As my brother likes to say; “If it weren’t for the stupid people, the rest of us wouldn’t look so good.” Well ESPN proves once again you don’t have to be talented or even have a half-way good idea to be a contributor to their Pulitzer Prize winning journalistic sport reporting thingy. The newest bile to spew from the pages of BSPN the Magazine was this lovely and touching, racially motivated piece called, “What if Mike Vick were white?” I’ll wait for you to read it again to make sure you got it right. Hmm hm hmmmm. No really. I’m not making this shit up.

This racially motivated turd was written by Toure’. You know the guy who contributes to The Dylan Ratigan Show. The same guy that was a pop culture correspondent for CNN and interviewed such powerhouses as: Kehinde Wiley, Melissa Harris-Perry and Chuck D. Questlove. Still don’t recognize him? Well don’t feel bad, neither did I, or apparently the other 97% of the United States that said “who?” Thanks Google!

What’s the point of this article? I can think of no reason to write such a piece except for wanting to create controversy and possibly get 15 minutes of fame out of it. Hey ESPN! If posing a dumbass question is all that it takes to get paid from you guys, let me bounce a few ideas off of you:

What if Louis Pasteur had been lactose intolerant?
What if Hitler was Jewish?
What if Coach Caldwell could coach?
What if the Pillsbury Doughboy gave Little Debbie a yeast infection?
What if Batman were a hermaphrodite?
What if Peyton Manning were black?

Let’s go a little more in depth into that last one. Let’s say Peyton…aw hell, let’s just call him Payshayawn was a black quarterback. Do you think these sports journalist would still be calling him soft and continue claiming that he couldn’t win the big one and that he was a choke artist? Or do you think he’d be a warrior like Steve McNair or a hero like Donovan McNabb? How many Super Bowls had those two combined for? 0. How many NFL MVP awards were put up by those two? ½. Yeah that’s right the iconic African American quarterbacks combined for a whopping ½ of an MVP award. Peyton has a Super Bowl ring and has 4 MVP trophies at home. Are you telling me Mike Vick hasn’t won a Super Bowl because of the color of his skin? GMAFB. Ok, I’ll admit, maybe buying Mike a couple of pit-bull puppies and giving him the book “The Complete Idiots Guide to Illegal Dog Fighting and Complete Financial Ruin” for his birthday might not have been such a good idea. At least while he was in prison Mike Vick did pick up some valuable skills, like how to make a leather wallet by hand and how to hide money and cigarettes up your rectum so your roommate can’t find them.

The color of his skin has absolutely nothing to do with him not winning a Super Bowl or getting endorsement deals. Would you buy a product just because Mike Vick endorsed it? Well anything besides dog chains and herpes medication I mean. Of course you wouldn’t and neither would most people. Mike Vick’s skin didn’t kill those dogs and make all those stupid decisions. It was his dumb ass brain that did. Oh and for the record, the dogs he killed were all white.

So sayeth the Meanie

I would like to address this to Roger Goodell, DeMaurice Smith, the National Football League Players Association and the NFL organization as a whole. With all due respect “Kiss my ass you whining bunch of overpaid millionaire spoiled self centered bastards!” Ah, I feel better.

The NFL is holding the entire football loving public hostage in their little game of “I don’t have enough ivory back-scratchers”. If they really wanted to get a deal done, it would have been done months ago. They actually released a statement that the lawyers worked late into the night to try and reach a fair compromise between the players and owners. I call bullshit. If you read the entire statement, those poor overworked lawyers had to work all the way till six pm, with breaks only for breakfast, brunch, lunch, cocktails, dinner and after dinner cocktails. Not to mention the 20 minute bathroom breaks every hour. They probably just sat in the conference room playing Call of Duty Black Ops all day with the only decisions being made were to what toppings they wanted to have on their pizzas. All this fake posturing is just a sick attempt at increasing an already staggering market share. They’ve done an excellent job of creating the fear in their fanbase that there might not even be any football this year. Oh my! What are we to do?

I have two words for you about this, “New Coke”. For those of you old enough to remember and those of you that hadn’t drank that portion of your memory away, the Coca-Cola Corporation introduced “New Coke” in 1985 announcing that the old Coke was gone and that New Coke was here to stay. Coke, which was America’s most popular soft drink for almost 100 years, was replaced by a sugary substitute that was a mere shadow of the delicious coca concoction that Dr. Pemberton had invented a century ago. The public was outraged when their beloved drink was taken away! When Coke “gave in” and introduced “Classic Coke” their sales skyrocketed. It’s a play as old as the hills. It’s known in the sales world as “the takeaway”. It’s a way for the greed machine to create even more buzz about their product. When the “lockout” is officially over people will be flying out of their homes to purchase tickets and other NFL related merchandise because by the grace of God the NFL season was miraculously saved from the depths of destruction. Well no not really, the greed machine just decided to turn the money faucet back on.

