.


.

Show me, don't tell me, You've figured out the score...Show me, don't tell me, I've heard it all before...Show me, don't tell me, I don't care what you say...Show me, don't tell me...You can twist perceptions, Reality won't budge...You can raise objections, I will be the judge...And the jury...I'll give it due reflection, Watching from the fence...Give the jury direction, Based on the evidence...I, the jury...Show, Don't tell

Oct 26, 2005

Doin' it for the idiots (and the two-fisted hummers)


I’ve been writing this weekly Matchup deal for over three years now and this week marks the first time that I sit here with absolutely no idea what to write about. Okay, that’s a lie. Every week, I sit here without a clue, but only for a minute or two and then something comes to me. But tonight…….nothin’. Nada. Zip. I’m not sure why that is. I guess I just haven’t been inspired by anything. Or maybe I’m just tired from working too much. Maybe it’s that Mama Squintz hasn’t been returning any of my calls. I don’t really know.

I do know that inspiration’s a funny thing. It can come from something as simple as a wink from a pretty girl, or a baby’s smile, or a beautiful sunset, or a nice, thick wad of cash, or even a large bag of marijuana with a side order of Cheetos. But I think that whatever it is, you have to be open to the inspiration for it to have any effect on you. It’s kinda like how they say “only those who are willing to be hypnotized can be hypnotized”. Maybe I’m just not in the right state of mind to be inspired right now. That can happen, right? I hear that Billy Joel, one of the great songwriters of the last forty years, hasn’t been able to write any music since 9-11. Once the funniest man on the planet, Eddie Murphy, hasn’t made anyone laugh since he got filthy rich and stopped being filthy funny. Even arguably the greatest golfer ever, Tiger Woods, hasn’t played a truly inspired round since he started plunking his putter into that Swedish girl’s yodel hole. And if it can happen to those kind of talents, it can surely happen to shmoes like us, right?

It can also happen to football teams. Losing your collective inspiration, your “fire”, is always a guaranteed one-way ticket to a losing season. Hell, why do you think coaches are so big on pre-game, halftime, and post-game speeches? They don’t want that fire to burn out. Neither do the players (Well, unless you’re Ron Mexico. In that case, you want anything that will stop the burning). That’s why you see fuck farmers like Ray Lewis yipping and yapping constantly. He’s simply trying to inspire his fellow inmates through the subtle art of barking like a crazed felon carrying a six-inch shank and a burdensome coke habit. And you know what? It usually works. Some players find inspiration from the remarks of their opponents. You don’t think Terell Owens inspires some people? What about Chad Johnson? You’re damn right, they do. Some players find their inspiration from God, some find it from within, and some players who reside in the Minneapolis-St.Paul area find it on a yacht full of high-priced whores. (By the way, who knew you could even find a high-priced whore in Minnesota? Seriously.)

Anyway, the point is, inspiration comes in all shapes, sizes, and prison sentences. The way I see it, you’ve just got to find what inspires you and stick with it while it lasts. I’m currently looking for a new form of inspiration, or two. Until I can find one, I’ll just do it for you twelve idiots. And for the hell of it. Yep, for you twelve idiots and the hell of it. Oh, and also for my cousin Joe who logs in sometimes. You twelve idiots, the hell of it, and my cousin Joe………And maybe also for the excuse to look pick out the Cheerleaders of the Week….And maybe also as a quick diversion from work. Okay, I’ll keep doing it for you twelve idiots, the hell of it, my cousin Joe, the cheerleaders, and to avoid work. And maybe also for the sexual favors I get from Mama Squintz……Let’s see, so I’m doing it for you twelve idiots, the hell of it, Joe, cheerleaders, to avoid work, and two-fisted hummers from Mama S. Okay. So, that’s a pretty good list. If one of you could find your way to sending me a case of Bud Select and a can of honey-roasted peanuts, that, along with the other crap should keep me going through at least Week 12. And now that I’m semi pumped-up, here are the Week 8 Matchups......


Georgia at Florida-
For a while now, this has been billed as The World's Largest Cocktail Party. Strange, considering I don't think anyone down South would ever be caught dead at an actual cocktail party. The World's Largest Cocktail Party should be between teams like Connecticut and Boston College, right? This beer & barbecue blowout should be called something more appropriate, like The World's Largest Hillbilly Hooch Festival or The Moonshine Mixer, or, my personal favorite, Rednecks Gone Wild .


Oklahoma at Nebraska-
When was the last time these two proud programs were both out of the Top 25 at the same time? Uh, yesterday.
The Sooners. The Huskers. The Battle for middle of the pack in the Big 12, this Saturday, only on ABC!


Cardinals at Cowboys-
So let me get this straight- the real Drew Bledsoe finally stood up last week and the kicker gets the ax? I sure hope for the punter's sake that Drew doesn't throw any more ill-timed picks this week.


Bears at Lions-
Winner of this one will sit atop the NFC Central........and still suck.


Browns at Texans-
Am I wrong, or does the expression "now or never" come to mind for the Texans here? If they lose at home to the Browns, I say we fly in the Rice Owls for an exhibition game, you know, just for shits & giggles.


Packers at Bengals-
Who Dey! Who Dey! Who Dey think just exposed dem Bengals?!
I've got just three words to say about last week. Fuck. Me. Sideways.
Hey, but the good news is that Brett Fav-ruh comes to town with just one healthy receiver, no halfback, and a real nasty painkiller hangover.


Jaguars at Rams-
Uh, not to alarm anyone, but do you think someone should put Marshall Faulk's face on a milk carton soon?


Vikings at Panthers-
The Mike Tice Farewell Tour with special guest The Nordic Orgy Yacht Club is rolling into Carolina this weekend. Get your tickets now at any Ticketmaster location!


Raiders at Titans-
If it wasn't for the Texans-Browns extravaganza this would have Don Criqui's name written all over it.


Redskins at Giants-
I finally got the terms of Mark Brunell's deal with the devil. Brunell gets two more solid seasons in return for his youngest child, his second-born male grandchild, and, of course, his soul.


Chiefs at Chargers-
Poor Marty. He's got one of the top three or four teams in the AFC but is staring at a 3-4 record. He must feel like dog crap. Geez, just imagine how much worse he'd feel if he knew that his daughter got nailed by my old college roommate.
(Nope, still not tired of that one.)

Dolphins at Saints (in Baton Rouge)-
Ricky Williams goes home!
Sort of.
I wonder if his dealer relocated to Baton Rouge, too.


Eagles at Broncos-
Did you happen to catch T.O.'s latest egotistical touchdown moment? Wow, acting like a waiter- what a stretch! Who knew he had such range as an actor/entertainer? What's next, a diving catch followed by two minutes miming the final scene of My Dinner With Andre?


Bucs at Niners-
The Bucs are coming off of a bye week to face the hapless (yes, I'm grinning) Niners. Two weeks to prepare for the Niners? Isn't that like having two weeks to prepare for the GED? Hang on, let me go ask Mama Squintz.


Bills at Patriots-
Teddy Bruschi's back. Good for him. Probably the feel-good story of the season. Um, would it be at all inappropriate for the scoreboard operator to play a couple bars of Billy Squire's "The Stroke" when Teddy makes his first tackle? Okay, okay, just asking.


(Monday Night) Ravens at Steelers-
Over/Under on the number of times I wish death or dismemberment upon Hines Ward, Jerome Bettis, Ray Lewis, and Brian Billick combined during this one: 375.
Over/Under on the number of times I envision John Madden in a two-piece red mesh swimsuit: 4
Over/Under on the number of times I envision Michelle Tafoya in a two-piece red mesh swimsuit during this game: 2

No comments: