James Harrison Has Sand In His Panties

Hey, James Harrison. The rules apply to you, too.

As much as I love Steelers football, either be a professional or retire already.







Image via Wikimedia Commons

Ask Not For Whom The Football Tolls

When did I become the guy who stays up past midnight to watch both halves of a Monday Night Football double-header, knowing my alarm goes off a 6?

Arrrrrrrr....

Muchostinko (85 Bengals) gets fined! To Bengals fans!!!!

Muchostinko got fined, for jokingly bribing the referee at the Bengals vs. Ravens game, so the Steelers get an easy win at week 10 of the National Football League (NFL).

He got fined $20,000 , which is A LOT of money!!!!

Go Steelers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Image via Bearman2007's photostream on flickr

This Is Why I Can't Play Pro Football

Tennessee receiver Justin Gage has several broken transverse process bones in his lower back, and he is unlikely to play Sunday against Buffalo.

Oh - and I'm old, fat, and slow.

Via CNNSi

Brett Favre - A Lonely Man?

I admit that when Brett Favre came out of retirement the first time, I was completely on board with those who thought the former Packer would become a charter member of the Emmitt Smith - Joe Namath fraternity of athletes who just didn't know when to quit.

As Demian Kendall observes in the opening paragraphs of his Spice Today article, The Lonely Legend:

Brett Favre is like the kid who graduated from high school but still shows up at all the parties. He’s the NFL’s version of David Wooderson from Dazed and Confused, and even though his graying five o’clock shadow causes him to stick out on the sidelines, he still maintains an aura of “cool” that goes unmatched by his peers.

Fully expecting another Favre-bashing, I decided to see where Kendall was headed. It turns out that Kendall believes Favre's approach is perhaps one of the last true demonstrations of pure football commitment.

By way of example, Kendall points to the Fox Sports Favre Cam, a kitschy bit of technology that provides mind-numbing coverage of the quarterback that's often so mundane that even the most ardent of fans would look for shards of broken beer bottles with which to slit their wrists to find a measure of sweet release.

Kendall opines that watching the Favre Cam helps him understand the differences between the current Viking QB and his peers. While other signal callers are engaged with their teams on the sidelines, planning strategy or tweaking routes, Favre is strangely detached and alone, save the occasional back slap or burst of supportive clapping. He stands out on the bench like the bright white whiskers on his chin.

Says Kendall:

Brett doesn’t have that anymore. He no longer has the diehard fan base he attracted through his years at Green Bay. He’s on a new team full of players with whom he’s had limited interactions. He is the lonely legend of the NFL, silently observing from the sidelines and waiting for his signal to step on the field.

So what would drive a man like Favre to keep playing if it isn't the camaraderie, the big paycheck, or fan idolization?

Kendall has a viewpoint:

While this may seem disheartening, it’s the truest insight to the psyche of Brett Favre that I’ve ever seen. He isn’t in it for the money anymore. He isn’t in it for the fanfare or the glory of the press. His constant gaze on the football field demonstrates that his ultimate desire and purpose is to simply play football. In an industry dominated by contract negotiations and celebrity antics on and off the field, Favre gives fans a refreshing taste of the old breed of players who played the game simply because it was a part of them that they couldn’t give up.  

We're often disillusioned by pampered sports personalities whose actions seldom live up to their arrogant words, or in some cases, who demonstrate behaviors that surpass anything we can imagine might be bouncing around between their Id, Ego, and Super-ego. 

I learned a long time ago that the most simple explanation is usually the true one. Maybe Favre just lives to play football. 




Image via Wikimedia Commons

Football Quote of the Day

As far as I can see American football is a marathon of budweiser adverts occasionally interrupted by some “talented bloke” chucking a rugby-like ball to some Billy Whizz halfway up the pitch, intent on scoring points for catching it while a couple of beefcakes try to put him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.

Via The League of Ordinary Gentlemen

Rush Limbaugh - Innocent Victim

Oxycontin-shopping, Viagra-popping conservative windbag Rush Limbaugh has been dropped from a group seeking to purchase the St. Louis Rams football franchise.

Vocal opposition to Limbaugh's participation was accelerating among the "are you fucking kidding me?" faction of the human race.

The Checketts group jettisoned Limbaugh in hopes of staying in the race, but leading financial experts were already questioning the business acumen of Dave Checketts, wondering aloud if anyone moronic enough to choose a partner with a history of racially-tinged statements of ignorance would be savvy enough to gain the support of a city and team with a significant African-American population.

