Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Bet On A Blockbuster

The 2009 Indianapolis Colts, if anything, have taught us a very valuable lesson about historical greatness. Yes, it's hard to chase. Yes, at times the daunting challenge of immortality may seem out of reach, rigorous, and impossible. And yes, you can give up if you want. You can absolutely quit, like a cowering, shivering pussy.

Luckily for sports fans, movie fans, and Billy Crystal fans, director Michael Lembeck and six fully grown men/storytellers came together with one ambitious goal in mind, and they made damn sure no starters were pulled until their own respective "pursuit of perfection" was complete.

They set out to create the worst fucking movie of all time:





So just to make sure you or I didn't miss any pivotal nuances here:

Dwayne  The Rock  Johnson stars as semi-pro hockey player Derek Thompson, a reasonable premise considering the NHL's overwhelming African-Canadian/Samoan percentage among active players.  Derek is the most punishing bully of an enforcer on his team, and most likely in the entire league.  We know this because when a rival player notices his tooth has been knocked out (by Derek's own vicious check), Derek's reaction is proud, diabolical laughter from a reclining leather chair.  We now have visual evidence supporting the creation of his crowd-favorite "Tooth Fairy" nickname! 

However, a possible shakeup rears its ugly head when a hot shot "future of the franchise"rookie (marginally famous Ryan Sheckler) greets his new team with an insult to Derek's face!  This blasphemous lack of respect hurts and surprises Derek, who is shirtless.

Now knowing the pain words can inflict, you would assume Derek would carefully watch what he says to people, especially fans.  Not so.  He apparently regularly crushes children's dreams of playing hockey, sometimes in front of their enabling "dreamer" parents. 

We then find out the ultimate crime:  Derek doesn't believe in fairy tales.  What Derek does believe in, the bastard, is telling his own daughter the tooth fairy doesn't exist.  The nerve, right?  I remember when my parents said that, and everyone I've ever met's parents said that, but for Derek to say that?  Who does that son of a bitch think he is?  Ashley Judd has every right to believe that scene deserves a disapproving scowl.

But ahoy!  Fate steps in, and Derek is found guilty (by a still unknown legislation headed by Julie Andrews) of crushing dreams or something, and grows wings!  He must become a tooth fairy!  Like, a real one!

Remember how good you felt during The Santa Clause 2 and The Santa Clause 3:  The Escape Clause?  Pretty fucking good, right?  Awesome!  Michael Lembeck directed both of those!  So we're guaranteed the same "Ahhhh!  Is that me in the mirror?  Whooooooooooaaaaaaaa!" montages, just based around a different bizarre adults-tricking-their-children tradition! 

Director Michael Lembeck, a grown man, is seen here directing Tim Allen, another grown man, on how to accurately portray Santa Claus, an imaginary man.

Sprinkle a little Billy Crystal here, a little Indian in the Cupboard special effects there, and wah lah!

Congratulations, Mr. Lembeck and Co.  You saw the adversity.  You saw the sharp criticism.  You saw the Mercury Morris-esque Gigli and Plan 9 From Outer Space in your path and you said, "Bring it the fuck on."

After all, I totally know what constitutes a successful motion picture these days.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Mercury Morris Is Smiling

"Alright, so we're straight on this? The perfect season stays alive, so long as you don't go 4-11 with an interception. Oh, and don't have a dastardly, dreadful, despicable, disastrous, dumbfounding, disgusting fumble that leads directly to a touchdown. Pretty much anything above an 11.2 QB rating will win the game. We cool? You need some water or something? You look miserable. OK, 'Quarterback' on 3..."


After 46 hours, equally split between solemn, peaceful reflection and meticulously skinning sockeye salmon amongst the Yup'ik people of Nushagak Bay in southwestern Alaska, I'm finally ready to discuss Sunday's historic ball tuck between the Colts and Jets.

Now I've always been told to let your extreme emotions subside before you write or say anything you may regret later (which was hammered home a few years ago with an ill-advised letter to a former boss), so after my initial rough draft included the words "fuck", "fucking", and "bullshit" a combined 34,657 times, I decided to take another day off.

I didn't need to.

I feel exactly the same way today as I felt right after the final second ticked off Sunday night. Remember when I went through the scenarios for the Colts season after the Jacksonville game? Here's how they look now:

Scenario A:

Indianapolis wins the Super Bowl with an 18-1 (oddly enough, the same record as the ill-fated 2007 Pats) or 17-2 record. I mean, that's what Polian and Caldwell say is the most important thing, right? To win the Super Bowl?

And yet even if that happens, won't history look at the Colts as the team that could have gone undefeated - but chose not to? I get it that you want to keep Manning and the other big dicks healthy. But isn't 16-0 reason enough to leave them in the game at least long enough to secure a victory? They were this close, with two very winnable games left on the schedule. They were winning in the third quarter. And still, they saw a chance at immortality circling the drain like a wedding ring in the shower and decided it wasn't worth it to reach down and pick it up. Hell, they took the ring off their own finger.

Scenario B:

The Colts get bounced in the second or third round of the playoffs, maybe even the Super Bowl, and this image from Monday's Star is what everyone remembers about this once-historic season:

Is there anything more pathetic than that? Manning obviously wanted to go back in. In Peyton's politically correct, toe-the-company-line world, leaving his helmet on was the loudest act of protest he could muster. And while I do agree that Manning shouldn't have gone back in (that would have made Caldwell look ridiculously stupid instead of ridiculously conservative and short-sighted), I don't think he should have pulled the plug that soon. Get a two score lead.