If you doubt anything I’ve said, just look to the new rule the NFL is implementing this year, a mandatory booth replay review of EVERY scoring play. Really I’m not making this $#!+ up. The NFL claims that by implementing the new rule, coaches won’t have to use their challenges on touchdowns they thought weren’t actually scored. Again I call BS. What this rule is going to do is add 20-30 minutes onto each game. More program time, equals more commercial time which directly translates into more money for the No Free Lunch group.

I love this sport, I have since I was kid, but how much is enough? Most of us don’t go to work, just to go to work. We all want to be compensated for our hard work and our efforts, but when is it all too much? Ask yourself, “What would I do for two million dollars?” The answers I’m sure are wide and varied. Some probably involve the killing of relatives while others are probably as simple as devouring the contents of a full, well used litter box using no hands having only the aid of a plastic lobster bib to keep the feline waste from soiling your clothes. Your individual answers are kind of irrelevant, but it is fun to think about what your limits might be, isn’t it? Did you know the average football player made that much last year and you can bet he didn’t kill any of his family members and there weren’t any cat turds lingering on his breath either. Well ok some of the Ravens, Jaguars, Bengals, Raiders, Cowboys, Jets and Eagles players were charged with murder, but not all of them were related to the victims and some of them were just charged with attempted murder.

Enough is enough No Free Lunch bunch. Stop New Coking us and pull your collective heads out of your collective asses. You’re really pushing the limits with a lot of people that in the past were unquestionably loyal to your product. Keep it up and the only Hail Mary’s on Sunday of any relevance are going to be the ones coming from the church.

So sayeth the Meanie.

Me: Good evening Mr. Commissioner. I want to firstly say that I know you are a busy man (and a two-faced blood sucking parasite) and I truly appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to talk with me.

RG: What was that second part?

Me: You have a lovely speaking voice. Have you ever thought of doing radio? You have a face for it.

RG: Well no I hadn’t but…hey wait a minute, what did you just say to me?

Me: The fans really want to know, when you all finally get back to the bargaining table, are the prices of beers and food in the stadiums at the top of your list to discuss?

RG: What does that have to do with the Collective Bargaining Agreement?

Me: Everybody’s got to eat and those damn beers are too expensive.

RG: No it is not. Next question please.

Me: Under your watch, you seem to have let the NFL completely unfold and fall apart. How does it feel to be the one that is going to be blamed for the death of America’s favorite sport?

RG: I don’t think that is a fair assessment of the situation at all and it’s a poorly thought out question.

Me: Yeah and your mother dresses you funny. Is it true you pick out all of the green M&Ms out of the bag and go to pet stores with Richard Gere and watch the gerbils play for hours on end?

RG: What kind of question is that?

Me: The kind of question that the American football fan needs to know the answers to Mr. Commissioner. Can I call you Yoko?

RG: This interview is over!

Me: Oh that’s it. Just walk away from me. Just like you walked away from the average fans that collectively spent over nine billion dollars on your little game last year. When the fans lose interest, the sponsors are going to follow and then you’ll all have to get real jobs all while we watch reruns of Two and a Half Men.

RG: If I continue this interview, I expect you to conduct yourself in a civil, professional manner. Can I expect that from you?

Me: Yes, I’m sorry Yoko.

RG: That’s it

Me: Oh come on Rog. Give me a big man hug and tell me everything is going to be alright.

Well that was it and there it is. I tried to get to the heart of the issue but obviously Commissioner Goodell wasn’t in the mood to talk about the important issues. Keep your fingers crossed Colts faithful. As soon as I or my crack staff of investigative reporters uncovers something, you’ll be the next to know. Till then…

So sayeth the Meanie

Let’s look at what kind of money we are talking about here. Since the NFL is a private company, they keep their books locked up tighter than Lindsey Lohan’s grip on stupidity and that kind of makes it difficult to get a clear picture. I think for the sake of this discussion, let’s just say the average NFL team makes about a shitload on an annual budgeted basis. This is a fact of life. The original owners took a gamble that this “game” could become a profitable venture and they were right. They could just have easily been wrong. Just ask John DeLorean. What seems like a really good idea on paper, or during a coke fueled bender might actually lead you to financial ruin. Oh…yeah, that’s right you can’t ask DeLorean he’s dead. Much like Jamarcus Russell’s career with all same drama and crying but without the cool looking underpowered gull wing cars.

