It’s a good thing he looks so awesome in street clothes!
I felt like Veronica Corningstone entering the news director’s office, demanding a real story to cover, only to be told by a mysoginystic boss (played here by Ben Van Iten) that I’d be covering a cat fashion show. I informed Ben that this was “grade-A baloney” and he just cackled and threw an empty bottle of Jim Beam at me.
Moving forward, in case you haven’t heard, 49ers running back Brandon Jacobs has been benched for the remainder of the season, much to the non-detriment of his team. Continue reading
“Coach, I can kick it this way or this way…which one do you want?”
Mentally, kickers are like golfers. And if you’ve ever golfed, you know the psychologically damaging effects of sending a dead-center missile off the tee on a drive, only to follow it up by taking a three-pound beaver pelt out of the pristine fairway on your very next swing. As molten lava shoots from your eye sockets, something deep inside says “It’s all downhill from here, dude.” Is that what happened to Mason Crosby?
Six weeks ago, the Packers’ kicker sent a 50-yard attempt roughly three solar systems west of the goalposts in what could have been a game-tying score against the Indianapolis Colts. Fast-forward to the present and Crosby, one of the NFL’s most dead-to-rights kickers over the last five years, has amazingly shanked seven out of his last 13 attempts. Last Sunday in Detroit, another 50-yard attempt tailed right, but was nullified by a last-second Lions timeout. Responding to his shot at redemption, Crosby overcompensated and sent his next boot further left than a Rachel Maddow fanpage. Continue reading
“KNEEL BEFORE ZOD…BECAUSE ZOD WANTS THAT BALL.”
Hey, guess what players, coaches, and fans are riled up about now? A truly disgraceful act that I loathe to even put into writing. Here it goes: some football players got knocked down on a football play. It’s heinous, I know. That’s literally what happened on the final play of the Giants/Bucs game Sunday, when New York attempted to take a knee and Tampa tried to jump the ball and disrupt the snap. It got Tom Coughlin shouting in another coach’s face, and the situation has brought out such verbiage as “disgraceful,” “cheap,” “dangerous,” etc etc. from various sources. Continue reading
“Hmmm, didn’t see that one coming.”
As I’m typing this, I bet Roger Goodell is slapping skinny interns around his office. Meanwhile, NFLPA reps are busy posting LOLcat pictures all over the Commish’s Facebook page. With the player-related Bounty Gate suspensions overturned (albeit temporarily), Goodell’s gotten the first big rebuke of his tenure as the Boss. Obviously, this is great news for the Saints as well as the Browns (and a massive victory for the NFLPA). Anthony Hargrove is probably pissed considering that had the Packers known he’d be available for week one, they might not have cut him and he might not have spent the last two weeks on his couch crying into giant bowls of Lucky Charms.
To be brief about what went down, today a three-judge panel ruled not that Goodell was out of order by suspending players in the first place, but that he did not have the right as Commissioner to hear and rule on the their appeals. In short, he bit off more than he could chew and he was called out on it. It will be interesting to see how Goodell reacts after being shown up in front of the entire league and its fan base. Judging by his track record, he’ll probably just turn into even more of a hard-ass. Tomorrow morning he’ll be on the phone with Pacman Jones, telling him he’s suspended for the remainder of the year on suspicions of Thoughtcrime.
“You got Jesus for your flex in the fifth? Nice.”
If you play fantasy, by now your lineup(s) are locked and loaded. You have carefully scraped the Cheeto dust from beneath your nails to make room for even more Cheeto dust. It’s a legit argument that any person capable of reading a top-200 sheet can assemble a competent fantasy team, so that means the only way to really set yourself apart is by picking a sweet team name. Continue reading