Yes, if Manning got hurt, Caldwell would be roasted. But if he came out and said, "Look, we've won a Super Bowl, but it's not every day (or decade, even) when an opportunity like this comes around, and we wanted it", wouldn't that be a reasonable excuse? I wanted it. I wanted it bad. I would have understood. I'd be pissed and bitching about Curtis the Menace starting in the playoffs, but I'd understand the logic.

Actually, come to think of it, why did Manning even start the third quarter at all? Or better yet, WHY DID THEY ALL PLAY THE JACKSONVILLE GAME? Everything was wrapped up then, too! Polian and Caldwell basically took Colts fans to dinner and a Ryan Reynolds movie, provided a sensual full-body massage in a candle-lit bathtub, kissed our necks while rubbing our chests, then got a phone call and left us in the hotel room, alone and aroused, for the rest of the night. "Blue" isn't the goofy Colts mascot, it's the shade of balls we all have this week, and will have for the rest of our lives.

Does anyone see a clear-cut winner in those scenarios? Obviously I still want them to win the Super Bowl, but isn't what they did (and more importantly, how they did it) an even bigger distraction than the pursuit of perfection was to begin with? How's morale doing right now? You can't tell me every single guy in that locker room is cool with that decision, at least on the inside. How's momentum (which Polian doesn't believe in)?

I know one thing: San Diego has none of these questions today.

Now? They HAVE to win the Super Bowl. Anything less is a monumental trainwreck of embarrassment.

I will NEVER forgive the Colts for this decision, even if they win their second Super Bowl in four years. Never. When Mike Doss slid off Michael Tuner's shoulder pads, effectively ending the 2005 13-0 campaign with an 80+ yard touchdown run, I felt like I'd been shot. It was devastating. How often does that chance come around?

Well, turns out more frequently than I thought. Now I wish it hadn't.


JETS COACH REX RYAN, BEFORE GETTING THE MEMO THAT A CERTAIN QUOTA OF FOOTBALL HEAD COACHES MUST HAVE ODDLY SHAPEN, OBESE BODIES


AFTER


ONE MORE STUPID RANT

Polian said on his radio show (predictably) that a perfect season was never one of the team's goals after breaking training camp. Caldwell said that too, and Dungy said it before him. Um, why the fuck not? Why ISN'T it a goal to win every game you play in?

And if that Polianspeak bullshit IS true, why would he say the 23-game regular season win streak and most wins in a decade WERE a big deal? So, two dopey records no one's gonna remember tomorrow are a big deal, but immortal 19-0 isn't?

And surely Manning's start streak will continue next week in Buffalo. I bet Wayne and Clark get the receptions they need in that first and only drive by the first-team. But why? Isn't there just as good of a chance of them getting hurt in that series as there was in the eighth series against the Jets?

Was Polian afraid of the Steelers making the playoffs? Was Rex Ryan and Jim Caldwell old drinking buddies? Too many questions surrounding a stupid game involving grown men and a ball.

I respect the Patriots going for it in 2007. I did then, and I especially do now. Sure, they lost, but it took a couple fluky things for that to happen. And Brady didn't get hurt, even while throwing it deep in many blowouts. He played all 16 games, and oddly enough, got hurt during the second drive of the first game the following season. You just never know.

But I do know one thing: the Colts blew it, and I will never forgive them for that.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Awards Tuesday


Fake Field Goal Pass 2 is pleased to announce Jonathan Paul Losman as the 2009 recipient of the Kim McQuilken Trophy, awarded annually to the winner of the Active, Backup Quarterback December Madness.

Although Losman did not initially make the field of 56, Oakland Raiders coach Tom Cable saw the promising Losman, fresh off winning whatever the UFL's championship is called with something called the Las Vegas Locomotives, and knew he deserved a shot.

"This kid has just gone through so much," a teary-eyed Cable said following Oakland's surprising 20-19 victory against the Denver Broncos last Sunday. "To play in whatever that one league is called, then to come here to this piece of shit trainwreck, and still have the poise to throw that ball off his front foot for a pathetically futile incompletion (Losman's only attempt of the day) while getting absolutely fucking creamed? I mean, think about that for a second. It took a Charlie Frye concussion for this guy to even play, and one pass told me all I needed to know to realize JaMarcus (Russell) gave us the better chance to win."

"Think about that! JaMarcus Fucking Russell gave us a better chance of winning!" Cable added.

Russell, the number one overall pick in the 2007 NFL Draft, was also the overall number one seed entering the Madness, and a heavy favorite to take the trophy home. But even he realizes greatness when he sees it.

"For J.P. to come in here, sleep during film sessions, waste his athletically gifted body by eating (junk food) and binge drinking, and demanding the coaching staff call him 'Mr. Losman' on top of refusing drills?" Russell said. "I thought I was the leader of this team. No way, man. Not anymore. No way."

Losman, noticeably trembling and fighting back the emotion, stared at the trophy for a good 18 silent minutes following his acceptance speech.

"Yeah, that means a lot," Losman said. "To hear that from JaMarcus, that's...well...that's what playing this game is all about."