According to National Football League’s Player Association the average earned income per player is $1,800,000 with a base salary (yes I said base salary) of $990,000 per year. The NFLPA also reports that the average NFL player’s career lasts 3.6 years. The United States Census Bureau reports that the annual earnings of the average American is about $46,000. Now I’m not good at math (wink) but in that 3.6 year career the player would have earned $6.48 million dollars. It would take the average American wage earner 141 years to earn that amount of money. For the sake of argument, let’s say they NFL player played for the Jaguars and only earned his base salary every year and never even sniffed a bonus. They would still amass $3.564 million dollars in the same 3.6 year period. Bringing that number down to Earth, Johnny Lunch Pail would earn the same amount in just over 77 years.

I’m not defending the owners here, but that is a damn good living. I have the benefit of a very good education and I’ve worked very hard over the years for all I’ve got and I’ve never even come close to earning that kind of money. Hell I’ve never even been in the same ballpark, let alone zip codes of income like that. This isn’t a master/slave relationship here. No one is making them play the game. I have a hard time feeling sorry for the players at all. You hear them talking about the toll on their bodies and the sacrifices they make. Try working in a coal mine for a while. These people abuse their bodies all year round in a horrible environment for fractions of pennies on your dollars while you bitch that the water in the whirlpool isn’t 105 degrees.

Well I’m sure I just got kicked off several Christmas card lists for that little outburst, but that is how I feel. And to be completely honest (because I’ve been in and out up until here) I really don’t need the uber paid celebrity football player on the field for me to enjoy the game. Would I miss people like Peyton, Dallas, Reggie, Dwight and Gary? You bet I would, but would I stop watching football altogether because the superstars weren’t out there? In a word, no. In two words, hell no. I enjoy the game. High school football is really fun to watch and those guys don’t get paid to play, well unless of course you’re talking about Carmel or Franklin Central. The players need to realize that they have it pretty good and that the average employee is never going to make as much as an owner.

I am all for supporting the home team, I’ve been doing that since 1984 and I will continue to watch the game I love whether number 18 is worn by Peyton Manning, Billy Jack Ticklefish or a trained chimpanzee named Mr. Fuzzykins. Oh, just think of all of the personal foul flags that would be thrown (as well as the feces) if they lined up two squads of chimps. It’d be just like a night at Charlie Sheen’s house, just substitute hookers for the chimps.

You have it pretty good players. There are literally millions of guys out there dying to step into your endorsement laden shoes and take the ball and run with it. I really don’t think the owners are trying to “screw” you like you think they are. As my grandmother used to say, “Count your blessings, not your Bentleys.”

So sayeth the Meanie

What I’m about to say is going to make some of you mad, some of you think and the rest of you say “hell yes!” Coach Caldwell needs to go away and go away fast if this team is ever going to get back to the Super Bowl in the Manning era. His complete inability to manage a game makes him the largest game day liability on 56th Street. He has proven time and time again, that when it is crunch time, he gets crunched.

The aw’ shucks, everybody plays hard and we feel good about ourselves approach needs to go. The Mayberry attitude might have worked in the Eisenhower administration and in 50’s America, but it has no place in a professional football game. He never plays a game to win. There are times when you need to take control of a situation, not just sit on your hands and hope everything comes out ok. Dungy-Lite is incapable of doing that. Two years of playing not to lose has just been pissing away the talent that was the Indianapolis Colts. I’m not saying that he might not be a good coach altogether, I’m saying that he has no place making any decisions regarding actual game play situations.

Some of you are probably playing the “he tried” or “too many injuries” card regarding this season, but that doesn’t explain his true lack game managing skills. A meaningless challenge early in THE FIRST QUARTER OF A PLAYOFF GAME? Are you serious? He watched the obvious replay five or six times before he threw the red challenge flag. WTF was he thinking? It was obvious to everyone on the field, in the stadium and at home that no one had touched the damn ball! Way to blow a challenge, lose a time out and set an ugly tone for the rest of the game. This guy has no concept of game management. He continues to make one bad decision after another.

Three words keep haunting me and keep reverberating around in my brain, “third and one”. I get mad every time I think about it. How many times do we have to get stuffed on third and short before Dungy-Lite and Christensen say, “huh, this run thing doesn’t seem to be working, maybe we should pass?” A dog touches fire once and it learns that was a bad thing and it never does it again. I felt like I was watching a Chorus Line at Clowes Memorial Hall; one, two, three, kick, one, two three, kick. I really wouldn’t have been surprised if Mike Costa had run out onto the field and burst into “I Can Do That” at any time during the game (that one is for you theatre nuts, for the rest of you it is a Chorus Line joke). More bad decision making displayed here. Do you start to see a pattern?

Near the end of the second quarter the Colts had an opportunity to move the ball down the field and Dungy-Lite decided to let the clock run out. Its ok, we can settle for that. It’s not like it was the playoffs. Oops. He then displayed his “let’s play not to lose” philosophy several more times during the third and fourth quarters with conservative play calling and settling for field goals. We have Peyton Freaking Manning on our team! Probably the best quarterback to EVER play the game! Why the hell are we being conservative? We’ve passed all year long and that is what had kept us alive. So why now abandon one of our strengths to play clock management rather than scoring points? Did Caldwell bet the under? The Colts arguably have the best 2-minute offense in the National Football League. Why in hell was Caldwell driving the Ferrari like it was a Hoveround in a crowded Wal-Mart?

