The horrid play of the Steelers since the Jet’s game has been as disturbing to me as it has to any Steelers fan. Last night, in a victory against he Rams, we may have finally seen a few glimmering ounces of hope.
The Steelers have some very obvious weak points this year. The most obvious is special teams. The coverage team is just as bad as it was last year if not worse. We seem to be completely incapable of tackling people and in the case of Anthony Smith incapable of even making a move to tackle someone as last night he recreated the role of running 5 yards in front of the return man until either someone else tackled him or he scored a touchdown (as the case of Joshua Cribbs in the Cleveland game). I can’t for the life of me understand what Anthony is waiting for... but I digress. Every facet of our special teams sucks except the actual act of punting and kicking. Rossum is FUCKING PATHETIC as a return man and I can only hope he gets injured so we can have a hope of a decent return sometime soon.
The next obvious problem is the offensive line. They are a shadow of what they once were. Everyone understands how bad they are in pass protection as is proven by the record setting pace Big Ben is getting sacked this year. But they are also awful in setting up the run as Willie Parker has been getting hit in the backfield time and time again this year. And it’s not because he’s pussy footing around looking for a hole – he is getting drilled within seconds of touching the ball as he’s running in a straight line towards what is supposed to be a hole. People bitch and whine that we should have resigned Alan Faneca but maybe these people don’t see that he is part of the problem on the line this year. I wouldn’t pay more than a little above league average to sign him (which he isn’t willing to take) so I say, “good riddance, Alan, you played your ass off for us and I love you for it but you’re losing a step and you’re not worth the money you’re asking”.
The third problem was wide receivers. Behind Hines Ward and Santonio Holmes we didn’t really have any reliable threats. This became painfully obvious when both Ward and Holmes went down with injuries at different points of the season. I say “was” because in the last two games Nate Washington decided he wouldn’t drop every other ball that was thrown to him so maybe he’s actually on the verge of living up to his potential. But even then, we would only have 3 receivers which is at least one too short.
Even with those problems, we managed to start the season at 9-3. We had overcome a lot of adversity. The reason: Defense and Big Ben. Those were the rocks in our season that were unwavering.
But then came the New England and Jacksonville game which took the air out of the defense. Instead of the defense that led the league in points allowed, passing, and rushing allowed for most of the season, we saw a full time version of the defense that allowed Denver to win that debacle earlier in the season… and we saw them for 60 full minutes a game. Every god damned drive.
The defense played horribly against New England and Jacksonville. The secondary was pathetic (especially Anthony Smith at safety). We couldn’t stop the run either. The linebackers were inept because not only could they not stop the run they could not solve the problem of pressuring the quarterback which was a trend that started even earlier. It was so bad that an idiot like me watching at home could tell what the offense was about to do prior to the snap - but our own defense couldn’t. They were getting outplayed and outthought. It was a disgrace.
So what happened? How can a defense go from best in the league to basically worst in the league? Well surely losing Aaron Smith was part of the problem as he is arguably one of the best Defensive Ends in the league. But that can’t make an entire defense fall apart. Unfortunately beyond that I honestly don’t know what happened. I can’t figure it out. It really put me in a panic.
The good news is that even though we saw the shitty defense start the game yesterday we did see glimpses of the #1 defense at times. They are still there. Why they can’t come out and play 60 minutes is beyond me. But the fact that they are still there somewhere gives me hope that they can turn it back on.
Finally to Ben: He has been the sole bright spot in the Steelers season this year. He has played incredibly and he still seems to be getting better and better. If not for him we would be in much worse shape. And because of him, as bad as we can play there is always a hope of winning because of him.
That’s why the injury that scared me the most yesterday was not Willie Parker. It was when Ben went down funny on his knee and was in some obvious pain. If we lose Ben, I don’t think we can hold it together this year. I love Charlie Batch, but the team is playing so poorly right now that we need a guy that can carry the whole team on his shoulders. I don’t think Charlie is that guy. He can win a game or two or even three when the whole team is firing. But with the weight of the world on the QBs shoulder’s the only man that can make it out alive is Ben.
Strangely enough Willie’s broken leg wasn’t even the second scariest injury to me. That honor went to Najah Davenport when he tweaked an ankle. Why? Because as much as I love Willie Parker I’m still a sucker for the big running back. When Najah came in the game he was unstoppable. Was that because the Rams defense is total shit? Was that because the offensive line is better equipped to block a true power running (up the middle) game? Or was that because Najah is just a big fucking brute?
I don’t want to see Willie out for the season but I have to say I actually like our chances in the playoffs this year a little better with Najah leading the way than with Willie. This is counter to what all sportswriters will be talking about in the next week so feel free to call me crazy. But, when the Steelers ground game comes back to life in the next couple weeks and we start completely dominating on offense remember where you heard it first.
They say, “Oh, with Fast Willie gone the play action will be gone and Ben will have to throw the deep ball and he’ll therefore get dumped on his ass because the offensive line can’t protect him that long.” To that I say, “You don’t have to fuck with the play action when 8 men in the box can’t stop the bruising power of the Big Back.” Once we starting tearing off 5 yards per carry out of the good old fashioned I formation, defenses are going to have to stand up and take notice. And that will clear the path for Ben to throw deep.
Trust me on this. And Bruce Arians… if you’re listening. It’s called the I-formation. Look back on any Steelers game from 1993 to last year and you’ll see what I’m talking about. It will work with Najah.
In summary, last week (after the Jacksonville loss) I predicted the Steelers would lose in the first round of the playoffs (if they even made it to the playoffs). Now, with Najah leading the running game and a little faith that the defense can un-fuck themselves I’m willing to say we make it into the second round of the playoffs.
Hey, it’s not the superbowl, but its one game closer.
That said, the special teams and offensive line still suck balls and we need to address that shit in the off season. Fixing those two holes will get us back up to championship speed.
So here’s to the Browns getting their asses kicked this weekend and the Steelers destroying the Ravens in Baltimore next week. Because as much as I’m down on my team sometimes, I’m still a fan and therefore always have hope.
-David
PS: Willie Parker said a few weeks ago that he wished the Steelers would get artificial turf so he could run better (than he can in the current muck of Heinz field). I wonder if he still feels that way as he sits in a cast that he got as a result of a broken leg caused by artificial turf?
Fuck artificial turf. Keep Heinz field grass.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
It's alive!
As usual, fall is busy. Sorry I have not been able to write too much during these turbulent times. Fantasy football was a nightmare this year almost on the scale of the hellish turn the Steelers season as taken. But in a few short weeks all these bad football dreams will end as the 2007 season does. We can go into the great cleansing that is the off season and dream again of Championships and moonshine.
And we can start writing anew now that our brains are not poisoned and our soul is not stolen from us in the night.
So welcome back to reality. Many thoughts have been running through my head and it’s time to sort it all out again.
-David
And we can start writing anew now that our brains are not poisoned and our soul is not stolen from us in the night.
So welcome back to reality. Many thoughts have been running through my head and it’s time to sort it all out again.
-David
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Fuck sportswriters
At least once a season, I have to step back and marvel at how dumb most sportswriters are. I don’t know why I never learn my lesson and think that they can understand what they see because it happens EVERY fucking year. So welcome to the 2007 NFL season because a giant cloud of stupid ness descended down upon sportswriters everywhere after the 31-28 Steelers loss last Sunday night.
I’m sure they watched at least the first half of the game because they had no problem at all pointing out that the Steelers came out passing and made some mistakes that let Denver get up on them. But I wonder if they all went to bed at half time and missed the real reason we lost?
In case you don’t know, popular opinion among the “experts” is that Pittsburgh lost the game because we came out passing against a defense that was last place against the run. Most thought that if we ran it we would just pound it down their throats and easily win the game. So the mistakes in execution of the already ill planned passing game led to turnovers which put us down and forced us to keep passing and we were not playing Steelers football and blah, blah, blah.
Maybe these guys were too busy jotting notes down about how Tomlin fucked this one up with his game plan or tallying turnovers to notice that our defense couldn’t stop anything Denver was doing. Maybe they don’t understand that turnovers aren’t the end of the world if you treat it like a challenge and come up big on defense, holding the offense scoreless as a result.
And maybe they missed the entire second half of the game. The part where the Steelers offense came back and just scored touchdowns like they were cashing paychecks. You know the part: the one where every other time we scored, our defense allowed Denver to come right back and score.
With 1:09 left on the clock, the Steelers scored the game tying touchdown on another great drive by Ben Roethlisberger. All we had to do was keep Denver on their side of the 50 yard line and we could go to OT and stomp those fuckers. But yet again, the defense let them walk right up the field and hammer home the kill shot in the form of a Jason Elam field goal. Game over. 31-28.
The Steelers defense allowed 24 points in that game. I’m sorry but that is not acceptable by the standards we hold true for a Steelers defense. If you consider the offense scored 21 points (I’ll deduct 7 from their total since they allowed a score) you need to assume the defense can hold an opponent to under that total. A true Steelers D should not be allowing 20+ points in any game. These so called sportswriters that claimed we didn’t play Steelers football because we didn’t come out running seemed to forget that even more than a running game Steelers football is about defense. And they dropped the ball in this game. That’s what lost it for us.