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Philosophical Take On Death of the Day

Alright, I just want to make sure we're all on the same page with this.  There is NOTHING inaccurate about the following statement, right?

STILL ALIVE

DEAD

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Video of the Day



My favorite part (aside from the raptor falling on the stairs, then falling again on the floor face-first) is the deflating, defeated tail. Pretty much sums it up.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Don't Take This Seriously. I Don't Want The Cops Coming To My House.

I would say something along the lines of "Wow! Those guys have to quit doing that to us!", or "I don't know if my heart can take this team!", but then again, what's the alternative? Lose to Lord Overthrow, David Garrard? Get stuck on unlucky 13 again? Finish 13-3 after starting 13-0? I'll take the piss-in-my-bloodstream blood pressure, thank you very much. Ask a Tampa fan if they would take these cardio exercises every week.

So, are the 2009 Colts destined for immortality? Well, let's define immortality:

Let's say the Colts go 16-0 only to nosedive in the first round of the playoffs. First of all, don't expect a post the next day if that happens. If that nightmare scenario does come true, the only thing you should expect from FFGP2 is me on the east side of downtown, purchasing every ounce of hard drug I can find, mixing them in a blender, and injecting the liquid death into my neck while freefalling from the top of the Chase Tower. No, really. The police are going to question you, and you'll have a stupid face, saying, "Well, I mean, he did put on his website that he was going to do that exact thing, down to the rusty syringe in his neck, but, I don't know, I thought he was joking! He even put what I would say to you right now, this second. I thought it was a goof!" The badge, not to mention my family, will be very disappointed in your inactivity.

Now let's say the Colts go 16-0 only to nosedive in the AFC Championship Game. If it's to San Diego (again), go ahead and re-run what I just typed. Yep, the thing right up above.

Now let's say they get to 18-0 and lose in the Super Bowl. Big deal, right? That's been done before. No immortalilty there. Hell, if that were to happen again, maybe that would be the new trend in the league: win all of your games except the one that matters most. Maybe a team could do it every three years! And all the joy in watching New England lose that way? Yeah, that would...um...that would all be on us. Not good times. You know what? Let's go ahead and throw The Overdose Leap on this one, too.

Which leaves The Big One: run the table and win the Super Bowl. Sure, sport historians may argue down the road the league was weak this year, with too many shitty teams to count. Maybe that's the real reason we still have two unbeatens heading into Christmas. But you know what? It won't take away the fact that they did it, and it definitely won't take away the glee of shutting Mercury Morris the hell up. This isn't naive college, where a coach gets busted cheating, so the NCAA's response is, "Hey! The punishment? The punishment is...well...those games never happened! Yeah, that's it! We'll say you were never even IN the Final Four!" The trophy would be real, as would my memories when I'm 89 with shit running down my leg, explaining to my grandchildren how much of a beast Robert Mathis was. But really, I don't think anyone could knock that accomplishment in the "parity is good", salary capped NFL.

That's now officially the only acceptable ending to the season: win the fucking Super Bowl. This season is gigantic for the legacy of the Manning-era Colts. If they win? Manning now has two, which is still one less than Brady, but he would have done what Tom Terrific couldn't do in running the gauntlet. In my opinion (which will be unearthed by a future civilization, carved in their version of stone, and worshipped upon), Peyton's the best ever if they win this year.

If they lose? Well, that'll be two seasons in which they started 13-0 or better and didn't win the Super Bowl. Not too many teams on that list. They'll be known as the Atlanta Braves of the 00's, a team that was in it every single year, but every single year (except one) ended in playoff disappointment.

I can't stress enough how important the next month is. What I CAN do is stress other people out with my perpetual pessimism about a 14-0 football team!

P.S.
Peyton and the offense gets a ton of credit around here (and deservedly so), but the players of the game last night were Eric Foster and...


EXHIBIT A - FFGP2, September 22, 2009

Ray Rychleski, Colts Special Teams Coach
"Ok, so Chad, you remember the gameplan for returning kicks, right? What are you gonna do again when you catch the ball?"

Chad Simpson, Colts Kickoff Return Man
"I'm gonna run right into the first group of players I see. I won't look for holes, I'll just run right into them."

Rychleski
"Correct!"

EXHIBIT B - FFGP2, November 25, 2009

"If I make a pick on here, go the other way."


EXHIBIT C - December 17, 2009

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Mobile Addition Edition

I just walked by a man on his computer chatting to a girl whose profile photo was just her gaping vagina and asshole. Truly eye-opening.

Awards Wednesday

Time is bizarre in sports world.

In seventh grade, my friend Andy and I snatched up Kobe Bryant's first signature shoe (via Adidas; I went black model) and loved the shit out of drawing the goofy foot-face mascot rubber keychain that went along with it.

Then this happened:



Approximately nine seconds after Kobe set the trophy from this contest down, I left the mall wearing a gold #8 Los Angeles Lakers jersey, and I ain't talkin' Doug Christie.

Kobe Bryant was 18 years old.

Meanwhile in the Bronx, New York Yankees management and fans were salivating while watching their young shortstop flash the signs of a not-so-distant future's dynastic captain. Now I have never liked the Yankees, nor do I fully respect their built-in financial and locational advantage in the game, but I do respect a player who just has it. And as much as I get tired of hearing cliches tossed so violently they resemble Taylor Lautner's salad, this two-year veteran just had it.

Derek Jeter was 23 years old.