The time-out, ughhhh, the time-out heard round the world. As we all know, with twenty nine seconds left on the clock Coach Gump called a time-out. Why; to stop the clock for the Jets for them to really think about it or was it just to give the inexperienced quarterback Sanchez an opportunity to calm down and catch his breath? Either way there is no good explanation for taking it. The look on Peyton’s face said what we were all thinking, “Jim WTF?”! Coach Gump’s excuse was that he was trying to save time on the clock in case we got the ball back. Huh? Ok, maybe this was an isolated incident and I shouldn’t get too excited about it. But wait, it’s not! Coach Gump did the same damn thing at the end of the 31-28 loss to Jacksonville in October. So apparently he learned nothing at all with the early season loss and repeated his bad decision making policy and sealed the tomb on the Colts 2010 season.

Again I’m not saying “off with his head”, but this man has no business being a head coach and making game day decisions in the National Football league. Coach Gump’s last head coaching job yielded a lofty 23-63 win-loss record at Wake Forrest. His game record speaks for itself. Not the kind of guy you want calling the shots when it counts against people like Rex Ryan, let alone Bill Belicheat. I’m just saying.

So sayeth the Meanie

After watching Drew Brees and the Saints defeat Brett Favre and the Vikings, I thought back to last season and to seasons past and no matter how I tried to wrap my brain around it, I couldn’t ignore one stone cold fact…man I really hate Cris Collinsworth. I purposely didn’t watch the 1st episode of Showtime’s Inside the NFL this year because every time I see his swarmy face I have this compulsive urge to beat his image with a baseball bat until my hands blister and bleed. And quite frankly it’s getting too expensive replacing TVs every time his horse-like featured face appears on the screen. It’s really embarrassing when I’m out in public and I have to climb over friends, complete strangers and random pieces of furniture just to get to the big screen to pummel the visage of the bane of my existence.

I think it all stems from the fact that he is just a royal douche bag who thinks the world revolves around him and his gigantic mutant beaver teeth. He wasn’t a great receiver, he was just tall and created bad matchups. Bucky McBeaver even cost the Bengals Super Bowl XVI when he coughed up a fumble after being brushed by San Francisco’s Eric Wright. Maybe he thought it might bruise his wonderful “Saturday Night Fever” hair. I mean what kind of classy guy says to a reporter on Monday Night Football that “High school girls love me, I mean the14-18 year olds. I walk around with $100 dollar bills hanging out of my pocket. I’m a big star to them. I like girls that aren’t that bright because you can trick em a little bit.”? Even if he meant it as a joke as he later claimed, it wasn’t funny. Doubt me on this one, look it up.

I think the only time I actually enjoyed watching Cris Collinsworthless on TV was during a 2003 episode of Inside the NFL in which he made a bet with Dan Marino that if the Colts beat the defending world champion Buccaneers on Monday Night Football in Tampa that he would wear a Peyton Manning jersey during the next broadcast. As most of you can recall the Colts mounted the largest comeback in NFL history by scoring 21 points with less than 4 minutes left (I still smile when I think about that). Well on the next show Collinsworth said he had went to sleep at half time and was shocked to hear the Colts came back, never giving them any credit of course. Dan reminded him of the bet and Collinsworth said he forgot to bring the jersey. Knowing that Cris was a giant douche, Dan had thoughtfully brought in a Manning jersey for Cris to wear. Cris laughed about it and tried to move on. Marino wouldn’t let up. He got up from the desk with the jersey and walked over to Cris and said with his teeth clinched together, “Put on the jersey Cris.” Needless to say the jersey went on. The looks from both Dan and Cris were priceless. I thought Cris was gonna cry and Dan was gonna kick his ass right there on national TV. I swear if the Smell-A-Vision had been around it would have been obvious to all that Collinsworth was baking brownies in his BVDs. Definitely more than just a turtle head poking out if you know what I mean.

Thank God for the regular season games where I can turn down the sound on the TV and listen to Bob Lamey make the calls (unless you have Direct TV and you have that nice delay) . It’s a shame they paired Collinsworth up with broadcasting legend Al Michaels. I really like Al. I’ve met the man and he is genuinely a nice guy. Being stuck right next to Mr. Assbag in the broadcast booth I wonder how often Al thinks about painful, interesting and original ways to end Cris’s life? I know I think about it every time he opens his mouth.