Yeah, I know it’s hard to play in Mile High Stadium. Yeah, I know it’s hard when one of the best defensive ends in football is injured at the beginning of the game. So I’m willing to forgive them as long as they come out this weekend, stick it to the Bungles, and show that it was just a momentary lapse. My point is not to crucify the defense. My point is to illustrate how poorly these professionals broke down the root cause of the loss.
It just wasn’t the national bozos either. The local Pittsburgh articles I read seemed to be fueled by the same Kool Aid guzzling. That’s even more pathetic because at least those guys should get it right since it is their full time job to cover the Steelers. I’m looking at you, Ed Bouchette, you fucking hack.
Seems to me the real motive here was to try to take Mike Tomlin down a notch. He was doing so well in his first season that I have to think people were just waiting to show that he’s not perfect. It’s his fault because he got too cute and didn’t just stick to basic Steelers football and take advantage of our great running game and their awful running defense, blah, blah, blah. The most hysterical part of all this is that if we would have won the game in a convincing manner (which we easily could have with that exact game plan), everyone would have called him a genius for coming out there and going against the grain.
I guess only Mr. Genius, Bill Belicheck* is allowed to game plan in the NFL these days. Every other coach is just a fucking idiot.
So sportswriters everywhere (except the 20% of you that are good – Jeffri Chadiha I’m looking at you now), please pull The New England Patriots’ cock out of your mouth long enough to watch the whole game next time.
-David
* I don’t even respect this fucktard enough to spell check his stupid name.
I’m sure they watched at least the first half of the game because they had no problem at all pointing out that the Steelers came out passing and made some mistakes that let Denver get up on them. But I wonder if they all went to bed at half time and missed the real reason we lost?
In case you don’t know, popular opinion among the “experts” is that Pittsburgh lost the game because we came out passing against a defense that was last place against the run. Most thought that if we ran it we would just pound it down their throats and easily win the game. So the mistakes in execution of the already ill planned passing game led to turnovers which put us down and forced us to keep passing and we were not playing Steelers football and blah, blah, blah.
Maybe these guys were too busy jotting notes down about how Tomlin fucked this one up with his game plan or tallying turnovers to notice that our defense couldn’t stop anything Denver was doing. Maybe they don’t understand that turnovers aren’t the end of the world if you treat it like a challenge and come up big on defense, holding the offense scoreless as a result.
And maybe they missed the entire second half of the game. The part where the Steelers offense came back and just scored touchdowns like they were cashing paychecks. You know the part: the one where every other time we scored, our defense allowed Denver to come right back and score.
With 1:09 left on the clock, the Steelers scored the game tying touchdown on another great drive by Ben Roethlisberger. All we had to do was keep Denver on their side of the 50 yard line and we could go to OT and stomp those fuckers. But yet again, the defense let them walk right up the field and hammer home the kill shot in the form of a Jason Elam field goal. Game over. 31-28.
The Steelers defense allowed 24 points in that game. I’m sorry but that is not acceptable by the standards we hold true for a Steelers defense. If you consider the offense scored 21 points (I’ll deduct 7 from their total since they allowed a score) you need to assume the defense can hold an opponent to under that total. A true Steelers D should not be allowing 20+ points in any game. These so called sportswriters that claimed we didn’t play Steelers football because we didn’t come out running seemed to forget that even more than a running game Steelers football is about defense. And they dropped the ball in this game. That’s what lost it for us.
Yeah, I know it’s hard to play in Mile High Stadium. Yeah, I know it’s hard when one of the best defensive ends in football is injured at the beginning of the game. So I’m willing to forgive them as long as they come out this weekend, stick it to the Bungles, and show that it was just a momentary lapse. My point is not to crucify the defense. My point is to illustrate how poorly these professionals broke down the root cause of the loss.
It just wasn’t the national bozos either. The local Pittsburgh articles I read seemed to be fueled by the same Kool Aid guzzling. That’s even more pathetic because at least those guys should get it right since it is their full time job to cover the Steelers. I’m looking at you, Ed Bouchette, you fucking hack.
Seems to me the real motive here was to try to take Mike Tomlin down a notch. He was doing so well in his first season that I have to think people were just waiting to show that he’s not perfect. It’s his fault because he got too cute and didn’t just stick to basic Steelers football and take advantage of our great running game and their awful running defense, blah, blah, blah. The most hysterical part of all this is that if we would have won the game in a convincing manner (which we easily could have with that exact game plan), everyone would have called him a genius for coming out there and going against the grain.
I guess only Mr. Genius, Bill Belicheck* is allowed to game plan in the NFL these days. Every other coach is just a fucking idiot.
So sportswriters everywhere (except the 20% of you that are good – Jeffri Chadiha I’m looking at you now), please pull The New England Patriots’ cock out of your mouth long enough to watch the whole game next time.
-David
* I don’t even respect this fucktard enough to spell check his stupid name.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Don't report this, Agents of Fortune!
As predicted, the El Paso Custom Car and Chopper Festival unfolded into a night to remember. The plan was to meet up with my friends Jack, Mike, and some of their friends at our favorite downtown watering hole, La Nortena at 7 pm. From there, properly lubricated, we’d head over to the street festival to enjoy Mini-Kiss and BOC.
Early the day of the show, Jack called me and said the rendezvous time had been moved up to 6 pm. No problem. I called Mike and informed him of the change. He said he worked until 6 but not to worry as he’d take off a few minutes early. The new plan was for Mike and me to meet at a parking lot downtown and then head over to meet Jack at the bar.
Soon it was time to head downtown so I bid my family farewell and rolled my black S-10 south. I got to the parking lot where Mike was supposed to meet me at 6 pm on the nuts. Maybe 2 minutes after I shut off the truck, Jack showed up as well. He had decided to meet up with us there. We stood outside my truck, in the incredibly hot El Paso evening until about 6:10 pm. By that point, I was completely dehydrated and urgently needed a cold beer. So I called Mike’s cell and told him to meet us at Chama’s, a bar right across from the parking lot.
Jack and I went into the bar and ordered a couple beers. For the hundredth time I began to explain to Jack that he shouldn’t be a Dallas Cowboy’s fan because they are a bunch of fucking douchebag dildos. Alas, this time he didn’t seem to listen to me either. His loss. Before we even finished the first round, Mike walked into the bar and we were ready to go. Jack and I slammed the rest of our beers and hopped into our trucks to head down to La Nortena.
Upon, getting there, we met up with one of their mutual friends, a woman about our age. We began to buy buckets of beer and drank the evening away while eating some dinner.
Somewhere along the line, Mike’s famous shots began to show up at our table. For those of you who don’t know Mike, he has a tendency to concoct the most interesting shots made up of multiple liquors that are usually between 100 and 150 proof. They are always delicious… like a combination of something very tasty and jet fuel.
Finally, darkness descended upon the great Northern Pass and the last of Jack’s friends arrived, a couple who was also about our age. I don’t recall their names but I remember the guy had this SWEET button down KISS shirt with all their faces on it. I was enthralled (and getting progressively drunker as I slammed beer after beer and shot after shot).
9 pm rolled around and the group decided it was time to head over to the show, about 10 blocks away. Upon entering the festival grounds (a blocked off portion of the downtown streets), we were immediately presented with rows and rows of motorcycles. Every man and woman who owned a motorcycle (non-crotch rocket) must have driven it to Texas Ave. that night. I’ve never seen so many bikes in my life.
After walking for what seemed like forever, we reached the end of the motorcycles. Directly after them we saw some motorcycle games being played where a man would drive his motorcycle under a big limbo bar and a hot chick on the back of it would throw a water balloon over the bar and try to catch it. We watched this for a few minutes and quickly learned that the point wasn’t so much to catch the balloon (though that is what the teams had to do to advance to the next round), rather to have the water balloon hopefully land on the woman’s tits and explode, dousing them with water. Fascinating.
But the time was slipping away and we had to get to the stage to secure our seats and our next round of beers. So we left the motorcycle Olympics behind and finally reached the stage at the far end of the festival. The stage itself was actually very small and we were able to get some spots pretty close to the wall that separated the VIP seating from the cretins. Unfortunately we were the cretins. NOTE: Later in the night I convinced one of the women in our party to try to bribe the security guy into letting us into the VIP section. Can you believe that dildo turned down $40 to let 4 of us in? Fucker…
Anyhow, we chatted for a bit while they were setting up for Mini-KISS. I think I eventually made the rest of my party nervous because I kept moving us forward at every opportunity to the point where we ended up standing in a place where we were between the sound board to our right and a bunch of seats to our left. It was at that point that the rest of the crew began to slowly head back to our previous position as I believe we pissed of the lame fuckers that were sitting down behind us. But I stayed my ground. This was festival seating for Christ’s Sake and I’m not about to give up a good standing position so some lazy fucker can sit on a plastic chair. The reasoning for the others retreat finally dawned on me as some cunt behind me said, “EXCUSE ME”. I turned around and she said with a less than polite tone, “Could you move over I can’t see”. So I moved over about 1 inch and turned back around and stared at her for awhile. As predicted, her stupid ass didn’t bug me again because she knew what time it was. You don’t fuck with David while he’s trying to get a good view of Blue Oyster Cult. I’m like a lion marking my fucking territory out there. Little did I know at the time that this encounter, while pretty much a non-event in my mind, ended up setting the tone for the rest of the night. At that point, the mixture of beer and now aggression started a chemical reaction within me that turned me into Big Drunk, Meathead Hillbilly for the rest of the night – or BDMH syndrome.
