So today I woke up feeling pretty damn amazing. As I floated across the bathroom floor, gliding effortlessly to Robin Thicke’s “Magic”, I noticed something strange when looking in the mirror. Normally when peering into a reflective surface, I get caught staring into my beautiful “deep as the ocean” blue eyes for 30 minutes, and if I can break that gaze, I move on to how distinguished I look. I finish off by coming up with a well thought gameplan for how I will grow my next facial hair patterns. Well today, I noticed that I do not grow fucking hair on my goddamn fucking head anymore. You bring some metal rods and some sand, and I’ll bring the horseshoe. Game on! Fuck.
“Oh I didn’t see you standing there. My Name’s Robin. I got it. You got it. We got it. The magic touch.”
I had been all excited for the Nebraska Spring Game last Saturday until Tornado Warnings caused the game to get canceled. Mother Nature is such a sultry temptress. For one brief moment, I had a reason to believe again. Football in April that isn’t reruns of Coach. I love you Dauber. Fuck yeah. I personally think that they should not have canceled the game. It was far too important. Yeah, it was a decision based off of safety concerns, but it reaches further than you’d expect. For example, children 8th grade and younger, were given free admission, as long as they completed the “drug free halftime pledge”. Now all those kids who were going to lie about not doing drugs, are out there doing drugs and they don’t even feel bad about it. Not even a lil! Hugs not drugs! Except Hugs can’t help you stay awake and alert when you need it most. In fact, hugs make me sleepy. It ruined story telling for me as well. When Michael Ziola kicks a championship clinching field goal, I would have been able to say… “I saw Mikey kick an 85 yard field goal through a tornado back in the day.” But most importantly, we tend to block out all things in real life when we have football to watch. Having no football, you notice things that you shouldn’t… You have children, your dog has actual dog food for a balanced diet(not leftover pizza crust and nacho cheese dip), you’re going bald, you should go outside during weekends, you’re not a part of your “team” and they don’t care how you feel, etc… Mother Nature, such a drug endorsing, legend killing, depression causing, cunt.
“I’m sorry, Miss Nature. I didn’t mean that, it wasn’t RAUtional thought. I still love tickling that twat of yours on the regular. I love you.”
Those Nebraska children will have the best of both worlds.
It was easy for me to blame Mother Nature for all that because its hard to face the truth… This is all Offseason Football’s fault. We live in a society, where most people are more worried about drama that affects nothing important whatsoever. It honestly makes me cry. But I cry in the shower, so no one sees my tears(my tears taste like Orange Julius, in case you were wondering). Offseason Football has done the unthinkable…It has allowed this lifestyle to enter the game we love. Sports Center has turned into the tabloids. We no longer get to hear about what actually happens on the field. We get worthless garbage.
The Saint’s Bounty System: For fuck’s sake. This is nothing more than a “swear jar” system that is being blown out of proportion. Every job has some kind of incentive if you’re good at stuff. If the players do good things, they get small rewards. In pee wee football, you get orange slices at halftime, but if you are on a winning streak they take you out for pizza parties and give you mimosas after games. That doesn’t mean those kids need to claim those rewards on their taxes. Kid’s don’t do taxes? Ugh, Our youth today has no work ethic. It’s in the player’s and coaches’ lingo to tell players to go out and kill the other players(OTHER PLAYERS being the key point RAY LEWIS). At the earliest stages of the game we are taught to be mini Ivan Dragos on the field. We need to crush and break everyone. It’s fucking football. These dudes don’t get paid 100 million dollars for no reason. It is a dangerous game. If we want to take out the rough portion of the game, pay the players like runners. That is all they will be. Runners. If you ask someone if they will take 20 years off their life to make millions and be set for life, everyone says yes. That is what these men do. Of course you’re going to test other players at their weakness. We don’t tell boxers not to aim for a gash opened above an eye.
The future of the NFL. Short shorts, tank tops, running, and mustaches…It's not all bad, no current NFL player had TWO movies made about them. PRE!
I go on about just that example all day, but I should probably do some actual work at work (gotta make that money because I apparently have the financial prowess of Woody Harrelson in White Men Can’t Jump). If this wasn’t going on in the offseason. It would not be a big deal. It would work its way out on the field. We get nonstop trash all day long about players feelings (Lamar Kardashian), owners feelings (Manning/Irsay), and, the worst, where players will end up playing in 3 years after their contract is up (if they haven’t demanded a trade already). This is all shit that doesn’t matter but we make it matter because we have no football to watch. We are one step away from Maury Povich (god bless his heart) intervening during interviews to announce that “Tim Tebow is or is not the father of Kim Kardashians’ baby”. I miss the 90’s sports. Where shit was legit. Mainly the 90’s NBA. Men who you wouldn’t cross or ask about their feelings. Mugsy Bogues would cut your face (standing on a stool of course), if you ever asked if he planned on leaving Charlotte. Note to self: Buy a 90’s Charlotte Hornets Starter Jacket. I won’t go too far into that right now. That deserves its own piece.
In conclusion, I am going bald. Yeah I didn’t finish this as strong as I would have liked, but my contract with TSANDA is up in a year, so I’m going to just phone this one in and think about where I’m going to write next year. You can just call me DWrite Howard. Plus, I’m sleepy due to a recently received hug, and I have no drugs to counteract the poison. Hug Poison. Sounds like a good band name. Better than my current band name, “Stale Croutons”
Awesome Song of the Day:
“Pull my heart away”