Limbaugh, to his credit, wasted no time playing the "victim" card, accepting no responsibility for the consequences of his behaviors and big mouth.

"This is not about the NFL, it's not about the St. Louis Rams, it's not about me. This is about the ongoing effort by the left in this country, wherever you find them, in the media, the Democrat Party, or wherever, to destroy conservatism, to prevent the mainstreaming of anyone who is prominent as a conservative.

"Therefore, this is about the future of the United States of America and what kind of country we're going to have."

I would have thought it was more about the free market and capitalism at work, or perhaps neo-Darwinism. But I could be wrong. After all, I'm a Progressive, determined to send this country into the shitter, one racist broadcaster at a time.

Image via Wikimedia Commons

Youth Flag Football and Today's Politics

Watching my son's team of 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders play flag football this morning, I was struck by the similarity between the game in progress and our current political party styles and struggles.

On the one hand is my son's team, the Killer Bees. Seven lads of differing levels of pre-teen awkwardness, tossed together behind a rookie head coach, playing mostly for the fun of it in a league that stresses teaching fundamentals, sportsmanship, equal opportunity, and a good time.

Opposing them this day were the boys of TNT, somewhat more skilled and athletic, with coaches who seem to take early Saturday morning flag football quite seriously, judging by the way they yelled at their kids and physically moved them into position.

Killer Bees were pretty disorganized, bumping into each other in the backfield, dropping passes, and playing the worst air defense since London circa 1942. But all of the kids kept at it, played with heart and a smile, and managed to score a TD in the first half.

TNT was aggressive, razzle-dazzle football, with most of their plays designed to somehow get the ball into the hands of number 11, obviously their most talented player. In a league where each boy is supposed to get equal playing time at each position, number 11 managed at least half of the carries, throws, or catches.

11 grew more frustrated as the game wore on, as he cut back and forth, chased by these gawky, grinning adolescents, and more often than not number 11 gained minimal yardage before having his flag yanked off. This only served to make the opposing adults coach harder (instead of maybe smarter), and their mistakes grew as it became less about having fun and more about winning.

TNT scored twice, once before halftime and once in the 4th quarter to take the lead 12-6 going into the last six minutes. But still our posse of unpolished youngsters soldiered on, managing to score on a long, arcing pass that caused parents from both sides to hold their breath while awaiting the outcome. Tied at 12-12, our coaches decided to go for the two point conversion, which was successful, putting Killer Bees up 14-12 over TNT with two minutes left.

TNT had one final drive, and they were quite focused (and grumpy), as they missed pass attempts, got tackled for no gain, and generally lost their steam at the time they needed it most. Killer Bees stopped their drive and ran out the clock, taking home a well-deserved victory.

Killer Bees were not the most talented team on the field, nor were they the best organized or managed. But they believed in and supported each other, picked each other up when one of the aggressors from the other side knocked them down, and kept their eye on the prize while doing the best job that they could. The final score showed the winner of the game, and the philosophy.

Now let's go pass us a health care reform bill. What do you say?

Image by Uhuru1701 via flickr

Santa Annoys Steelers Coach

In his weekly press conference, Steelers coach Mike Tomlin was probably already leaning to the Grinch side of things following Sunday's drubbing by the Tennessee Titans.

It was probably a poor decision by local broadcaster Bill DiFabio to reprise his annual visit as Santa, and if he didn't get the hint that he had worn out his welcome via the repeated audible sighs directed his way by Tomlin, perhaps Saint Nick can stuff some situational awareness in Bill's stocking this year.

According to SI.com, Tomlin originally went along with the gag, to the point where he invited DiFabio to the front of the room in Wahoo-burgh. But when Shecky DiFabio went on for over five minutes with a stand-up routine that took shots at the Cowboys and Browns along with cracks directed at his fraternity of broadcasters, Tomlin decided that enough was enough. Yoy!

He even tossed a football to DiFabio, lamenting "If that will get you out of here."

I'm surprised Tomlin didn't pull a "Slinging" Sammy Baugh, when Baugh grew tired of a defensive lineman jawing and taking dirty shots at him, so he instructed his offensive line to let the joker through on the next play.

This was in the days of leather helmets and no face masks, remember.

As soon as the ball was snapped, the defender broke through with a roar and began to gallop directly at Baugh. Baugh remained calm, seemingly looking downfield for an open receiver, and seconds later turned and delivered a perfectly-spiriling rocket right between the eyes of the charging tackle, knocking him out colder than an Alaskan cod.

Between the loss to the Titans and Santa's faux-pas, I would hate to be the Cleve Brownies this Sunday. Umm-HA!