As the set up of for Mini-KISS dragged on, I realized I needed more beer, a common side effect of BDMH. So I headed back toward the beer tent with drink orders for our entire crew. As I was standing in line, it dawned on me that I was going to miss the opening of the Mini-KISS set because over the dull roar of conversation I heard:
“All right, El Paso! You wanted the best, you got the best! The hottest Little band in the world, Mini-Kiss!”
Following the tell tale KISS opening, were the chords of “Shout It Out Loud”. I thought to myself, “so far so good. They got the opening right.” Immediately after that though, the beginning of my elation turned a bit sour as I heard the vocals for the first time. I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard a midget sing before but I didn’t envision it to be the high pitched warbling that I was hearing. I looked to the stage to see what was going on but the combination of distance, the sound board tent, and intoxication prevented me from seeing anything that could explain the body that this odd sound was emanating from.
I collected our delicious, thirst quenching, 24 ounce beers and quickly hustled back to my turf so I could investigate further.
What I saw was mini-Gene Simmons, mini-Peter Cris, mini-Paul Stanley, and mini-Ace Frehley. Mini-KISS. But that is where the gimmick ended and within minutes I would get progressively pissed at these little motherfuckers.
Even in my drunken state, my mind was still working (albeit slowly). Why is mini-Paul so much taller than the rest of them? Maybe mini-Paul is a dwarf, not a midget? So I concentrated on mini-Paul for awhile until… wait a fucking second! Mini-Paul is a woman! She’s not even a midget woman. She’s full sized! That’s a fucking rip off!
Disgusted, I turned away and started chatting with the group (another woman they knew had showed up as well). After another song or so I turned my attention back to the stage.
That’s when I noticed that mini-Gene was playing a six string. Hmmmm. I hear a bass guitar but mini-Gene isn’t playing it. I guess mini-Ace is playing bass. And as I was turning my head to the other side of the stage I thought, “well if mini-Ace actually plays bass why didn’t he just dress up like mini-Gene… that would have made more sense”. Then my gaze settled on mini-Ace: six string guitar. Hold on a fucking second. I scanned the rest of the stage looking for someone in the shadows playing the thundering bass that I could distinctly hear. Nothing. Then it dawned on me. THESE FUCKING MIDGETS AREN’T PLAYING THEIR INSTRUMENTS! The horror!
I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to sober up. I studied the band even more closely. Well fuck me standing in the rain, mini-Gene is NOT playing that guitar. And mini-Ace isn’t playing his either. He’s riffing solos in a part of the song that is just rhythm. And fuck me, mini-Peter isn’t even playing those fucking drums. He’s not even remotely on beat. Basically, Mini-Kiss was a pre-recording of a decent KISS cover band with a normal sized woman singing real vocals. She was the only one “playing” her instrument (vocals). And she wasn’t even a fucking midget!
I was disgusted. I was betrayed. I spent the ENTIRE next song holding up my middle finger at the band. Fuck them.
But then my middle finger became tired and I realized they weren’t even worth my “fuck you” so I just started drinking again. The freak show wasn’t over, however, because mini-Gene got on the mike and said that we were in for a real big treat because they were going to play their own version of a classic KISS song next. To my horror, mini-Gene’s guitar suddenly came to life for real and the band launched into “New York Groove”.
Let me ask you a question. If you were in a KISS cover band and you were only going to bother learning how to play the guitar part to ONE fucking KISS song… would it be “New York Groove”? For those of you who are not KISS fans I’ll answer for you: NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! That song is fucking stupid. Shit, I’m not even sure it is even a KISS song for that matter… is it really an Ace solo song? This was some horseshit right here.
So here we are, listening to “their version” of “New York Groove”. But wait, it gets worse. Because mini-Gene is playing his guitar (for real), and She-man is singing (for real). But that’s it. There is no other sound. Yet, mini-Peter is “playing” his drums and mini-Ace is “strumming” his guitar. But the fucking sound is turned down on them. How fucked up was this? No more pre-recorded music. Just one guitar playing (poorly) and some fucked up warbling vocals. My mind was blown.
What’s a poor boy like me to do? I started drinking even heavier to drown out this abomination.
I was deep in the throws of my unrecognized case of BDMH by that point and barely noticed that show was finally at an end. One of the last songs they played was “Sweet Child of Mine” by GNR, featuring mini-Ace actually playing the guitar for Slash’s famous opening (mini-Gene was playing make believe again). Figures, mini-Ace can only play one song too and IT ISN’T EVEN A FUCKING KISS SONG!!!!!!!
When their set ended I was booing as loudly as I could and screaming “FUCK YOU” at the top of my lungs. That got a charge out of the audience around me because I think by that time most of them had also realized that we were stood up by the opening band.
Then I got to thinking, I hope NONE of my ticket money is going to these little fucks. Little fucking con artists. BOC better be getting ALL my money. I turned around and realized that there were only going to be about 10,000 people squeezed into Texas Ave. at a maximum. This is far down from the 20,000+ that was at the street festival last year when I saw BOC open for Styx. I began to worry about what BOC would think when they hit the stage. Did they know a fucking little band of con artists that can’t play music was their opening act? Had someone cleared that with them? I was embarrassed on behalf of the city of El Paso. I just hoped BOC could forgive us. The last thing I wanted was for them to say, “Fuck this place” and never come back. Finally, I began to panic: would they even come out on stage at this point? Shit, I couldn’t blame them if they were sitting on a side street, watching that fiasco and decided, “fuck this boys, we’re gone”.
So as my mind was reeling and I was hating on those accursed midgets I didn’t even notice that my crew had led me over to the other side of the audience. It was balls hot where we were standing and they thought it might be cooler more towards the middle of the street. This was the turning point of my night and the final catalyst for what was now a full blown outbreak of BDMH because while I was deep in thought, I met a man who would end up being my best buddy for the rest of the night.
He was 47 years old and from Arizona (I think). He had a little woman up in New Mexico but she couldn’t come down for the show. He was about my height but in much better shape… like he either worked out or he worked good, hard manual labor during the day.
I first met his acquaintance as he was trying to work his magic on the women in our group (he was standing just to the let of us). He’s advances were crude at best and it was pretty apparent to everyone but himself that none of the women were impressed. Even after he invited us to his house after the show to party he could get no takers of the female persuasion. At the time I didn’t question why a man from Arizona had a house in El Paso… I didn’t even question it when he took out his hotel room key later in the night and asked if anyone wanted to go party in his hotel room. But the ladies picked up on it quickly and dubbed him as bad news.
This signal from the women, though, I did get especially after the following conversation:
My new buddy: Hey, I’d like to (fuck) those girls (the ones with me, Jack, and Mike).
Me: I bet!
A few moments later, when his short attention span was distracted elsewhere, I turned to two of the women with us and said:
Me: You know, if you play your cards right you could end up with that guy tonight!
The Girls: (Laughter)
Me: I’m serious, he just told me he wants to fuck you.
The Girls: You’re kidding. He did not.
Me: He most certainly did.
The Girls: (Cackling, slightly nervous, a bit horrified).
It was at that point that I realized I’d have to keep myself between my new buddy and the girls for the rest of the night. No worries.
Somewhere during all this drama, BOC hit the stage. I was pleased that they didn’t just bail on us. That just shows you the kind of stand up guys they are.
They opened with “This Ain’t the Summer of Love” which I thought was strange yet awesome at the same time. After the initial orgasm of rock I realized that Allen Lanier was missing. He is the band’s 3rd guitarist / key board player. There was some slightly overweight, boring looking white guy with bad facial hair in his place. This kind of saddened me because that brought the original BOC number down to just two: Eric Bloom and Buck Dharma. Now, if you were only going to have two left those would be the two you would want, for sure, but still…
In addition, the bass player from last year was missing. In his place was Rudy Sarzo, most famous (in my eyes) for playing with Ozzy for awhile.
But let me tell you, BOC rocked hard, as usual. And all the fuel of beer and hatred of mini-KISS left me in an overly aggressive mood (Ah, the old BDMH). As my buddy and I were sharing stories of how much we loved BOC, something very awesome happened on stage and I ended up punching my buddy in the shoulder as a result. At the time, this seemed like a normal, meatheaded bonding kind of thing. And I was right as my buddy seemed to love it as he returned my punch with a big, old fashioned high five.
So that was the mode of operation for the rest of the show, I would punch my buddy in the shoulder, or grab his shoulders and shake him violently, and he would turn around and give me huge high fives. As the night wore on, my punches got harder and harder but he didn’t seem to mind. We were fast friends.
Song, after song, BOC rocked the crowed out. It was truly a good show (I’ll mention more of it at the end when I post the set list). Mike was desperately waiting to hear “Godzilla” and when it finally came on I swung around and punched him in the shoulder. I think he thought it was a bit odd because our crew is not the meathead type. But he is an old headbanger from the 80’s and I think he had reverted back into that mentality during the show so he didn’t really mind. At one point I tried the same move on Jack, who recoiled in horror as I tried to punch him. Jack is certainly not the meathead type and probably never saw the true West Virginia hillbilly that I am when I’m chocked full of beer and venom. Well, he did that night.
