Opening Day, 2o18.

I started trying to write a preseason rose-colored glasses article.  Then I started having flashbacks, even though I stopped dropping Acid in the 1980s.

Turd Bowles, yesterday…(via the NYPost), in memory of Burt Reynolds passing, we will refer to Bowles as Turd Ferguson, using Norm MacDonalds brilliant SNL caricature in the famous Jeopardy skit.  ‘Turd Ferguson, that’s a funny name”  Oh, and will the media people please just fuck off. Burt’s best movies were not Smokey and the Bandit, (sorry Jackie, R.I.P), Cannonball Run, and Boogie Nights.  His best performances were,  Deliverance, The Longest Yard, and yes, Striptease.  ‘It’s Vaseline…have you never covered yourself in Vaseline? I’ve even got it in my boots, I can feel it squishing between my toes”  Holy effing defecate.

But I digress, anyway, Turd Ferguson, yesterday … (via the NY Post)

“I’m starting him — my confidence level has got to be pretty high,” coach Todd Bowles said flatly following practice. “He’s [been] playing football his whole life. We don’t go by age.”

Fucking scary shit.  Here’s me two weeks ago, bringing you Rich Kotite.

Cue Rich Kotite…

“Then again, some would argue Kotite’s decision to throw McIver to the Buffaloes one week after going with rookie free-agent cornerback Vance Joseph against the Raiders defies logic, too. But Kotite doesn’t keep his babies in diapers for long. “These are two kids who are investments for us,” he said. “All they’re lacking is experience. I’m a firm believer if you’ve got young people, play ’em. McIver is not a guy who just came in off the street.”

Seriously? We all know how that turned out, remember “Bruce killed Boomer” came long before  “They Killed Kenny! You Bastards!” Not to get on the schedule thingy again, but, (what Acid flashback would be appropriate without)paraphrasing the Grateful Dead,

“Arrows of neon and flashing marquees out on Main Street.
Cleveland, Miami, Detroit and it’s all on the same street.
Your typical city involved in a typical daydream
Hang it up and see what tomorrow brings

So, Let’s get back to our typical daydream. The neon and flashing marquees of Broadway are all beckoning for the .14 Caliber Killer, to go on a rampage, and start slaying all of those who oppose him. for all of his cool, calculating, calm, there is the Rose Bowl he took over. I can excuse the Cotton Bowl loss to my beloved Buckeyes since it made my cartoonish counterpart a.k.a. she who cannot be named, happy. The Leprechaun also happens to be a season ticket holder.

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So, We called this installment Invincible, because every NFL team is undefeated, as of this writing. So I’m putting on my fan hat today.

Why?  Because this, is what makes Football, and Sport in general, special.  From the movie, ‘Invincible”

Frank Papale: You know how I used to tell you about Van Buren scoring that touchdown back in ’48?


Frank Papale: Yeah, I know.

[waving hands]

Frank Papale: I know. That touchdown got me through 30 years at that factory. Got me through all those times your mother being sick.

So we sit here, as the season kicks off, and for one brief moment, every Football fan can see their team hoisting the VLT.

And Nothing Else Matters.

For me, on Monday night in Detroit, the Sam Darnold, the .14 Caliber Killer, has a chance to do something no Quarterback has ever done. Never lose a game. Ever. Not Monday night, Not 12 days later when he’s 3-0, in the most amazing stretch of football games by any QB, let alone the youngest rookie to start an NFL game in the modern era.  When Manish and BCoz are writing their week 3 Canton prognostications, just remember, I said it first.  I hate the G.O.A.T. bullshit that the Buck Frady jock sniffers preen about, there is no such thing. Greatest of an era, maybe. But even then, it’s a team game. on an Individual basis,  Usain Bolt isn’t even the greatest sprinter of all time, Asafa Powell has run Sub 10 seconds in the hundred more than Bolt. Michael Phelps, is probably the closest to G.O.A.T. in the sporting world, with Iron Mike Tyson a close second.

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But Today, it’s about the Jets.  What do I expect?  I expect the .14 Caliber Killer, to riddle the defense with bullets, particularly to Terrell Pryor, while Turd Ferguson also pounds Isaiah Crowell in a thunderous ground assault, then allowing the screen game to tire out a defense that should see 35 plus minutes on the turf, and on the other side of the ball, the Jets heavy investment in the secondary holds Detroit’s 2 1000 receivers at bay, forcing Stafford to hold on to the ball, covering for the anemic pass rush, and tempting Detroit to go to their newly beefed up run game, which then hides the Jets defensive deficiencies in the pass rush.  No predictions, I am not in that business yet.  But f**k it. 27 – 17. 1-0.

Today is a glorious day to be a Jets fan. Or any fan.

Happy Opening Day folks. Good Luck, and God Bless.

I don’t want to know what you think, not today.

I want you to feel good about your team, (unless you are in New England, then f*** you). Even you in Miami, Dee…you can sob next week.

So, Enter the Tiger’s Den for an Opening Day group Hug    fistbump.

Hobbes, Out.


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