Our own little local Collinsworthless, Bob Kravitz (equally cool hair) starts off the 2010 regular season by picking against Colts in their season opener against the Texicans. While not as popular, talented, wealthy or even liked by his own children as much as Collinsworth, Kravitz has his own special brand of douche baggery that can be as equally annoying as the horse faced Bucky McBeaver. But that story is for another time.

So sayeth the Meanie

During my self-imposed exile, several things have happened that made me want to look at people in that tilted dog head stare. You know the one where your dog looks you dead in the face and then slowly rotates his head to one side while seeming to say, “WTF dude?” I mean the Super Bowl for one. Come on people, you actually believe that on any given day the Taints would beat the Colts? I didn’t. Caldwell pulled out the old Dungy everybody deserves a hug for trying so hard playbook and laid a giant-sized turd in Miami for all to see. Peyton chokes in another big one, Peyton can’t win the big games, and my favorite; Peyton threw the game for his old hometown (insert dog head turn here). I haven’t talked much football with anyone since that game, A) because there isn’t any football and B) because I still have that throw-up taste in my mouth from February 7th that I can’t seem to get rid of no matter how many Altoids I eat. I really need to move on don’t I?

At least the draft showed up in time to shine a little light into the collective black hole that is my life. We needed to draft an offensive line since our running game of late has been about as strong as Ellen DeGeneres in a strong man competition. So what does Bill do? He drafted defense in the first three rounds and grabbed only one offensive line man out of the seven rounds. Normally I’d be getting upset about now, but Bill has proven me wrong more times than not. Anybody remember the 2001 draft when we so needed defensive help and Uncle Bill drafted a wide receiver? Who knew that little boy from south Florida that everyone called “Johnny Floorchicken” due to his love of playing video games on the floor while eating buckets of domesticated fried fowl would grow up to be Reggie Wayne? And now you know the rest of the story.

While I’m on the subject of random things that rub me the wrong way, I believe they should impose the death penalty or at least a severe caning for any douchenozzle already at or BELOW the speed limit that slams on his brakes while on the highway just because he sees a police car. If you are not speeding why the #%&* do you need to slow down? If the %&*@ING cop is on the other side of the concrete wall, the barrier will not magically open up to allow him to traverse 6 lanes of traffic just to write you a ticket for going 49 in a 55. You would be better off riding a bus or just sitting your ass at home and keeping the roads safe for the rest of us.

I could write an entire book on the interesting people and things you can see at your local Walmart, but I’ll try and keep it brief. Just because you are too lazy to walk while you shop, that doesn’t give your fat ass in the motorized wheelchair the right of way all over the store. There are other people in the store besides you that have a little self respect and discipline enough left to actually walk through the store to get their super sized box of lard filled, frosting-buried Hostess snack cakes. Don’t give me that line of crap that you need the scooter to get around because I saw you leap out of that seat and run over to the refrigerator case once you realized there was only one package of chocolate covered bacon left. The only person you are fooling is yourself. Give the rest of us and that poor overworked scooter a much needed break.

Something else that is really bothering me is the media. I’m not trying to get political here, but if the BP oil spill would have happened on GW’s watch the media would have crucified him on the hour. “It is now hour 504 of George Bush’s epic failure to help save the planet. Why does he hate the American people, clean water, clean air and fuzzy puppies & kittens? Details on this in the next hour as well as an exclusive interview with a woman who claims President Bush once wouldn’t let her cut in front of him in line at the slide at recess.” Now it’s even hard just to hear the news over the loud sucking sound heard when they talk about the current president. The harshest criticism I’ve heard was “he’s trying”. GMAFB! Bush hates black people because he mobilized the National Guard and declared a national emergency two days BEFORE hurricane Katrina even touched land, but Obama waits eight days before he even publicly commented on the oil spill and then he only said he was going to send advisors to the site, EIGHT DAYS LATER! Oh yeah, that’s fair and unbiased coverage.

Alright I said I wasn’t going to get political, tough $#!+. I changed my mind. If you don’t like it, go write your own blog that I’ll incessantly ignore or only read to make fun of and point out the grammatical errors. Since when did it become wrong to defend our borders? It is in the freaking Constitution of the United States (that is the document that our current president and his friends choose to ignore when it suits their purpose) that the government is responsible for the defense and protection of our borders. The governor of Arizona is merely trying to enforce federal law. It is not racial discrimination it is a cold hard fact. Who is coming over the border illegally; the Russians, Chinese, Africans, Canadians, the French? No, it is the Mexicans. The Mexican president is appalled that we are upset over people entering the United States illegally. He can’t understand why. I’ll tell you why, the people that are leaving Mexico and entering Arizona aren’t the hard working, please let me pick your fruit and cut your grass type of Mexicans. No these are the move into your house while you are out and the slash your throat while you are sleeping kind of Mexicans.  Of course the Mexican president is upset that we won’t take his drug dealing, murdering citizens into our huddled masses and love them like our own. Did you know that the minimum sentence in Mexico for illegally entering their country is 2 years in a Mexican prison? But President Felipe expects us to welcome Mexicans illegally into our country with open arms. Practice what you preach amigo.