But alas, as quickly as the show started, it seemed to end. Shortly thereafter, I lost touch with my new buddy. Things were moving quickly now as I was to the point in my drunkenness where memory starts to become less than reliable and time moves in strange patterns. We were suddenly back at the bar (which was now closed) and we contemplated continuing the party. But I was tapped out. Between the beer, the heat, all the punching, and getting my ass rocked off I had no more to give.
Early the day of the show, Jack called me and said the rendezvous time had been moved up to 6 pm. No problem. I called Mike and informed him of the change. He said he worked until 6 but not to worry as he’d take off a few minutes early. The new plan was for Mike and me to meet at a parking lot downtown and then head over to meet Jack at the bar.
Soon it was time to head downtown so I bid my family farewell and rolled my black S-10 south. I got to the parking lot where Mike was supposed to meet me at 6 pm on the nuts. Maybe 2 minutes after I shut off the truck, Jack showed up as well. He had decided to meet up with us there. We stood outside my truck, in the incredibly hot El Paso evening until about 6:10 pm. By that point, I was completely dehydrated and urgently needed a cold beer. So I called Mike’s cell and told him to meet us at Chama’s, a bar right across from the parking lot.
Jack and I went into the bar and ordered a couple beers. For the hundredth time I began to explain to Jack that he shouldn’t be a Dallas Cowboy’s fan because they are a bunch of fucking douchebag dildos. Alas, this time he didn’t seem to listen to me either. His loss. Before we even finished the first round, Mike walked into the bar and we were ready to go. Jack and I slammed the rest of our beers and hopped into our trucks to head down to La Nortena.
Upon, getting there, we met up with one of their mutual friends, a woman about our age. We began to buy buckets of beer and drank the evening away while eating some dinner.
Somewhere along the line, Mike’s famous shots began to show up at our table. For those of you who don’t know Mike, he has a tendency to concoct the most interesting shots made up of multiple liquors that are usually between 100 and 150 proof. They are always delicious… like a combination of something very tasty and jet fuel.
Finally, darkness descended upon the great Northern Pass and the last of Jack’s friends arrived, a couple who was also about our age. I don’t recall their names but I remember the guy had this SWEET button down KISS shirt with all their faces on it. I was enthralled (and getting progressively drunker as I slammed beer after beer and shot after shot).
9 pm rolled around and the group decided it was time to head over to the show, about 10 blocks away. Upon entering the festival grounds (a blocked off portion of the downtown streets), we were immediately presented with rows and rows of motorcycles. Every man and woman who owned a motorcycle (non-crotch rocket) must have driven it to Texas Ave. that night. I’ve never seen so many bikes in my life.
After walking for what seemed like forever, we reached the end of the motorcycles. Directly after them we saw some motorcycle games being played where a man would drive his motorcycle under a big limbo bar and a hot chick on the back of it would throw a water balloon over the bar and try to catch it. We watched this for a few minutes and quickly learned that the point wasn’t so much to catch the balloon (though that is what the teams had to do to advance to the next round), rather to have the water balloon hopefully land on the woman’s tits and explode, dousing them with water. Fascinating.
But the time was slipping away and we had to get to the stage to secure our seats and our next round of beers. So we left the motorcycle Olympics behind and finally reached the stage at the far end of the festival. The stage itself was actually very small and we were able to get some spots pretty close to the wall that separated the VIP seating from the cretins. Unfortunately we were the cretins. NOTE: Later in the night I convinced one of the women in our party to try to bribe the security guy into letting us into the VIP section. Can you believe that dildo turned down $40 to let 4 of us in? Fucker…
Anyhow, we chatted for a bit while they were setting up for Mini-KISS. I think I eventually made the rest of my party nervous because I kept moving us forward at every opportunity to the point where we ended up standing in a place where we were between the sound board to our right and a bunch of seats to our left. It was at that point that the rest of the crew began to slowly head back to our previous position as I believe we pissed of the lame fuckers that were sitting down behind us. But I stayed my ground. This was festival seating for Christ’s Sake and I’m not about to give up a good standing position so some lazy fucker can sit on a plastic chair. The reasoning for the others retreat finally dawned on me as some cunt behind me said, “EXCUSE ME”. I turned around and she said with a less than polite tone, “Could you move over I can’t see”. So I moved over about 1 inch and turned back around and stared at her for awhile. As predicted, her stupid ass didn’t bug me again because she knew what time it was. You don’t fuck with David while he’s trying to get a good view of Blue Oyster Cult. I’m like a lion marking my fucking territory out there. Little did I know at the time that this encounter, while pretty much a non-event in my mind, ended up setting the tone for the rest of the night. At that point, the mixture of beer and now aggression started a chemical reaction within me that turned me into Big Drunk, Meathead Hillbilly for the rest of the night – or BDMH syndrome.
As the set up of for Mini-KISS dragged on, I realized I needed more beer, a common side effect of BDMH. So I headed back toward the beer tent with drink orders for our entire crew. As I was standing in line, it dawned on me that I was going to miss the opening of the Mini-KISS set because over the dull roar of conversation I heard:
“All right, El Paso! You wanted the best, you got the best! The hottest Little band in the world, Mini-Kiss!”
Following the tell tale KISS opening, were the chords of “Shout It Out Loud”. I thought to myself, “so far so good. They got the opening right.” Immediately after that though, the beginning of my elation turned a bit sour as I heard the vocals for the first time. I’m not sure that I’ve ever heard a midget sing before but I didn’t envision it to be the high pitched warbling that I was hearing. I looked to the stage to see what was going on but the combination of distance, the sound board tent, and intoxication prevented me from seeing anything that could explain the body that this odd sound was emanating from.
I collected our delicious, thirst quenching, 24 ounce beers and quickly hustled back to my turf so I could investigate further.
What I saw was mini-Gene Simmons, mini-Peter Cris, mini-Paul Stanley, and mini-Ace Frehley. Mini-KISS. But that is where the gimmick ended and within minutes I would get progressively pissed at these little motherfuckers.
Even in my drunken state, my mind was still working (albeit slowly). Why is mini-Paul so much taller than the rest of them? Maybe mini-Paul is a dwarf, not a midget? So I concentrated on mini-Paul for awhile until… wait a fucking second! Mini-Paul is a woman! She’s not even a midget woman. She’s full sized! That’s a fucking rip off!
Disgusted, I turned away and started chatting with the group (another woman they knew had showed up as well). After another song or so I turned my attention back to the stage.
That’s when I noticed that mini-Gene was playing a six string. Hmmmm. I hear a bass guitar but mini-Gene isn’t playing it. I guess mini-Ace is playing bass. And as I was turning my head to the other side of the stage I thought, “well if mini-Ace actually plays bass why didn’t he just dress up like mini-Gene… that would have made more sense”. Then my gaze settled on mini-Ace: six string guitar. Hold on a fucking second. I scanned the rest of the stage looking for someone in the shadows playing the thundering bass that I could distinctly hear. Nothing. Then it dawned on me. THESE FUCKING MIDGETS AREN’T PLAYING THEIR INSTRUMENTS! The horror!
I rubbed my eyes in an attempt to sober up. I studied the band even more closely. Well fuck me standing in the rain, mini-Gene is NOT playing that guitar. And mini-Ace isn’t playing his either. He’s riffing solos in a part of the song that is just rhythm. And fuck me, mini-Peter isn’t even playing those fucking drums. He’s not even remotely on beat. Basically, Mini-Kiss was a pre-recording of a decent KISS cover band with a normal sized woman singing real vocals. She was the only one “playing” her instrument (vocals). And she wasn’t even a fucking midget!
I was disgusted. I was betrayed. I spent the ENTIRE next song holding up my middle finger at the band. Fuck them.
But then my middle finger became tired and I realized they weren’t even worth my “fuck you” so I just started drinking again. The freak show wasn’t over, however, because mini-Gene got on the mike and said that we were in for a real big treat because they were going to play their own version of a classic KISS song next. To my horror, mini-Gene’s guitar suddenly came to life for real and the band launched into “New York Groove”.
Let me ask you a question. If you were in a KISS cover band and you were only going to bother learning how to play the guitar part to ONE fucking KISS song… would it be “New York Groove”? For those of you who are not KISS fans I’ll answer for you: NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! That song is fucking stupid. Shit, I’m not even sure it is even a KISS song for that matter… is it really an Ace solo song? This was some horseshit right here.
So here we are, listening to “their version” of “New York Groove”. But wait, it gets worse. Because mini-Gene is playing his guitar (for real), and She-man is singing (for real). But that’s it. There is no other sound. Yet, mini-Peter is “playing” his drums and mini-Ace is “strumming” his guitar. But the fucking sound is turned down on them. How fucked up was this? No more pre-recorded music. Just one guitar playing (poorly) and some fucked up warbling vocals. My mind was blown.
What’s a poor boy like me to do? I started drinking even heavier to drown out this abomination.
I was deep in the throws of my unrecognized case of BDMH by that point and barely noticed that show was finally at an end. One of the last songs they played was “Sweet Child of Mine” by GNR, featuring mini-Ace actually playing the guitar for Slash’s famous opening (mini-Gene was playing make believe again). Figures, mini-Ace can only play one song too and IT ISN’T EVEN A FUCKING KISS SONG!!!!!!!
When their set ended I was booing as loudly as I could and screaming “FUCK YOU” at the top of my lungs. That got a charge out of the audience around me because I think by that time most of them had also realized that we were stood up by the opening band.
