of art.
MMP: Hoff: he’s channeling Viscera and the gold grill
***Marvin Lewis cracks open the playbook with a perfect flea flicker to TJ Whosyourdaddy***
MMP: Flea flicker!!
UM: Trickeration from Anthony Wright?
CC: TJ and Berman just wet themselves
UM: Housh just got run down by a white boy…deceptive baby
MMP: His last name was weighing him down
CC: He’s tired from running from the police
CC: “Let’s got to Cris… what’s it like to not rate being the booth?”
UM: If there were a God in heaven he would send a lighting bolt to Cris Collinsworth’s microphone
CC: Cris has got a lot more volume in hair than last season — you think he changed shampoos?
MMP: His mousse budget got a boost, NBC put it in his deal
UM: His hair seems to be running full speed from his forehead
***Another Redskins player is down and he’s not getting up…can you say MCL?***
MMP: Is the game still going on?
UM: Ah fuck
CC: How long can it be 2nd and goal?
MMP: They’re trying the new 25-minute play clock…
UM: Clemons was wearing a cast before they even picked him up…bad news bears
CC: We’re on track for 8 Redskins injuries by the end of the game
***Chris Henry begins the redemption process by hauling in a touchdown from Wright***
MMP: touchdown
UM: Now I’m pissed
MMP: Chris Henry
UM: CHRIS HENRY FOR MAYOR!!!
MMP: He has the right to score touchdowns, any play he makes will be used against his opponents
UM: do you think he crossed himself and gave props to Jesus after each arrest?
CC: First time he’s scored in the presence of adults since last season
MMP: I know it
UM: ouch
CC: Did he change his # to 15 honor of his girlfriend?
MMP: nice
MMP: 15 to life
MMP: Andrea Kremer looks like shit
UM: Andrea Kremer just looks annoying…I think she’s a wrinkly manequin
UM: Breaking News: Bengal fans dislike Jerome Bettis who is from Detroit
UM: Madden’s got two bills on Bettis easy
***The game has gone into a fourth quarter festival of boredom***
UM: Well I think we’re pretty close to wrapping up this chat session. I’d like to thank Mr. Chen’s Organic Chinese for catering the event. On behalf of my friends Mos Def and Elvis Costello I bid you farewell from the UnsilentMansion…It’s even bigger than the Sports Guy’s!
Scores and highlights from a lame-ass weekend of NFL pre-season “action.”
Friday Detroit 20, Denver 13: This game came down to the final play, which might have been exciting were it not the third-string determining the outcome of the game. Bad news for Detroit: game doesn’t count. Bad news for Jake Plummer: Jay Cutler looked pretty damn good. Bad news for Jay Cutler: it was against the Lions… the Lions’ second team, at that.
Tampa Bay 16, New York Jets 3: Chad Pennington played two series, looking strong after consecutive shoulder surgeries to his throwing arm. He even showed off his arm strength by going deep with a couple of 15-yard out patterns. Atlanta 26, New England 23: The big story coming out of Atlanta is punter/kicker Michael Koenen, who’s looking to expand his punting and kickoff duties to include field goals afer making four of them against the Patriots. “I have reservations about it,” Coach Jim Mora said. “I can’t say he won the job. I liked what I saw tonight, but I’m concerned about having a guy do all three jobs.” Yes, because punting five times throughout the course of three hours may make him too exhausted to kick a field goal.
New York Giants 17, Baltimore 16: Steve McNair survives one series uninjured. Punch lines Jeremy Shockey (concussion) and Ray Lewis (coach’s decision) sit out. Wait a sec, Shockey’s STILL got a concussion from that one hit in practice two weeks ago? Yeah, I have “concussions” on a lot of Monday mornings when the Sunday night game runs late.
San Francisco 28, Chicago 14: Brian Griese looked good for the Bears, suggesting that maybe Rex Grossman (3/11, 47 yards, one knee remaining) and Kyle Orton (4/9, 42 yards, .18 BAC) aren’t the best choices to lead your franchise to an NFL championship. For the Niners, Alex Smith looked “strong… to quite strong” while “Bachelor” hunk Jesse Palmer played well enough to get a rose from coach Mike Nolan.
Saturday Arizona 21, Pitsburgh 13: Will Leitch rejoices at meaningless Buzzsaw victory; Arizonans rejoice at three hours of air-conditioning. Check KSK tomorrow morning for a VERY special feature on this game. Jacksonville 31, Miami 26: Jags throw 4 TD passes of 50+ yards; Nick Saban posts Craigslist ad after game looking for defensive backs. Daunte Culpepper and Byron Leftwich leave game surprisingly unhurt. Carolina 14, Buffalo 13: White receiver Drew Carter and former Seahawk Ken Lucas score first-quarter TDs to lead Panthros to meaningless win. Keyshawn Johnson shines, pleased to finally get the damn ball. J.P. Losman, Kelly Holcomb surprise no one by continuing to suck.
New Orleans 19, Tennessee 16: Tennessee mascot T-rac injures Saints QB Adrian McPherson (who?) with golf cart. No, that’s not some kind of typo. High-profile rookie report: Reggie Bush? Very good at football. Vince Young? Not bad, not good, mild ankle sprain. Lendale White? Sat out for spitting on teammate. Second-year “veteran” update: Pacman Jones gets 15-yard misconduct penalty for taunting after tackling Bush after a catch. Good to see that he’s grown up. Houston 24, Kansas City 14: Mario Williams didn’t play very well. And there was much gnashing of teeth in Houston. The Chiefs, desperate to replace Willie Roaf after Roaf fucked up Drew’s fantasy draft, played Kyle Turley at tackle. How Herm Edwards didn’t get a helmet thrown at him is beyond me. San Diego 17, Green Bay 3: Brett Favre, zero interceptions. Jesus wept.
Dallas 13, Seattle 3: Seahawks hear blogger say that it’s hard for opponents to win at Qwest, fail to realize they have to play hard for statement to be true. Tony Romo-sexual leads ‘Boys to win without the aid of Bledsoe or T.O.
Sunday Cincinnati 19, Washington 3: Bengals’ non-Johnson receivers look pretty good in easy win; Andrea Kremer most certainly does not. Residents of the capital prepare noose, stand on stool as they await news of Clinton Portis, who suffered a separated shoulder while slamming down a defender after one of the sixteen or seventeen INT’s that Redskins QBs threw.
This is the latest in KSK’s continuing preview of all 31 NFL clubs (plus the Texans).
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. 