I really need football to center my focus and to keep me from climbing up in a bell tower with an automatic weapon to cleanse the soil of the unworthy ones. Do we even have any bell towers in Indianapolis? Is it me, or does Indy sports talk radio really suck now. WNDE is a mere shadow of its former self. The only thing I want to rack on the Jim Rome Show is Jim Rome. And can any of you honestly tell me you think Mark Patrick is funny?  The only person that thinks Mark Patrick is funny is the guy that stares back at him in the mirror and at times I have my doubts about that.  JMV, where are you? You brought an intelligent humor, smut and charm to sports radio. Now we are stuck with Mr. Pompusassington and his never ending love of himself. If JMV’s departure from the Indy airwaves wasn’t hard enough on me, the management at Emmis Communications saw it in their infinite wisdom to split up the comedy team of Kravitz and Eddie. These guys were comedy gold! How will I ever survive without hearing Kravitz’s insightful ramblings in the afternoons? (insert dog head turn here) Rumor has it our friend JMV will be returning to the airwaves of Indianapolis. When, I do not know. I was told to be patient. I can only hope it is before I Google “Bell Towers Indianapolis”.

So sayeth the Meanie

EDITOR’S NOTE:  Since the writing of this piece JMV has returned to the airwaves of Indianapolis replacing Kravitz and Eddie’s time slot on 1070 The Fan, yay.

I haven’t posted on any boards.  I have barely read any football news since the Colts committed suicide on national television.  I’m still kind of numb.  Granted it was kinda nice that New Orleans finally got a Super Bowl despite that gawd awful “Who dat?” phrase.  Jesus, I heard it so much that week that it was almost like I was an extra on the set of the Waterboy II.   Well life goes on, but I really don’t know if I feel like discussing football right now.  As Bill Polian said, it’s the past, move on.  So who am I to argue?

Since I didn’t have football to occupy my mind, I needed something else to help burn off some of the extra spastic brain energy that had built up in my think melon.  Mass quantities of alcohol and Rock Band, Beatles style, YES!  That was the ticket!    I called my band mates and had them over, started feeding the alcohol fueled machine and then put the kids to bed.  We made it through “Something” where my band mates carried their own weight all while I scored 100% on both the bass and harmony parts.  I rocked that plastic imitation Hofner bass like nobody’s business!  My drummer attempted to pick another tune for us to do, but was unable to do so.  You know drummers, not the smartest lot.  So I used my own controller to get the band going again, all to no avail.  At that moment, the lead singer pointed at my Xbox 360 and said, “What do those red lights mean?”  Yes my friends, it was the Red Ring of Death.  For those of you non-360 owners, the Red Ring of Death is a feature built into every one of Microsoft’s game consoles that activates a critical hardware failure every time Microsoft’s stock drops below $25.17 a share.  So now I had a new problem.  I had these drunk guys in my house jonesing to scream Beatles songs at the top of their lungs all while acting like they had some semblance of musical talent.  Someone suggested we go to Wal-Mart and buy a new Xbox, bring it back to my house, swap the hard drives out and take the dead one back to Wally-World.  What a great idea!  Now all we had to do was to figure out who was going to drive our drunken asses to Wal-Mart.  To answer that complex question we decided to play Wii bowling.  The loser would drive.  We decided a best out of three format was best.  After we determined the driver we needed to figure out who was going to purchase the temporary 360 to later return it.  That meant that we had to play another match set to determine the purchaser and even another to determine who was going to drive us back, because it wasn’t fair to make the original driver do again.  Well, it wasn’t fair unless he lost his ass at bowling again.  It got to be 2am and we had yet to assign all of the important positions, when the urge for Tombstone pizzas took over.  I distinctly remember telling all of them to leave their pants on just in case my one of daughters woke up before they stumbled home.  Well unfortunately, I wasn’t the first one up.  But fortunately they were all able to pass out in my downstairs without removing any articles of clothing.