Then I got to thinking, I hope NONE of my ticket money is going to these little fucks. Little fucking con artists. BOC better be getting ALL my money. I turned around and realized that there were only going to be about 10,000 people squeezed into Texas Ave. at a maximum. This is far down from the 20,000+ that was at the street festival last year when I saw BOC open for Styx. I began to worry about what BOC would think when they hit the stage. Did they know a fucking little band of con artists that can’t play music was their opening act? Had someone cleared that with them? I was embarrassed on behalf of the city of El Paso. I just hoped BOC could forgive us. The last thing I wanted was for them to say, “Fuck this place” and never come back. Finally, I began to panic: would they even come out on stage at this point? Shit, I couldn’t blame them if they were sitting on a side street, watching that fiasco and decided, “fuck this boys, we’re gone”.
So as my mind was reeling and I was hating on those accursed midgets I didn’t even notice that my crew had led me over to the other side of the audience. It was balls hot where we were standing and they thought it might be cooler more towards the middle of the street. This was the turning point of my night and the final catalyst for what was now a full blown outbreak of BDMH because while I was deep in thought, I met a man who would end up being my best buddy for the rest of the night.
He was 47 years old and from Arizona (I think). He had a little woman up in New Mexico but she couldn’t come down for the show. He was about my height but in much better shape… like he either worked out or he worked good, hard manual labor during the day.
I first met his acquaintance as he was trying to work his magic on the women in our group (he was standing just to the let of us). He’s advances were crude at best and it was pretty apparent to everyone but himself that none of the women were impressed. Even after he invited us to his house after the show to party he could get no takers of the female persuasion. At the time I didn’t question why a man from Arizona had a house in El Paso… I didn’t even question it when he took out his hotel room key later in the night and asked if anyone wanted to go party in his hotel room. But the ladies picked up on it quickly and dubbed him as bad news.
This signal from the women, though, I did get especially after the following conversation:
My new buddy: Hey, I’d like to (fuck) those girls (the ones with me, Jack, and Mike).
Me: I bet!
A few moments later, when his short attention span was distracted elsewhere, I turned to two of the women with us and said:
Me: You know, if you play your cards right you could end up with that guy tonight!
The Girls: (Laughter)
Me: I’m serious, he just told me he wants to fuck you.
The Girls: You’re kidding. He did not.
Me: He most certainly did.
The Girls: (Cackling, slightly nervous, a bit horrified).
It was at that point that I realized I’d have to keep myself between my new buddy and the girls for the rest of the night. No worries.
Somewhere during all this drama, BOC hit the stage. I was pleased that they didn’t just bail on us. That just shows you the kind of stand up guys they are.
They opened with “This Ain’t the Summer of Love” which I thought was strange yet awesome at the same time. After the initial orgasm of rock I realized that Allen Lanier was missing. He is the band’s 3rd guitarist / key board player. There was some slightly overweight, boring looking white guy with bad facial hair in his place. This kind of saddened me because that brought the original BOC number down to just two: Eric Bloom and Buck Dharma. Now, if you were only going to have two left those would be the two you would want, for sure, but still…
In addition, the bass player from last year was missing. In his place was Rudy Sarzo, most famous (in my eyes) for playing with Ozzy for awhile.
But let me tell you, BOC rocked hard, as usual. And all the fuel of beer and hatred of mini-KISS left me in an overly aggressive mood (Ah, the old BDMH). As my buddy and I were sharing stories of how much we loved BOC, something very awesome happened on stage and I ended up punching my buddy in the shoulder as a result. At the time, this seemed like a normal, meatheaded bonding kind of thing. And I was right as my buddy seemed to love it as he returned my punch with a big, old fashioned high five.
So that was the mode of operation for the rest of the show, I would punch my buddy in the shoulder, or grab his shoulders and shake him violently, and he would turn around and give me huge high fives. As the night wore on, my punches got harder and harder but he didn’t seem to mind. We were fast friends.
Song, after song, BOC rocked the crowed out. It was truly a good show (I’ll mention more of it at the end when I post the set list). Mike was desperately waiting to hear “Godzilla” and when it finally came on I swung around and punched him in the shoulder. I think he thought it was a bit odd because our crew is not the meathead type. But he is an old headbanger from the 80’s and I think he had reverted back into that mentality during the show so he didn’t really mind. At one point I tried the same move on Jack, who recoiled in horror as I tried to punch him. Jack is certainly not the meathead type and probably never saw the true West Virginia hillbilly that I am when I’m chocked full of beer and venom. Well, he did that night.
But alas, as quickly as the show started, it seemed to end. Shortly thereafter, I lost touch with my new buddy. Things were moving quickly now as I was to the point in my drunkenness where memory starts to become less than reliable and time moves in strange patterns. We were suddenly back at the bar (which was now closed) and we contemplated continuing the party. But I was tapped out. Between the beer, the heat, all the punching, and getting my ass rocked off I had no more to give.
Another BOC show in the books, complete with massive amounts of beer and rock and roll. It just can’t get better than that.
-David
As promised, here is the set list with a few other thoughts:
1) This Ain’t the Summer of Love
A really interesting choice to open with. At first I thought it an odd choice but quickly realized it was genius.
2) O.D.’d on Life Itself
Fucking awesome song.
3) Burnin’ For You
One of my all time favorites (top 5 for sure)
4) Shooting Shark
Really happy they played this one again this year as last year I had to take a piss during this song. I waited in line for like 25 minutes last year trying to piss. Thank god this song is like 600 minutes long.
5) ME 262
A really nice surprise. Love it.
6) Cities On Flame With Rock And Roll
Probably my all time favorite. FUCKING ROCKED HARD.
7) Golden Age of Leather
Never heard them do this one that I can recall.
8) Last Days of May
Biggest surprise of the concert. I love this song and it sounded GREAT live.
9) Godzilla
You gotta love it. Mike sure does.
10) Don’t Fear the Reaper
The fan favorite. Some knucklehead brought a cowbell with him and fired it up during the song. I wanted to pound that fucktard into the asphalt but he was too far away and I was just too drunk to move.
11) Hot Rails to Hell (encore)
Love the song but this really startled me. This is the first time I can remember that Reaper wasn’t their encore. So they get big points for switching it up. What was even stranger was they let the new Allen Lanier replacement sing the song. I’m not sure why. At the time I wondered if someday Eric or Buck will leave the band and they are grooming this guy to take over the vocal work? Say it ain’t so.
Long Live BOC!
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Don't report this, three men said
First off, I must apologize. August is always a very busy month due to the impending start of the professional football season. There are articles to read, NFL Sunday Ticket subscriptions to secure, and fantasy football research to be done in preparation for late August / early September drafts. That doesn’t even include all the trash talking that must be done.
So I have not been able to concentrate on any kind of writing that is not directly related to the NFL. Since that probably doesn’t interest most people, I try to limit what I publish on that subject in the old blog; That and the fact that I cannot give away any of my fantasy draft secrets prior to draft day.
Tonight, however, I have a few free moments so I can finally mention how fucking lucky I am. You see, Blue Oyster Cult has decided to bless me by coming to El Paso for the second year in a row. It is as if God came down to Earth and kissed me on the tip of my pecker. Last year they played the big 4th of July downtown celebration, opening for Styx. This year, they are again playing an outdoor show downtown but at some sort of Motorcycle and Hot Rod show.
This show was not originally planned in their summer touring schedule so I secretly like to believe that they enjoyed playing for El Paso so much last year they decided to come back when the opportunity arose. That said, I also hope they decided to dig a little deeper into their catalog for this show knowing that we heard all the classics last year.
But even if they play the same show as last year I will be content in having my balls blown off by the wall of rock that is BOC. And I’m very happy about that.
A lot of sun, a lot of bikers, a lot of beer, and a lot of midgets (Mini-KISS is the opening band) ought to blend together to make an incredibly surreal experience. I almost wish I had some mushrooms to ingest before the night begins but then again if I were to do that I doubt I could keep my shit together long enough to even witness BOC in that environment. Maybe its best I stick to my ageless companion, good old, cold beer.
So “Beer’s to you, old amigo”, as Clint and Ray would say. Here is to hoping that your Saturday night is orgasmic as mine.
-David
So I have not been able to concentrate on any kind of writing that is not directly related to the NFL. Since that probably doesn’t interest most people, I try to limit what I publish on that subject in the old blog; That and the fact that I cannot give away any of my fantasy draft secrets prior to draft day.
Tonight, however, I have a few free moments so I can finally mention how fucking lucky I am. You see, Blue Oyster Cult has decided to bless me by coming to El Paso for the second year in a row. It is as if God came down to Earth and kissed me on the tip of my pecker. Last year they played the big 4th of July downtown celebration, opening for Styx. This year, they are again playing an outdoor show downtown but at some sort of Motorcycle and Hot Rod show.
This show was not originally planned in their summer touring schedule so I secretly like to believe that they enjoyed playing for El Paso so much last year they decided to come back when the opportunity arose. That said, I also hope they decided to dig a little deeper into their catalog for this show knowing that we heard all the classics last year.
But even if they play the same show as last year I will be content in having my balls blown off by the wall of rock that is BOC. And I’m very happy about that.