"No, Derek, I swear. As your agent, I'm telling you, just shoot this stupid cover story with him and you can stop pretending to be his friend. This is a one-time thing. What did you think, you'd have to pretend to be his friend 12 years from now or something?"



Now? In the last month of the last year of the 2000's, Derek Jeter is 35 years old and Kobe Bryant 31. Derek Jeter is 35 years old and Kobe Bryant is 31! Both are coming off championship seasons, in which both were legitimate regular season MVP finalists. And above all else, both are the unquestioned leaders of two of the most storied franchises in the history of professional sport.


Look at them there. Kobe hasn't filled in physically, and is trying so hard (deservedly so, he's eighteen years old) to look as cool as fucking possible. But you can still see Kobe 31: 2009 Remix in there a little. To all you boozers out there, take a drink every time Kobe licks his lips during a game or postgame interview. Actually don't. Alcohol poisoning is a very serious issue, and even John Daly's friends would speed away after dumping his liquor-riddled body at a hospital due to the merciless beating that game would inflict.


Jeter has some babyfat in the face, and his fade was already Hall of Fame-caliber. But can't you still see that kid who enjoys New York (and her night-life) and loves to play the game of baseball, even now in 2009 Engaged Derek Jeter? (By the way, anytime Derek Jeter's passion is mentioned, you can't just say "baseball". You have to say "the game of baseball". Blogger notified me of this glaring error when I attempted to publish the post.)


So here's to Kobe Bryant and Derek Jeter, FFGP2's "Athletes of 2009 Who Have Been Playing At A Remarkably High Level Since I Was In Seventh Grade".



THE TANTALIZING, TITILLATING TWENTY-EIGHT


...is coming later this week or early next. Recent developments in Oakland (Charlie Frye! Starting again! Over JaMarcus Russell!) have been woven into the fabric of this prestigious event, and therefore must be carefully examined. Kind of like how the NHL takes some time off in the middle of the season for the Olympic Winter Games.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Are You Ready For The Madness?

Welcome to the FFGP2 Active, Backup Quarterback December Madness! Nice ring, eh? This grueling tournament works in a similar fashion to the NCAA March Madness, except there are 56 "teams" instead of 65. And of course the reward of victory is much greater.

To qualify, you must be an active quarterback (who doesn't start right now) on an NFL team. If you started earlier in the season but now find yourself benched because of ineffectiveness, your team's starter came back from injury, or because Raheem Morris clearly doesn't know what he's doing with his quarterback-by-committee rotation, you will find yourself on this list. And yes, I understand Matt Moore starts right now, but the immortal Delhomme may return to practice this week, so Moore comes here. I have also left out strictly Wildcat quarterbacks who only play a few snaps a game, such as Pat White and Michael Vick, as well as players on injured reserve. (Sorry, Sorgi)

Let the madness begin.



SCOTT ZOLAK DIVISION - Colburn, Idaho


(1) JaMarcus Russell - OAK vs. (14) Brian St. Pierre - ARI

(2) Tavaris Jackson - MIN vs. (13) Caleb Hanie - CHI

(3) David Carr - NYG vs. (12) Mike Reilly - STL

(4) Kevin Kolb - PHI vs. (11) Stephen McGee - DAL

(5) Mark Brunell - NO vs. (10) Curtis Painter - IND

(6) Tyler Thigpen - MIA vs. (9) Brett Ratliff - CLE

(7) Josh Johnson - TB vs. (8) Kevin O'Connell - NYJ


Results:
Russell massacres St. Pierre; Hanie hangs with Jackson, only for the mighty Tavaris to pull away in the final minutes; Carr soundly defeats Reilly; McGee upsets Kolb with a brilliant "slow-it-down" gameplan; Brunell uses veteran savviness to get by Painter; Thigpen trumps Ratliff; O'Connell squeaks by Johnson.

(1) Russell, (2) Jackson, (3) Carr, (5) Brunell, (6) Thigpen, (8) O'Connell, (11) McGee



DAVE KRIEG DIVISION
-
Gandeeville, West Virginia


(1) Derek Anderson - CLE vs. (14) John Parker Wilson - ATL

(2) Rex Grossman - HOU vs. (13) Matt Gutierrez - KC

(3) Kerry Collins - TEN vs. (12) Keith Null - STL

(4) Trent Edwards - BUF vs. (11) Brian Hoyer - NE

(5) Charlie Frye - OAK vs. (10) Jordan Palmer - CIN

(6) Chris Simms - DEN vs. (9) J.T. O'Sullivan - CIN

(7) Luke McCown - JAC vs. (8) Brodie Croyle - KC


Results: Anderson defeats the serial killer in a surprisingly hard-fought battle; Grossman shows Gutierrez the meaning of the word "pain"; Collins gleefully stomps Null; Edwards goes to OT to defeat young upstart Hoyer; Palmer whips a helpless Frye; O'Sullivan methodically carves up Simms; McCown is the last one standing in a particularly brutal matchup with Croyle.

