Matt Bryant had a heartfelt and disquieting moment in honoring the son he buried a day before suiting up for the Bucs. Anquan Boldin and Clifford Russell had harrowing moments of a different sort. Brett Favre won the Ronnie Brown Award for the player who waved his genitalia at you from your fantasy bench. Meanwhile, between Philly/Chicago and Green Bay/Tampa, there were enough killer turnovers than to do His Gunslingness proud. Other gameday observations and marginalia after the jump.
No game needed gratuitous cheerleader shots quite like the Browns and the Bengals. I took in altogether perhaps four minutes of this clunker and every one of those moments I envied Paul Newman for dying before having to exist in the same world as this game. What was up with the last second Carson scratch? More pressing cornholing engagement? That had implications on thousands of poorly managed fantasy teams!
I’m fairly certain this ad made its way across some TV set I was watching no fewer than 78 eleventyseven times. Any football fan has long come to accept that only shitty beers advertise on sports broadcasts, but at least they don’t usually try to lie to you so blatantly. Quit trying to play up your American bona fides, you Eurotastic Belgian swill.
I watched the Washington-Dallas game in a bar populated equally by Redskins and Cowboys fans. I have to say, the two fanbases’ respective fucktardery is astonishingly even, almost to the point of being indistinguishable. Every time a team scored, some fuckwit would get up and whoop it up for about 20 seconds in front of the giant projection TV, then another 30 seconds trying to hear the subsequent trash talk from someone in the back of the bar. Where were you, meteor? I would have gladly taken one for the team.
And, really, no one should be subjected to Hail to the Redskins 12 times in one day without a conviction of war crimes. But then, Redskins fans aren’t shaving their logo into their hair (as far as I know, or even care to know), so we’ll score this round for them.
Before the Maj gets to the chance to wax jubilant about his ‘Skins triumph in Big D, let’s get in a quick installment of Knocked The Fuck Out Theatre starring Rock Cartwright and Keith Davis. It’s a stirring reminder that no player in the league looks tougher when getting their ankle rolled than Mike Sellers!
I want more like this!
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