A lot of sun, a lot of bikers, a lot of beer, and a lot of midgets (Mini-KISS is the opening band) ought to blend together to make an incredibly surreal experience. I almost wish I had some mushrooms to ingest before the night begins but then again if I were to do that I doubt I could keep my shit together long enough to even witness BOC in that environment. Maybe its best I stick to my ageless companion, good old, cold beer.
So “Beer’s to you, old amigo”, as Clint and Ray would say. Here is to hoping that your Saturday night is orgasmic as mine.
-David
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Let the pre-season begin!
I’m very excited. In 20 minutes the first pre-season game of 2007 starts and it features none other than the Pittsburgh Steelers taking on the New Orleans Saints.
Since you don’t really watch a pre-season game the same way you do a normal game (the outcome isn’t as important as how your team gels) this is what I’m looking forward to seeing tonight. Or I should say listening to since Time Warner Cable are a bunch of FUCKHEADS and don’t carry the NFL network. Thank god for Sirius satellite radio.
How will the offensive line play? It seems like all the position battles are over but is that true?
What will LaMar Woodley look like? Everyone’s been raving about him so I’d like to see if he can get after the Saint’s QBs.
How will Anthony Smith play? I really want him to start (instead of Ryan Clark).
How will the running backs play? The Pittsburgh Post Gazette is reporting that Kevan Barlow isn’t doing so well in the pre-season so who will be our #3 behind Willie and Najah?
How will the special teams play?
How will Willie Reid look, both on returns and as a wide receiver?
Does it pay to draft a punter in the 4th round? How will Sepulveda (sp?) look?
What will Tomlin’s sideline demeanor be?
And let’s not forgot: Can Deshea Townsend actually hold of Bryant McFadden for the start opposite Ike Taylor? Isn’t Townsend over the hill? Is McFadden a little more mature this year?
Lot’s of excitement to see tonight and I really hope the starting line up isn’t as set as one would think when you read the articles on the internet.
Parting thoughts (what I want to see on the Saints):
What will Reggie Bush do? Will they play him more this year? We probably won’t see much of him or Deuce so tonight probably won’t answer this question. Maybe Deuce will break both his legs and end the suspense of how much time Bush will get this year.
Who will start at WR on the other side of Colsten? Copper? Henderson? Maybe that new rookie Meachem?
Will the Saint’s D improve year over year? How will their LBs do? If the D can play hard this team should be an NFC favorite…
And with that, I need to crack another beer and get ready to go.
Enjoy,
-David
Since you don’t really watch a pre-season game the same way you do a normal game (the outcome isn’t as important as how your team gels) this is what I’m looking forward to seeing tonight. Or I should say listening to since Time Warner Cable are a bunch of FUCKHEADS and don’t carry the NFL network. Thank god for Sirius satellite radio.
How will the offensive line play? It seems like all the position battles are over but is that true?
What will LaMar Woodley look like? Everyone’s been raving about him so I’d like to see if he can get after the Saint’s QBs.
How will Anthony Smith play? I really want him to start (instead of Ryan Clark).
How will the running backs play? The Pittsburgh Post Gazette is reporting that Kevan Barlow isn’t doing so well in the pre-season so who will be our #3 behind Willie and Najah?
How will the special teams play?
How will Willie Reid look, both on returns and as a wide receiver?
Does it pay to draft a punter in the 4th round? How will Sepulveda (sp?) look?
What will Tomlin’s sideline demeanor be?
And let’s not forgot: Can Deshea Townsend actually hold of Bryant McFadden for the start opposite Ike Taylor? Isn’t Townsend over the hill? Is McFadden a little more mature this year?
Lot’s of excitement to see tonight and I really hope the starting line up isn’t as set as one would think when you read the articles on the internet.
Parting thoughts (what I want to see on the Saints):
What will Reggie Bush do? Will they play him more this year? We probably won’t see much of him or Deuce so tonight probably won’t answer this question. Maybe Deuce will break both his legs and end the suspense of how much time Bush will get this year.
Who will start at WR on the other side of Colsten? Copper? Henderson? Maybe that new rookie Meachem?
Will the Saint’s D improve year over year? How will their LBs do? If the D can play hard this team should be an NFC favorite…
And with that, I need to crack another beer and get ready to go.
Enjoy,
-David
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Special Teams
As training camps across the NFL are getting underway, football journalism has kicked into high gear. After wading through the off months where you are lucky to get more than a couple stories a week, you can now log in to any sports web site and get a couple stories an hour. While I’ll read most articles about anything related to the NFL, I snap to attention when an article about the Steelers comes across the wire.
But much to my dismay, most of the articles about the Steelers this pre-season seem to be about either Ben Roethlisberger or our new coach, Mike Tomlin. I guess I can understand focusing on Tomlin because he is the new coach and it is interesting to see the new system he installs. The fixation on our quarterback is what is beginning to piss me off.
How will Ben come back from a sub-par season? How will he avoid all those interceptions this year? Has he already peaked after 3 seasons? And my favorite: The entire fate of the Steelers season lies on whether Big Ben can bounce back or not.
Were these idiots watching the Steelers last season? I agree that turnovers were possibly the biggest killer of our season last year, but it wasn’t Ben’s turnovers I am worried about. A decent amount of his interceptions were either because the receiver fucked up or he was trying to force long bombs at the end of a game where we really did need that kind of a desperation move to try to win the game. In the latter case, on a couple occasions his long interception on 3rd down ended up being no worse than a punt, which is what we would have done on 4th down anyway. I don’t have tape of all games to go back and study but I bet if you eliminated the interceptions that were due to other teammates or those other desperate situations you’d find that he had a very normal rate of interception.
Ben’s turnovers didn’t bother me last year. The ones that pissed me off were all the ones associated with receivers who couldn’t hold on to the ball and the god damned fumbles. And the single most fucked up part of the Steelers last year was not Ben, but those fucking special teams turnovers.
You see, the national media has missed the boat on the Steelers fall from grace last season. It was special teams turnovers and special teams play in general that broke us. A football team can overcome a lot of things but when you get sloppy special teams play you end up taking yourself out of the game. Bad coverage gives your opponent a shorter field. Bad returns give you a longer field. And motherfucking special teams turnovers are the final killer. You just basically give the team that your defense just stomped a free shot at the end zone. How much of a spirit killer is that to know that you are holding them off and then the momentum changes because you give them 1st and goal or 1st with 20 yards to go.
Football isn’t that complex when you strip it completely down. It is simply a game of ground. All those old sayings about football is a game of inches and it’s won in the trenches are around because they are true. You win a football game by controlling the inches. That’s why the Steelers have had so much success in the past with a power running game. You grind away the clock while you grind away the inches. That wins games. And all that hard work isn’t worth a squirt of piss if your special teams come out and give away all your hard earned field position.
I guarantee that the Steelers would have gone at least 11-5 last year rather than 8-8 if we had even average special teams play. But our horrible special teams directly caused us to lose at least 3 games. Those 3 games are the difference between making the playoffs and giving you a chance to make a run for the Lombardi trophy and sitting at home spanking off in January.
So while all other eyes are on Big Ben or coach Tomlin or maybe even the rookies we drafted my eyes are on special teams this summer. Our season this year will go how our special teams go, not how Ben’s season goes.
That said, last week finally brought my first dose of hope that we will indeed return to glory this year. I picked up on a few articles stating that coach Tomlin is dedicating a large portion of his training camp to special teams. He is apparently scheduling entire sessions in his two a days for nothing but the special teams. He is also playing starters on special teams, which I am a big fan of.
So while the national media doesn’t get it I’m so happy that coach Tomlin does because he is the one that counts. More than ever I have faith that he will do a great job with the Steelers. If he and his staff can actually fix those fucked up special teams, they won’t have to worry about any other aspect of the game. The offense will get the job done. The defense will get the job done. Have no worries there. As long as the special teams doesn’t shoot the team in the foot, we’ll do great this year. And I’m glad to see that coach Tomlin seems to be thinking along the same lines.
So I leave you today, optimistic. We will be back in the playoffs this year. You can take that to the bank.
-David
But much to my dismay, most of the articles about the Steelers this pre-season seem to be about either Ben Roethlisberger or our new coach, Mike Tomlin. I guess I can understand focusing on Tomlin because he is the new coach and it is interesting to see the new system he installs. The fixation on our quarterback is what is beginning to piss me off.
How will Ben come back from a sub-par season? How will he avoid all those interceptions this year? Has he already peaked after 3 seasons? And my favorite: The entire fate of the Steelers season lies on whether Big Ben can bounce back or not.
Were these idiots watching the Steelers last season? I agree that turnovers were possibly the biggest killer of our season last year, but it wasn’t Ben’s turnovers I am worried about. A decent amount of his interceptions were either because the receiver fucked up or he was trying to force long bombs at the end of a game where we really did need that kind of a desperation move to try to win the game. In the latter case, on a couple occasions his long interception on 3rd down ended up being no worse than a punt, which is what we would have done on 4th down anyway. I don’t have tape of all games to go back and study but I bet if you eliminated the interceptions that were due to other teammates or those other desperate situations you’d find that he had a very normal rate of interception.
Ben’s turnovers didn’t bother me last year. The ones that pissed me off were all the ones associated with receivers who couldn’t hold on to the ball and the god damned fumbles. And the single most fucked up part of the Steelers last year was not Ben, but those fucking special teams turnovers.