(1) Anderson, (2) Grossman, (3) Collins, (4) Edwards, (7) McCown, (9) O'Sullivan, (10) Palmer



STEVE STENSTROM DIVISION - Dubbs, Mississippi


(1) Kyle Boller - STL vs. (14) Mike Teel - SEA

(2) Sage Rosenfels - MIN vs. (13) Tom Brandstater - DEN

(3) Jon Kitna - DAL vs. (12) Matt Flynn - GB

(4) A.J. Feeley - CAR vs. (11) John Beck - BAL

(5) Shaun Hill - SF vs. (10) Charlie Whitehurst - SD

(6) Chris Redman - ATL vs. (9) Brian Brohm - BUF

(7) Dennis Dixon - PIT vs. (8) Todd Collins - WAS


Results: Boller dissects Teel like a surgeon; down goes Rosenfels! Brandstater could not be contained!; Kitna handles Flynn; Feeley humiliates Beck; Hill devours Whitehurst; Brohm upends Redman; Dixon scrapes by Collins.

(1) Boller, (3) Kitna, (4) Feeley, (5) Hill, (7) Dixon, (9) Brohm, (13) Brandstater





STAN GELBAUGH DIVISION - Marengo, Wisconsin


(1) Dan Orlovsky - HOU vs. (14) Richard Bartel - WAS

(2) Daunte Culpepper - DET vs. (13) Rudy Carpenter - TB

(3) Billy Volek - SD vs. (12) Nate Davis - SF

(4) Seneca Wallace - SEA vs. (11) Erik Ainge - NYJ

(5) Matt Leinart - ARI vs. (10) Drew Stanton - DET

(6) Matt Moore - CAR vs. (9) Troy Smith - BAL

(7) Charlie Batch - PIT vs. (8) Kellen Clemens - NYJ


Results: Orlovsky dismantles Bartel; Carpenter retires mid-match against Culpepper; Volek defeats Davis in a shootout; Ainge beats Wallace at the buzzer; Stanton kept coming and coming until Leinart shriveled; Smith hands Moore a loss; Batch teaches Clemens a thing or two.

(1) Orlovsky, (2) Culpepper, (3) Volek, (7) Batch, (9) Smith, (10) Stanton, (11) Ainge


Coming tomorrow...
THE TITILLATING TWENTY-EIGHT

Monday, December 14, 2009

Ho Ho 13-And-O (Sports Section Selected Title)

Indianapolis Colts coach Jim Caldwell, seen here teaching three-time MVP Peyton Manning the invaluable "make your khakis hug the outline of your dick" offensive formation.

Yes! Yes! Yes! The starters are playing!

Anyone else already seeing the Polian "hey, we said they would play. Is the first drive of the game not playing?" loophole? The "hey, winning every single game was never one of our goals when we broke camp" rhetoric? Let's hope not. This is absolutely the right thing to do for this team, this season.

Go for it.


THE PHOTO SHOOT OF PRESIDENT ZACHARY TAYLOR, HIS VICE PRESIDENT MILLARD FILLMORE, AND SOON-TO-DIE JOHN C. CALHOUN




Photographer
Mr. Fucking President! Talk about a portrait! Very, very distinguished, sir. The tie? The buttons? Sure, those were expected. But the stern, thoughtful window into your soul?


Zachary Taylor

Thank you, young man. That's awfully kind. It's a beautiful photograph.


Photographer

The definition of elegance, Mr. President.


Photographer's Assistant

I believe Vice President Fillmore is next.




Photographer
Watch out, puss-say! It's Mil-lard Fill-more!


Millard Fillmore
(Laughing) Cut it out, now. You for real?


Photographer
I have to put half my body under sweltering black tarp in order to shoot this ever so crude photograph. Why would I lie?

Millard Fillmore
Yeah? The ladies gonna like that I'm sitting down?


Photographer's Assistant
I believe, um, former Vice President John C. Calhoun is next.




Photographer

Hole-lee shit. Alright, well...um...say, John? What do you say we go ahead and do that one again? Just totally start over! Now, if you'd just clasp your hands...

John C. Calhoun
What? Why? That's a fantastically realistic portrait of me.

Photographer

An artist's eyes are required to catch this fatal flaw, I'm afraid.

John C. Calhoun
Sitting still there was a very tiresome process, one I would rather not endure again...

Photographer
No, no. I...you know, the...the background's shit. You know? It's shit. It's like, totally fucking... splotchy black. Who wants splotchy black? Powerful black, more like it! And what do you say to that "look directly at the camera" thing we talked about?

John C. Calhoun
I know. It's just Zach tried the "slightly down and to the right" thing. Thought I'd throw my own little thing in there. Calhounize it a little, you know?


Photographer
Sure thing. Your left eye certainly is down and to the left. Cool if I leave this one out of my portfolio?



THE "WOW, AT WHAT LIBRARY DO YOU TYPE THIS AT?" CONVERSATION OF THE NIGHT


Woman On Facebook, Who's Been On Her Phone Three Times

Hey, how do you spell Lindsay? Like the boy's name?


Unbelievably Stupid Woman Breathing Distractingly Loud Through Her Nose Sitting Right Next To Me, Unaware I'm Typing About Her This Very Second, On Internet Fishing Game

Shit, I don't know. I quit keepin' track of shit like that! Who cares? (Laughing)


Woman On Facebook, Who's Been On Her Phone Three Times

(Laughing) I know!



YET ANOTHER FORMAL APOLOGY

Sorry, not a lot of time today, and certainly not a lot of sports. I'm a creature of habit on Sundays, and my stupid superstitions were interrupted, but will be back in full force Thursday night.

Like you didn't prefer reading about 19th century photography.