I eventually got up and kicked my band mates out, but not before my daughters had drawn things on their exposed skin during their alcohol induced slumber.  A day of rest is what I had planned for the rest of the day, but my wife had other plans.  She told me her mother wanted to check out Indiana Live casino and do a little gambling.  Well, I could be up for that.  Hell, my Monster-in-Law even volunteered to drive and get a babysitter for the girls, bonus.  Saturday at the casino was packed.  Every machine was filled.  I had to wait 45 minutes just for a seat at one of the blackjack tables.  I finally got a seat and was a happy camper.  The table wasn’t very friendly and I was starting to get a little concerned, when Randy our illustrious Blue Crew President came up and said, “Looks like you could use a beer.”  Well hell yeah I could.  I took one sip of that magic elixir and I swear I heard the Popeye music going off in my head.  You know the tune that plays whenever Popeye chugs a can of spinach?  I was ready for action!  I started on a tear and could not lose.  This is just what I needed.  What I didn’t need was my mother-in-law coming up and asking me how much I had in the machine because we had to leave.  I explained to her that I was on a role and that I should at least play it out.  She didn’t care, she wanted to leave.  Just then my wife showed up.  A glimmer of hope came over me.  My wife looked me dead in the face and said, “Mom wants to go.”  You’ve got to be kidding me?  I reiterated my streak and Randy even helped plead my case all to no avail.  Randy offered to take me home and I even offered to pay for a cab.  Oh no, the Monster-in-Law had to leave and I had to leave with her or her daughter would receive the brunt of her wrath in my absence.  %#@& ME!

Oh look, morning and more snow.  So this makes what, 3 shovelings in less than 7 days?  Oh I love my life.  Nothing quite says fun like shoveling heavy snow with a surgically repaired back with no help.  Several beers, oxycontin and a heating pad later I was in a happier place, at least for a moment.

Monday came around and it was time to go back to work.  Well for me at least, the girls had a holiday from school.  I drove around in the crappy continuing snow all day and prayed for my day to be over.  I finally made it back home and the girls were still in their PJs playing the Wii just as I left them several hours earlier.  Did I mention that it snowed all day and no one touched the driveway?  I thought I would do something nice (God knows why), so I decided to make some spaghetti with my wonderful, soon to be famous homemade sauce (those of you that have had it can contest to its amazingness).  Got the sauce simmering and went out to shovel my untouched driveway, which AGAIN is just great on my surgically repaired back.  Came in made a drink.  Threw in the garlic bread and started boiling the water for the pasta.  After I placed the garlic bread on the island to cool, it was time to drain the pasta.  Apparently it was also time for Loki (my collie) to claim the garlic bread as his own from the counter.  I guess I really didn’t want any garlic bread.  At times, I think the guy upstairs really doesn’t like me.  Is it football season yet?

So sayeth the Meanie,

Yell, scream GO HORSE!!!

New Orleans doesn’t deserve to win the Super Bowl because of Katrina.  Some New York sports writing wannabe said that if you didn’t live in Indianapolis and you weren’t rooting for the Saints then you have no soul.  God is not up in heaven sporting a Reggie Bush replica jersey, wearing a giant foam Saints finger on his left hand thinking, “Yeah that storm really messed that community up.  I think I’ll give Peyton a case of explosive diarrhea.”  Not happening.  The Almighty has other things to worry about like who’s going to star in the next “Twilight” movie and whether or not Lindsay Lohan is a lesbian this week.  Let the arrows fly.

I will be the first to say, what happened in New Orleans was a terrible tragedy.  It was a terrible thing to happen.  I do not believe God intended to smite the people of New Orleans with Katrina.  For those of you Old Testament fans, you will agree with me that there probably was a whole lot going on down there that would given God ample reasons to pull out the smite card and play it on that city, but I do not believe that was the case.  The people had plenty of warning.  Weather satellites and radar tracking had the storm pegged down to the minute of its arrival.  If someone told me my home was going to be demolished in a storm and showed me proof and told me when it was going to happen, I think I would have left town for a few days just in case, but that is just me.

I think it is great that the community has come together over their team.  That is one of the reasons we watch football, for the social interaction and fellowship.  Indianapolis lost a great radio host when JMV left 1260 Sports Radio, now we are stuck with Mark “I’m my own biggest fan” Patrick.  1070 The Fan cut super Colts fan Jersey Johnny’s radio show and left us with Bob Kravitz.  Is that fair?  Katrina came and went.  Kravitz is on weekdays from 3-6 so who’s getting punished now?  We dey!  I like the argument that the Saints deserve to win because they have never won a Super Bowl.  I’ve never had syphilis.  Does that mean I deserve a painful STD?  No it doesn’t.

What happened in Indy when the Colts won Super Bowl XLI?  People gathered in the streets and hugged.  Grown men cried, and the entire community had a new sense of pride that our hometown boys had reached the pinnacle of their season.  A crowd of several hundred thousand gathered out in the freezing cold to welcome our boys home with a parade and a celebration in the old RCA Dome.  What would happen in New Orleans if the Saints won?  I’ll tell you what’s going to happen; pure and utter chaos, looting the likes of which you have never seen.  Cars will be burning in the street, windows will be smashed all over downtown, the destruction will be of biblical proportions that will make that hurricane seem more like an April shower.  Again, I’m not downplaying the terrible tragedy of Katrina, but is there anyone out there that can honestly look me in the face and tell me I’m wrong?