You see, the national media has missed the boat on the Steelers fall from grace last season. It was special teams turnovers and special teams play in general that broke us. A football team can overcome a lot of things but when you get sloppy special teams play you end up taking yourself out of the game. Bad coverage gives your opponent a shorter field. Bad returns give you a longer field. And motherfucking special teams turnovers are the final killer. You just basically give the team that your defense just stomped a free shot at the end zone. How much of a spirit killer is that to know that you are holding them off and then the momentum changes because you give them 1st and goal or 1st with 20 yards to go.
Football isn’t that complex when you strip it completely down. It is simply a game of ground. All those old sayings about football is a game of inches and it’s won in the trenches are around because they are true. You win a football game by controlling the inches. That’s why the Steelers have had so much success in the past with a power running game. You grind away the clock while you grind away the inches. That wins games. And all that hard work isn’t worth a squirt of piss if your special teams come out and give away all your hard earned field position.
I guarantee that the Steelers would have gone at least 11-5 last year rather than 8-8 if we had even average special teams play. But our horrible special teams directly caused us to lose at least 3 games. Those 3 games are the difference between making the playoffs and giving you a chance to make a run for the Lombardi trophy and sitting at home spanking off in January.
So while all other eyes are on Big Ben or coach Tomlin or maybe even the rookies we drafted my eyes are on special teams this summer. Our season this year will go how our special teams go, not how Ben’s season goes.
That said, last week finally brought my first dose of hope that we will indeed return to glory this year. I picked up on a few articles stating that coach Tomlin is dedicating a large portion of his training camp to special teams. He is apparently scheduling entire sessions in his two a days for nothing but the special teams. He is also playing starters on special teams, which I am a big fan of.
So while the national media doesn’t get it I’m so happy that coach Tomlin does because he is the one that counts. More than ever I have faith that he will do a great job with the Steelers. If he and his staff can actually fix those fucked up special teams, they won’t have to worry about any other aspect of the game. The offense will get the job done. The defense will get the job done. Have no worries there. As long as the special teams doesn’t shoot the team in the foot, we’ll do great this year. And I’m glad to see that coach Tomlin seems to be thinking along the same lines.
So I leave you today, optimistic. We will be back in the playoffs this year. You can take that to the bank.
-David
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
My day with the trophy
I can’t remember if I wrote about it before, but this past season I won the fantasy football league I’m currently in. The league known as the TFFL (Teapot Fantasy Football League) is run out of Newell, WV. My team, the Pecos Hillbillies, is the furthest team from the league headquarters but even with all the jet lag my boys managed to lay down a destructive path of whoop ass during last year’s season.
In addition to all the fame and money that comes with being the TFFL champion, there is one other accolade that is second to no other honor in all of sports.
In addition to all the fame and money that comes with being the TFFL champion, there is one other accolade that is second to no other honor in all of sports.
Like the Stanley Cup of the NHL, the TFFL trophy spends the off season with the team until August comes around and it’s time to go into the team’s trophy case to show the whole world who is “The Man”. And spending even a few moments with this legendary trophy is the single most coveted honor on Earth.
As Owner, GM, and Coach of the Hillbillies I chose to take my weekend with the Teapot last… because that’s just the kind of guy I am… so respectful of the team… so giving... Anyhow, let me tell you, its journey through this off season will make all those stories of the Stanley Cup being left by the side of the road and drop kicked into a lake sound like a calm afternoon at Vacation Bible School.
From Donald Driver running cross country nude with the trophy balanced on his head to Rudi Johnson taking it with him on a trip to Mars in a rocket that Billy Bob Thorton made in his backyard. From Marques Colston using it as a tool to single handedly rebuild the entire city of New Orleans to Chris Henry using it to pick up a busload of Jr. High Girls and then turning it into a joint roller for the rest of the night in a remote, Kentucky Holiday Inn. From Maurice Jones-Drew smashing Fred Taylor repeatedly in the knee with it to Kellen Winslow using it to beat a man to death. The trophy’s time with the Hillbillies has been legend.
As Owner, GM, and Coach of the Hillbillies I chose to take my weekend with the Teapot last… because that’s just the kind of guy I am… so respectful of the team… so giving... Anyhow, let me tell you, its journey through this off season will make all those stories of the Stanley Cup being left by the side of the road and drop kicked into a lake sound like a calm afternoon at Vacation Bible School.
From Donald Driver running cross country nude with the trophy balanced on his head to Rudi Johnson taking it with him on a trip to Mars in a rocket that Billy Bob Thorton made in his backyard. From Marques Colston using it as a tool to single handedly rebuild the entire city of New Orleans to Chris Henry using it to pick up a busload of Jr. High Girls and then turning it into a joint roller for the rest of the night in a remote, Kentucky Holiday Inn. From Maurice Jones-Drew smashing Fred Taylor repeatedly in the knee with it to Kellen Winslow using it to beat a man to death. The trophy’s time with the Hillbillies has been legend.
So what did I do with it for my weekend, its final weekend out on the town until next season’s champion is crowned? Well, as your luck would have it I chose to document all the excitement with the help of ESPN The Magazine. These pictures won’t be released until the 8/6/07 issue but I’ll give you a sneak peek of it today on the blog. Enjoy!
As for this upcoming season, I plan to repeat as TFFL champ and also re-start a league of my own. I think I’m closing in on a good number of people but am always looking for a few more great trash talkers. Knowledge of football is optional. Join if you dare…
NFL training camp starts next week so the long drought is finally over!!!! Thank fucking Christ.
-David
-David
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Religion will be the death of us all
It really disturbs me to think that someone would base their vote during a democratic election in the United States based primarily on the religion of the candidate. I imagine that happens all the time as I figure that is also part of the reason that our current incompetent president was elected (and re-elected).
Why would a person’s religious beliefs have anything to do with their ability to execute the job of being a public servant? Why would their religion make them qualified to do the job?
I assume this kind of person would vote that way because they think other religions are immoral. Or maybe inferior? Inadequate? Or maybe they think our democracy is so weak that one evil person could undermine the entire thing?
I know that last one isn’t the case because Bush hasn’t destroyed the world (yet).
What frustrates me about this is that I feel you should vote for a person based on what kind of a job you’ll think they’ll do. And a person’s religion has nothing to do with their job performance. I work with people of different religions and I’ve never been able to draw any conclusions that one religion is better at doing a certain job than another. I just don’t think you will find any data that can support that.
When I vote for a president in the next couple years I can guarantee you that religion will be very low on the list of things I’m looking at. I really don’t care if the president is a Christian or a Jew. For that matter, I really don’t care if they are a Muslim. Does it really matter? Is a Muslim inferior than a Christian as a leader? Is a Jew?
Maybe it’s easy for me to say this because I have no religion so I can’t really align with any candidate based on that belief. So it naturally would fall to the bottom of my list, yes? But I don’t think so. I was raised as a Christian and I think there is still enough Christian residue in me to understand that just because a person is a Christian does not necessarily make him competent.
In the end, I really think that dangerous thoughts and actions like people equating competency with religion will be the death of us all. Having faith in a higher power is one thing but placing all your faith in a human being just solely based on their religious belief seems mighty risky. Many lives have been lost that way in human history and it is only a matter of time before some fanatic does something that really does end it all for all of us. The ironic thing is that it would probably make a lot of people happy because then they would finally get to meet their maker! Maybe it is a self fulfilling prophecy, that tricky book of Revelations?
As for me? I’m not yet ready to give up on this Earth so I’ll vote based on critical thinking, not my religious beliefs.
Won’t you join me?
-David
Why would a person’s religious beliefs have anything to do with their ability to execute the job of being a public servant? Why would their religion make them qualified to do the job?
I assume this kind of person would vote that way because they think other religions are immoral. Or maybe inferior? Inadequate? Or maybe they think our democracy is so weak that one evil person could undermine the entire thing?
I know that last one isn’t the case because Bush hasn’t destroyed the world (yet).
What frustrates me about this is that I feel you should vote for a person based on what kind of a job you’ll think they’ll do. And a person’s religion has nothing to do with their job performance. I work with people of different religions and I’ve never been able to draw any conclusions that one religion is better at doing a certain job than another. I just don’t think you will find any data that can support that.
When I vote for a president in the next couple years I can guarantee you that religion will be very low on the list of things I’m looking at. I really don’t care if the president is a Christian or a Jew. For that matter, I really don’t care if they are a Muslim. Does it really matter? Is a Muslim inferior than a Christian as a leader? Is a Jew?
Maybe it’s easy for me to say this because I have no religion so I can’t really align with any candidate based on that belief. So it naturally would fall to the bottom of my list, yes? But I don’t think so. I was raised as a Christian and I think there is still enough Christian residue in me to understand that just because a person is a Christian does not necessarily make him competent.
In the end, I really think that dangerous thoughts and actions like people equating competency with religion will be the death of us all. Having faith in a higher power is one thing but placing all your faith in a human being just solely based on their religious belief seems mighty risky. Many lives have been lost that way in human history and it is only a matter of time before some fanatic does something that really does end it all for all of us. The ironic thing is that it would probably make a lot of people happy because then they would finally get to meet their maker! Maybe it is a self fulfilling prophecy, that tricky book of Revelations?
As for me? I’m not yet ready to give up on this Earth so I’ll vote based on critical thinking, not my religious beliefs.
Won’t you join me?