(At this point, I had saved and published the blog. Then I heard this...)

Woman On Facebook, Who's Been On Her Phone Three Times

You have kids?

Unbelievably Stupid Woman Breathing Distractingly Loud Through Her Nose Sitting Right Next To Me, Unaware I'm Typing About Her This Very Second, On Internet Fishing Game

(EXTREMELY put-off sigh) Yeah. I been pregnant five times. I tell you what, they ain't nothin' but a pain in the ass.

Say it with me now: Hooray for the human race!

Friday, December 11, 2009

Thursday, December 10, 2009

On This Day In Sports History...

When: The early 1930's MLB Winter Meetings in French Lick, IN


Luckily, FFGP2 had a futuristic recording device in MLB commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis's private booth during the meetings, capturing the historic moment on tape. The following is the transcript of said recording:


Kenesaw Mountain Landis: Can someone remind me again why the fuck we're in French Lick, Indiana? Who's idea was it to come here? Maclin, was it yours? Was it your preposterous idea? I could piss on this idea.


Maclin: Here, here. It was certainly my idea, and a grand one at that.


Landis: Care to extrapolate on that one there, Mac? Just a little? I had never heard of this backwater, inbred place before. Barely heard of Indianapolis!


MacArthur: I say, isn't French Lick the home of Larry Bird?


Landis: Yeah, Mac-fucking-Arthur! But this is the early '30s!


(Brief pause - a maid drops a pan in the background)


MacArthur: Not following.


Landis: Bird's not alive yet, you fucking loser!



Did this mother fucker just say French Lick?



MacArthur: Oh. Of course.


Unknown Voice: There's a casino in French Lick! And a Springs Resort! And...


Landis: Did you look up French Lick on the internet? You can't do that! It's the 1930's, remember? You can't fucking do that! Oh, God! We're stuck here! Are we not stuck here?


Unknown Voice: Well I'll-be-damned. Well I'll-be-good-goddamned. Say, Kenny...what the hell are we doing in French Lick, Indiana?



I KNOW this mother fucker did NOT just say French Lick.



Maclin: Ah, take it easy there, KML. It's not so bad. We're only here for a few weeks. Surely there's time to backgammon, or go horseback riding, perhaps catch a gangster film.


Unknown Voice: I've heard the women here give mouth AND cunny for a dime! Throw in a couple pennies and they'll shine your shoes!


Landis: Yeah, I've heard that, too. It doesn't change the fact that you've all let me down. Remember? Last year? I said somewhere warm. Somewhere south. Somewhere I could locate on a map, even a map of Indiana.



He did! That mother fucker DID just say French Lick!



Landis: (Apparently on the phone) Landis speaking.

Hi, honey. Yes, I'm here.

At the winter baseball meetings.

French Lick.

No. French Lick, Indiana.

I swear it's a true place. It's south of...

Honey, I swear I'm not seeing her again! I tell you, I'm in French Lick, Indiana! Mac...
Maclin, will you please tell her we're in French Lick, Indiana?

What do you mean Maclin was having sex with the same prostitute, so why would he tell the truth? I'm telling...
Honey, it's a real place! Get out the map!

Please don't call the lawyer! I'm not chasing skirts, honey! Honest!

(Camera pans up)

FRENNNNNNNNNNNNNNCH LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!!!!!!!


Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Undercovering The Overcoveraged

Are you guys watching the same ridiculous movie I am? You know, the one where the tennis player and the golfer are the most talked-about, controversial athletes of the year? I know, right! Like anybody's gonna believe that!


Really? This is where we've come to? A sex-addicted golfer and meth-head tennis player? Is this the intro to Sportscenter or a lazy SNL skit written by Finesse Mitchell?

And if we've learned anything about sports in 2008-2009, isn't it that drugs don't hinder your performance at all?

1. Michael Phelps (Swimming) - Marijuana - 8 Gold Medals

2. Tim Lincecum (Baseball) - Marijuana - 2 NL Cy Youngs

3. Andre Agassi (Tennis) - Crystal Meth - 60 Career Titles

4. Tiger Woods (Golf) - Sex on Ambien - 14 Major Titles

5. Allegedly 80% of the NBA (Basketball) - Marijuana - 62 NBA Championships

6. Grady Sizemore (Baseball) - Semen - Loose Rectum


One is a joke. A sad, depressing joke.

(Of course the joke is that while Agassi was on meth, he was a terrible tennis player. Therefore, he doesn't count.)

So start giving those little-leaguers pot, parents! Teach those tykes how to fuck on Ambien! They'll make you millions!

And are we really that surprised at Tiger? If you looked like this in 1994 and had no money, compared to this in 2009 with a billion dollars, you don't think your ass roster would improve significantly? He's the kid that got picked on his whole life, then could suddenly point at three beautiful women, saying, "You, you, aaaaaaand you" and they'd follow him to the clubhouse bathroom. I'm not defending it, but it's easy for a person to judge what's right and wrong when they'll NEVER be in Tiger's situation.

And do we really need the 911 call from "we don't know, it's either Elin or her sister" to lead Sportscenter? Do we REALLY need the footage of Tiger's mother-in-law on a stretcher being wheeled out of the ambulance into the hospital? For stomach pains?

You know when the best part of this whole thing was? Right after the accident. A friend and I sent emails back and forth, speculating on what really happened. That was the best part because you knew once the stories got out, ESPN and TMZ wouldn't shut the hell up about it. Imagining a little more is always better than getting too much.