This game is not about what community did what, or what celebrity is rooting for whom and who they are dating.  This game is about preparation, hard work and dedication.  Sure the whole tragedy thing is a good angle to sell newspapers and advertising space, but in the end it is not what wins the game.  In the end, it’s Peyton Manning that wins the game.

So sayeth the Meanie,

Yell, scream, GO HORSE!!!

This year I’ve watched this team overcome adversity all season long, no matter what form it came in. We’ve won defensive battles when the offense wasn’t clicking, we’ve won without time of possession, we’ve won shootouts and we’ve done it all while having a good number of players not healthy and ready to go. But still the talking heads in the media put the same old spin on it every week. The Colts got lucky, and got a gift. That gift has come in many forms; Belichick being Belichick, the refs actually doing their job, teams giving us the victory, opposing teams penalizing themselves with stupid penalties, and the new one is that we got a gift from Chad Simpson for running a kick back for a touchdown. Isn’t that his job as a kick returner? While I’m on the subject of the game Thursday night against the Sparkle Kitties, I’d like to share with you some of the intelligent comments our friends at ESPN were saying about the victory:

–>No disrespect to the Colts, but the Jags lost this game (no $#!+?)

–>They never should have let Reggie burn them (like they had an option?)

–>The Jaguars dominated the Colts all game. If it weren’t for the return Colts lose (someone didn’t watch the game did they?)

–>You see holes in this team every week (and every week we overcome them jackhole!)

–>The defense is the weak spot on this team (if being ranked 3^rd in the NFL is weak, I’ll take that)

–>The Colts didn’t match the intensity of the Jaguars (because we didn’t wear teal?)

–>Teams will show the film of the Jags game to their players as a blueprint on how to beat the Colts. (??? Didn’t Miami present the blueprint too?)

–>The Colts confidence has been punched in the mouth and they are hurting (from what, laughing so hard?)

–>If you look at this Colts team their record may be, but they are far from perfect (Howard Cosell must laughing from heaven at how sports journalism has changed)

Wow that is some in-depth reporting there.

The hate just doesn’t come from the Four Letter Network, I’ve seen it surfing the net. People on different blogs saying how much they hate Peyton Manning. Why, because he works hard, he’s successful and gives a lot of money to charities? Is it because he has more money than most European countries? I mean I dislike other teams, but I can honestly say I don’t hate specific players. Well, all except Tom Brady. He’s such a whiney little douche bag you just have to hate his swarmy little face unless you are a Patriots bandwagoner. But if things keep trending the way they are, there are going to be a lot of empty seats on the Tom Brady fan bus.

The sports “experts” go out of their way to look for excuses why the Colts won. Are they still mad at us for all the nice things they said about us in 2005? Were they snake bitten and are now forever afraid to say anything positive about the Colts? If you remember they all said our window was closing because of the age of our team. Uh we are the third youngest if you care to check the facts. These guys spew hatred for the Colts regardless of the facts. At least when Bob Kravitz gets his facts wrong it’s not on purpose to be spiteful, it’s just because he’s stupid. There are things I don’t like in life, but I don’t go making $#!+ up about it because I don’t like it.

If you think I’m off base here, let me prove my point. Think back to 2007 and the Patriots run at perfection. It was almost like Victory Day in Europe each time the Patriots stepped closer to that perfect season. They just barely beat us, the Giants, Baltimore and Philly. The rest of the schedule comprised of two games each against the Jets, Miami, and Buffalo. In 2007 they were all pathetic. But yet the resourceful Patriots found a way to win because they were a great team. Never once was it suggested that they got a gift. They were all well deserved victories, bull $#!+ people, bull $#!+. The one thing that does make me smile is that I can walk up to a Patriot fan and say 18-1, BWWWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! Don’t think for a second that the media would love to see the Colts falter and the Saints run the table. I saw a video on Youtube of Skip Bayless performing an odd voodoo ritual chanting something about protecting the Saints and punishing the Colts all while slashing the throat of a chicken. Well, it wasn’t really a live chicken, it was a bucket of Popeye’s chicken. But it was pretty creepy watching him fondle the tasty fried fowl while Mark Schlereth swung a rubber chicken over his head wearing an inside out Peyton Manning jersey and dancing to the Macarena.

While reveling in the Patriots failure, that reminds me of the silver lining in the cloud that is the sports talking heads ramblings. The look on their faces after they guaranteed a loss is priceless. I swear to God it looked like Deion Sanders was going to cry Thursday night. The same for Mark Schlereth. This dude was an asshole when he was a player and he seems to have perfected the art as a sports commentator. Why do you think his title is “Sports Analyst”? It is not just a coincidence. In the pre-game all they talked about was how the Colts were going to lose. I’m sure during commercials Mark and Deion were consoling each other in each other’s arms after the Colts proved them wrong again.

So sayeth the Meanie.

Yell, scream, GO HORSE!!!