-David
Monday, July 2, 2007
Math hates me
Played some pretty damn good poker tonight. Ended up a big loser.
I guess I'll look at it as paying off the math gods... either my dues were up or I'm about to run very hot.
Either way - I'll always be a winner in the long run playing like I did tonight.
-David
I guess I'll look at it as paying off the math gods... either my dues were up or I'm about to run very hot.
Either way - I'll always be a winner in the long run playing like I did tonight.
-David
Friday, June 29, 2007
Steelers: Two views on a new coach
The other day a friend of mine named Fred from back East was visiting. Like me, he is a big Steelers fan so we reflected on the upcoming season.
The problem was that we had two completely different outlooks for Mike Tomlin’s first season as head coach. I believe that making the playoffs is a very realistic possibility. Fred was of the opinion that there was little chance of them making it that far.
It seems the variable that was causing us to disagree so much was the new coach.
Fred thinks things will be far from tight in the beginning of the season with a new coach. New plays, new philosophies, new expectations, etc. will lead us to be out of synchronization and will require a longer period of time before the team gets into a good groove. He’s thinking that by the time we do hit a good stride it will be too late in the season to make a legitimate playoff run.
I think that the new coach will spark excitement and cause the players to work twice as hard in the preseason to be sure that they are ready to go right out of the chute. From what I hear of mini-camps the players seem to be buying into Coach Tomlin’s new way of doing business. In addition, from what I’ve read of the new plans for both defense and offense I’m incredibly excited. Finally, combine that with the players we acquired during the off season and I don’t see why we can’t improve upon our 8-8 finish from last season.
My biggest concern after the draft was running back. But then we signed Kevan Barlow and then re-signed Veron Haynes. While I’m not a huge Kevan Barlow fan, between Najah, Kevan, and Veron I have no problem believing we can have a good back up for Willie if he would get injured.
With that issue finally closed, I move on to my newest concern: The offensive line. It sure doesn’t seem like we’re going to sign Alan Faneca to any kind of long term deal and it also now appears we are not going to trade him. I just hope his anger at the Rooney’s doesn’t cause any kind of disruption within the team during the season. I really think we might be better off just to cut him now even if we can’t trade him. I don’t want any kind of cancer in the locker room. That said, I hope Alan’s not the kind of guy that would resort to that kind of attitude in the locker room but you never know. Why take the chance.
Anyhow, training camp will start in a few weeks and then we can finally see our black and gold in the Hall of Fame game vs the New Orleans Saints on 8/5/07.
So here’s to me being right and Fred being wrong. I don’t recall us making any kind of bet over this disagreement but in retrospect I wish I would have. I really think the Steelers will bounce back from what was a pretty disappointing season last year. And more than even making the playoffs I really just want to be back atop the AFC North. I fucking hate every other team in our division and it makes me sick to my stomach to think any of those fuck-ups would be holding a trophy over our head. Fuck that.
-David
The problem was that we had two completely different outlooks for Mike Tomlin’s first season as head coach. I believe that making the playoffs is a very realistic possibility. Fred was of the opinion that there was little chance of them making it that far.
It seems the variable that was causing us to disagree so much was the new coach.
Fred thinks things will be far from tight in the beginning of the season with a new coach. New plays, new philosophies, new expectations, etc. will lead us to be out of synchronization and will require a longer period of time before the team gets into a good groove. He’s thinking that by the time we do hit a good stride it will be too late in the season to make a legitimate playoff run.
I think that the new coach will spark excitement and cause the players to work twice as hard in the preseason to be sure that they are ready to go right out of the chute. From what I hear of mini-camps the players seem to be buying into Coach Tomlin’s new way of doing business. In addition, from what I’ve read of the new plans for both defense and offense I’m incredibly excited. Finally, combine that with the players we acquired during the off season and I don’t see why we can’t improve upon our 8-8 finish from last season.
My biggest concern after the draft was running back. But then we signed Kevan Barlow and then re-signed Veron Haynes. While I’m not a huge Kevan Barlow fan, between Najah, Kevan, and Veron I have no problem believing we can have a good back up for Willie if he would get injured.
With that issue finally closed, I move on to my newest concern: The offensive line. It sure doesn’t seem like we’re going to sign Alan Faneca to any kind of long term deal and it also now appears we are not going to trade him. I just hope his anger at the Rooney’s doesn’t cause any kind of disruption within the team during the season. I really think we might be better off just to cut him now even if we can’t trade him. I don’t want any kind of cancer in the locker room. That said, I hope Alan’s not the kind of guy that would resort to that kind of attitude in the locker room but you never know. Why take the chance.
Anyhow, training camp will start in a few weeks and then we can finally see our black and gold in the Hall of Fame game vs the New Orleans Saints on 8/5/07.
So here’s to me being right and Fred being wrong. I don’t recall us making any kind of bet over this disagreement but in retrospect I wish I would have. I really think the Steelers will bounce back from what was a pretty disappointing season last year. And more than even making the playoffs I really just want to be back atop the AFC North. I fucking hate every other team in our division and it makes me sick to my stomach to think any of those fuck-ups would be holding a trophy over our head. Fuck that.
-David
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Favorite Songs
If I had to rank the list of my 4 year old daughter’s favorite songs it would go a little something like this:
1) Our House – Madness
2) Rosanna – Toto
3) Hocus Pocus – Focus
4) Godzilla – Blue Oyster Cult
5) Bombs Over Baghdad – Outkast
6) We’re Not Gonna Take It – Twisted Sister
She’s got quite a taste in music and as soon as she realizes that that Saxon is a great band I’ll view my job as a father complete.
-David
1) Our House – Madness
2) Rosanna – Toto
3) Hocus Pocus – Focus
4) Godzilla – Blue Oyster Cult
5) Bombs Over Baghdad – Outkast
6) We’re Not Gonna Take It – Twisted Sister
She’s got quite a taste in music and as soon as she realizes that that Saxon is a great band I’ll view my job as a father complete.
-David
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
My buddy cop movie
I’ve got an idea for a buddy cop movie and I’m looking for financial backing. It’s going to star Wings Hauser and Tim Thomerson.
I think I’ll be able to whip out the script this weekend because I’m going to rent Lethal Weapon 1 through 7 and pretty much just rip them off. The only unique twist to my version will be that there will be no Danny Glover part. It’ll pretty much be two Mel Gibson’s. Or maybe a Mel Gibson and a Howlin’ Mad Murdock. Whatever you call it both characters will pretty much be fuck ups.
At least one of them will be a raging alcoholic. At least one of them will be a degenerate gambler. Of course they’ll both need to be divorced since they are cops.
They won’t be corrupt cops…. I’m saving that role for James Woods. I don’t really like him (actually I think he’s a big dick), but I feel bad for him financially since he’s a bad poker player with a fine looking 20 year old girlfriend. So if he runs out of cash his only source of poontang will end up coming from blowing guys for money so he can pay for tranny hookers. Even James Woods doesn’t deserve that fate.
Nick Nolte will play their Sergeant. Or maybe he’ll play the villain. Or maybe he’ll play a tranny hooker? Not sure about him yet.
Also I want to reprise the character of James Rockford so if James Gardner is still alive he’ll have a role. I’m sure he’ll be a train wreck trying to play Rockford at the ripe old age of 90 (or whatever he is) but it’ll probably be the only way I’ll get to use the Rockford Files theme song as the theme song for my movie. And that is my main goal.
After the first movie, I’ll have a sequel that has our heroes going to jail (wrongly imprisoned of course). That will feature a whole new cast of zany characters and also a lot of anal rape.
So that’s about it. If you have any cash and are looking for an investment opportunity let me know.
-David
PS: All kidding aside I really do wish Wings and Tim would get more work. They are fucking studs.
I think I’ll be able to whip out the script this weekend because I’m going to rent Lethal Weapon 1 through 7 and pretty much just rip them off. The only unique twist to my version will be that there will be no Danny Glover part. It’ll pretty much be two Mel Gibson’s. Or maybe a Mel Gibson and a Howlin’ Mad Murdock. Whatever you call it both characters will pretty much be fuck ups.
At least one of them will be a raging alcoholic. At least one of them will be a degenerate gambler. Of course they’ll both need to be divorced since they are cops.
They won’t be corrupt cops…. I’m saving that role for James Woods. I don’t really like him (actually I think he’s a big dick), but I feel bad for him financially since he’s a bad poker player with a fine looking 20 year old girlfriend. So if he runs out of cash his only source of poontang will end up coming from blowing guys for money so he can pay for tranny hookers. Even James Woods doesn’t deserve that fate.
Nick Nolte will play their Sergeant. Or maybe he’ll play the villain. Or maybe he’ll play a tranny hooker? Not sure about him yet.
Also I want to reprise the character of James Rockford so if James Gardner is still alive he’ll have a role. I’m sure he’ll be a train wreck trying to play Rockford at the ripe old age of 90 (or whatever he is) but it’ll probably be the only way I’ll get to use the Rockford Files theme song as the theme song for my movie. And that is my main goal.
After the first movie, I’ll have a sequel that has our heroes going to jail (wrongly imprisoned of course). That will feature a whole new cast of zany characters and also a lot of anal rape.
So that’s about it. If you have any cash and are looking for an investment opportunity let me know.
-David
PS: All kidding aside I really do wish Wings and Tim would get more work. They are fucking studs.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
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