I'm sorry to waste your time with yet another Tiger story, it's just over the top and annoying. But of course I'll keep looking at the pictures.


And now, a new segment called...
PEOPLE ARE TALKING
(Unreal conversations I have encountered in the past week)


Colt Fan #1
I'm kinda worried. Are you?

Colt Fan #2
Yeah, I'm pretty worried. Tennessee's played pretty good lately.

Colt Fan #1
What are you are on The Worried Scale?

Colt Fan #2

Probably about a six and a half.

Colt Fan #1
Out of ten?

Colt Fan #2
Out of seven.

Colt Fan #1
Oh, OK! I was gonna say, "That's not very worried!"


Who goes to seven? Does anyone reading this rank from 1-7? On anything?


LORD OF THE DANCE


Woman
Yeah, I've got a private lunch in (NAME WITHELD)'s office at 1 pm. Maybe I could tapdance for him? It is a bit of a holiday party.


Man
I can tap. Pretty good, actually. Classically trained.


Woman
Yeah? Can you tap to any Christmas songs?


Man
I only know around 450-500 songs, but actually, like, 90% of them are Christmas songs.


Woman
Wow! No kidding? Would you want to join me on something?


Man
Sure! What songs did you have in mind?


Woman
Well, maybe, like, "Little Drummer Boy"?


Man
(The "No, I don't know that one" face)


Woman
OK. How about, um, "Jingle Bells"?


Man
(Nervous giggling)
Sorry.


Woman
"Jingle Bell Rock"?


Man
I have to be honest, most of the Christmas songs I know aren't traditional American Christmas songs. They're German Christmas songs.


Woman
Like "O Tanenbaum"?


Man
("No, I don't know that one" face)



And that was all I heard.



QUOTES OF THE WEEK


"Ever since I quit drinkin' 12 years ago, I started doin' crossword puzzles." ~ Minnesota Vikings quarterback Brett Favre, to Cris Collinsworth, completely taken out of context.


"BUHHHHHHLLLL-SHIT! BUHHHHHHLLLL-SHIT!" ~ The classiest fan in the history of sport. The Bullshit Guy, man who starts the "Bullshit" chant towards the officials in a packed stadium full of children, as well as people that most certainly do not share, nor come close to sharing, his sensibilities.



"If I play for the Giants, or if I play for Buffalo, or if I play for anybody, my hatred for the Cowboys will remain the same because as a kid I just never liked the Cowboys. No one ever did anything to me. It's just that I took the team that a lot of people loved and that was the one I disliked."



"I'm not a fan of Tony Romo. I don't think he's that good a passer, to be honest with you."


"I hate the Cowboys with a bloody passion."


~ all by New York Giants running back Brandon Jacobs



"My girl cheated on me. I don't care about the past, I care about the present. I don't care who she's been with, she's with ME now!" ~ Guy talking out loud in the library, who's already suffered two nosebleeds in the last fifteen minutes


"Now it is YOU who gets FUCKED!" ~ My old neighbor (in a fit of rage) on the phone with his girlfriend, overheard through my window. Sorry, just reminded me of it. Hi-fucking-larious.


NO ASSEMBLY REQUIRED


Ok, come on now. That's not fair. The millions (and millions) of loyal followers deserve better. They come here expecting more.



Oh, please. That's hardly any better. You took yesterday off after promising one NBA coach a week. Don't you feel lazy? Deceitful?



There you go.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Mark Schlereth, Swami


Sure, I woke up a little nervous Sunday morning. After all, the Colts hadn't played well as of late (we were told) and the Titans were hotter than Sally Field in Mrs. Doubtfire (No one else? Just me?). On top of that, it was a division game, so the cliche says you throw all logic out the window.

Then something happened. Chris Berman and the Sunday NFL Countdown gang (which reminds me of a mid-90's corporate "soul" group) introduced Martina McBride to sing a song about how the Titans were going to beat the Colts. I can't find the video anywhere, nor the lyrics, and for good reason. The lyrics were cheesy guff about how Manning was real good, but wouldn't be good enough to win the game, like a child wrote the song and didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

As soon as the segment ended (with Berman raving about the song, complete with under-the-table-flogging, saying it would be a hit in Nashville if the Titans pulled out the W), I let out an exhale of relief. For it was at that moment I knew the Colts would surely win by two scores. Karma, just like victory, never has Martina McBride on her side.


Everybody ready for panels and panels of "experts" to pick the Broncos to win in Indy this weekend?

One of the main reasons I started this website (other than to vigorously stroke my ego, the far-and-away number one reason) was to prove how random sports really are. People watch them, bet on them, study them, etc., so naturally, they become "experts" on them. Guess what? You'll never become an expert on sports. Ever.

Take the NBA. The Dallas Mavericks (a perennial "good enough to make the second round of the playoffs" team) in the last four weeks have beaten San Antonio, Houston (by 31), and a bunch of bad teams. Makes sense, right? Sure, until you factor in losses to dreadful Golden State, Cleveland (a respectable loss), and a pathetic trouncing at the hands of putrid Memphis (by 17). There's just no rhyme or reason to that league. None. The great teams will win, and normally beat the teams they're supposed to, but other than that, night in and night out, it's a free-for-all.

Now the NFL. During New England's 2001-2004 dominant stretch, I remember "experts" constantly picking every other team to win the AFC East. Everybody wanted to be The Man who predicted the Patriot downfall (Mark Schlereth is the king of trying to be The Man), whether it was in overall standings or on a game-by-game basis. It got annoying, even as a Colt fan. "Why aren't they picking the Pats? Of course they're going to win," I'd think.

Same thing has happened to the Colts as of late. Do you remember all the pundits' AFC South preseason predictions this season? Or the past five years? The Texans are so sexy! The Jaguars have all the pieces this year! The Titans are going to run away with it! In no other job I know of can you be wrong (only on national television or print, though, so small potatoes) so many times, over and over again, and face no repercussions. It's remarkable.

Go ahead, guys. Keep picking the never-been-to-the-playoffs Texans to win the division. Lord knows my Sacramento Kings pick could use a little shine.

THE "YOU KNOW HOW STUPID THOSE FORWARDED EMAILS ARE WITH PETITIONS? THE ONES THAT DON'T MATTER IN THE SLIGHTEST IN THE LONG RUN? LET'S START ONE OF OUR OWN: NBA COACHES MUST WEAR TEAM UNIFORMS ON THE SIDELINES."

Every day this week will be a new coach.

FFG, we runnin' this blog shit.

Monday, December 7, 2009

Immaturity! Read All About It!



It's Week 14 again, so obviously we're due for another edition of...

WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT THE NFL!

We know that...

Bruce Gradkowski threw for more touchdowns (3) in the fourth quarter against the defending Super Bowl Champions (in a WIN, on THEIR field) than JaMarcus Russell has all year long (2)

Dolphins coach Tony Sparano scouted a Bill Belichick defense for an entire week and, with a straight face, drew up a gameplan where Chad Henne would throw the ball 52 times...and it worked

Vikings coach Brad Childress decided to let a 40-year old arm throw the ball 45 times, while his 24-year old running back (in the absolute peak of physical perfection) should only carry the ball 13 times against Arizona...and it didn't work

Norv Turner can't cover a 13.5 point spread against the Browns, even when spotted a 27-7 lead at the beginning of the fourth quarter (more on him in a second)

People that live in Kansas City have to watch the Chiefs and Royals, which is the equivalent of getting your shirt caught in a conveyor belt machine, leaving you seconds to choose between severing your arm at the wrist or elbow to escape

The Tampa Bay Buccaneers saw Jake Delhomme was out, had to immediately think, "Wait, so you mean someone that's even worse than him is going to start? AND DeAngelo Williams is going to be out?" and still lost the game

Eric Mangini, Tom Cable, Jim Zorn, and The Kubester are all DEFINITELY fired the second their team's season is done, unless some dumb owner gets sucked in by late season improvement (in Cable and Zorn's situation)

Wade Phillips and Norv Turner are fired if they don't right the ship in the later months and playoffs

And the Colts won again.

It's always nice to have a constant, right?


HOW TO TELL TOM COUGHLIN YOU KNOCKED HIS DAUGHTER UP

So...um, Tom. Well, you know how your daughter and I have been seeing each other for a couple months now?

Yeah, well...well, you see...listen, I know I'm not all that financially responsible right now. But I have ideas. Big ideas. And your daughter fits in with those ideas, especially now...because...well...

Well, you have a beautiful daughter, Mr. Coughlin. Just beautiful. And, well...jeez...well, do you remember when we went to go see THE BLIND SIDE at the drive-in? I think it was...yeah, it was last Thursday night. Ring a bell? Do you remember that? I think you were doing your X's and O's thing...

Well, you know...I kinda sorta...um...man, that Wade Phillips sure is one fat faggot, huh?


REX GROSSMAN'S CAREER SUMMED UP BY A BOX SCORE

(Sorry it's not straighter. My excitement was off the charts.)

SPEAKING OF HILARIOUS BOX SCORES...

Why is no one making a bigger deal about John Kasay's 97-yard field goal?


THE MOST AWKWARD COMMERCIAL TO FILM IN COMMERCIAL FILMING HISTORY

Jared: Hey, guys! Wanna go get a drink after this?

Michael Strahan and Justin Tuck: Nah, Jared. Just make sure our Subway checks get delivered to our house, alright?


ANYONE ELSE?

Think this happens 80 times every time the Colts and Titans play? As Dan pointed out, it seems like the Colts lose their players in practice all the time, while the Titans save their injuries for games against us.

Fire your trainers, for God's sake. It's been ridiculous for six years.


WHAT'S GOING ON IN THIS PICTURE?


A. Brett Favre is reading Sage Rosenfels and Tavaris Jackson "The Night Before Christmas", only because they studied extra-hard in the film room this week

B. Brett Favre is sorting through the game program, trying to find "2" and "7" under "Minnesota" so he can properly address the two men beside him wearing jerseys by their Christian names


C. Brett Favre is searching the menu for which of the pictured toys is included with this week's Big Kid's Meal, ultimately deciding what the other two will eat


D. Sage Rosenfels and Tavaris Jackson, two NFL quarterbacks currently with the Minnesota Vikings, are hanging out with some guy

IMMATURE FUN WITH PAINT


GROW UP, COLLINSWORTH


SHHHH, YOU'LL WAKE JAMES BROWN

HEY, YOU WOKE HIM!