Week 2, In Which Your Hosts Attempt To Retain Their Sanity

Longtime readers (and, let’s face the sad fact, anyone who has set next to us on a bus) know that we have little patience for NFL announcers. (And it isn’t just NFL announcers—it’s television reporters and anchors in general. If you really want to have fun, mention Diane Sawyer to us sometime. Pack a lunch when you do, though, because we’ll take a while.) There are a few announcers that we like, such as Dan Dierdorf, Ron Jaworski, Dan Fouts, and, believe it or not, the NFL Network crew of Bryant Gumble and Cris Collinsworth, and there are several that we tolerate simply because they are “institutions,” such as John Madden and Al Michaels. But most of these guys are, in our experience, goofballs with a capital GOOF who couldn’t explain p*ss out of a boot, as the old expression almost goes.

Jerome Bettis, for example, is to all appearances a nice guy and a heck of a football player. We were all thrilled that he won a Super Bowl before he retired, and he’ll go into the Hall of Fame very, very soon. But even a cursory glance at his Chunky Soup commercials could have told the folks at NBC that skill as a football player doesn’t necessarily translate into skill as a communicator on television. And if anything, his performance so far on Football Night in America (and who came up with that jewel of a name?) has been even worse than his soup commercials. He sits, looking bulky and uncomfortable in his studio barcalounger, trying to explain why a running back with godawful statistics is really having a good game, and it’s painful to watch.

Which we point out simply to show that, even if we tend to focus on a few bad apples, we actually believe mediocrity and stupidity are the norm among television’s football announcers.

Which is our nice way of saying, “Damn, but we are sick and damned tired of Tony G*ddamned Kornheiser.” (Forgive us our language.) We’re only at Week Two, and we’re already wistfully remembering the good old days of Paul Maguire. Paul Maguire, for crying out loud! We have had a hate going for Paul Maguire since the 80s, folks. We thought Paul Maguire was the nadir. We didn’t think it possible that an announcer could irritate us more than he. We thought he was absolute f*cking zero.

But no. In two short weeks (plus a couple of preseason appearances), Tony Kornheiser has made us miss Paul Maguire. Frankly, if you told us that we’d ever miss Paul Maguire, we would have called you insane. If you had bet us, we would have put up any amount of money. We would have offered the pink slips to our cars, the deeds to our houses. We would have agreed to perform any disgusting or aberrational acts, simply because we knew we could never, never rue the day that Paul Maguire was removed from our televisions.

The straw that broke our little camel back of credulity occurred late in Monday night’s game. We watched the overwhelming bulk of the game with the sound turned down so low that we couldn’t hear it clearly. (We have learned this self-defense mechanism, at least.) For some reason that we cannot recall, at one point in the fourth quarter we had turned the volume up loud enough for us to hear clearly what the announcers were saying. Before we realized that it was Kornheiser’s voice we were hearing and could hit our mute buttons in a reflexive act of self-preservation, we listened.

May God have mercy on our souls, we listened.

And we heard Tony! Tony! Tony! tell us all about how Jacksonville beating the Pittsburgh Steelers on Monday night meant that they had finally arrived. After all, he helpfully pointed out to us, no one but the “cognescenti” knew much about the Jaguars, but now, thanks to their masterful performance on ESPN’s Monday Night Football, which is evidently required viewing for all of the civilized world, they would be known and recognized outside of their little north Florida habitat.

We were stunned. We were aghast. We were… Well, we were… We aren’t sure what all we were, but it wasn’t a pretty sight, let us tell you.

First, while we love the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake, and God knows we aren’t afraid of throwing an erudite word or two into our labyrinthine sentences, even so, the word “cognescenti” should never—and we mean never—be used in an NFL telecast. That’s just wrong, folks.

Second, how insulted should most casual NFL fans, who know perfectly well who the Jacksonville Jaguars are, be now that they know that Tony Kornheiser thinks that only the elite, the top drawer, the apex, the acme of NFL knowledge could know anything about this backwater team? And how insulted must Jacksonville residents feel, knowing that Tony Kornheiser thinks that their little city is two steps removed from Mayberry, RFD?

We are sorry that we slipped. We promise better control in the future. We don’t want this exercise to devolve into Kornheiser-bashing—tempting though that may be. We want to spread light and sunshine and hatred of Tom Coughlin… We can’t let our thorough disgust for this lackwit obscure our mission.

We will do better. We’ll keep the sound turned down when the announcers we truly despise are on. (We’ll still listen to Solomon Wilcots. Frankly, he amuses the sh*t out of us.) While this means we won’t have regular Tony Kornheiser jokes, it does mean that we won’t have a massive stroke before our 43rd birthday.

Which would be a total b*tch, we think.

And now, onto the games…

Buffalo @ Miami: A quarterback is sacked seven times as his team is b*tch-slapped around the field. We don’t think any of us were surprised by that. We do think, though, that most of us were surprised that it wasn’t JP Losman.

Cleveland @ Cincinnati: Chad, Chad, Chad. There are only so many spots on the All-Prick Team. We can’t recognize every WR in the league, no matter how pricky they may be. The only thing keeping you off the list, my friend, is the knowledge that it’s hard to be a prick when you’re chicken dancing. And no, we aren’t talking about the end zone dance—we’re talking about the World’s Largest Chicken Dance. Check out that lineup of previous chicken dance leaders. Tony Orlando? Eddie Money? Vince Neil? Davy Jones? We have ruled in the past that one cannot be a prick and a goofball simultaneously, and Chad is definitely crossing the border of Goofball Land. However, we do admit, if there is an athlete in the NFL who could be that long-awaited but never-before-seen double threat Goofy Prick Ball, Chad may very well be it.

Tampa Bay @ Atlanta: We had planned to make the latest in our series of scathingly brilliant Chris Simms jokes here, probably again balancing on the comic crux of his father’s over-protectiveness. But then we came across this information, and we couldn’t resist inserting it here.

It’s not like the game was good or anything. Michael Vick did his usual “reinventing the role of the quarterback” blah blah blah (which we have come to the conclusion is a nice way for “experts” to say, “OK, we were wrong, he’ll never be a great quarterback, but damn, he sure does run purty”). Warrick Dunn ran for a bunch of yards. Yada yada yada. So you can see, Chris Simms jokes really are the only thing to shoot for here.

Houston @ Indianapolis: Speaking of shooting, we find ourselves wishing someone would shoot a few Texans. We don’t particularly care which ones—we just want to shake up the team.

New York Giants @ Philadelphia: We found ourselves doubting our crusade against Tom “I May Not Be The Prince Of Darkness, But I Am A Highly Placed Darkness Dignitary” Coughlin. We felt alone, disillusioned, bereft, as if ours were the only voices raised in outrage that this “man” (and we use that term so loosely that we are starting to lose our grip on the basic concept it denotes) should continue to find himself (itself?) earning money and, we presume, respect as a head coach in the NFL. In short, we doubted our very mission here at the Weekly NFL Update.

And the result? Plexiglass Burress catches an improbable pass on the last play of the game to lift the Giants above the superior Philadelphia Eagles. In that moment, as we saw Plexiglass preen and pose for the cameras (even to the point of removing his helmet, which he wasn’t supposed to do), we realized the folly of our despair.

We apologize, Weekly NFL Update readers. It was our lack of faith that allowed the Evil One to prosper on Sunday. But don’t worry. We won’t let it happen again.

Note: We were amused to learn that another Tom Coughlin sits amid the spreading ripples of evil. This time, it was a high level executive with Wal-Mart, a corporation that we despise with almost as much fervor as the Evil One himself. Since we tend to close our eyes, put our fingers in our ears, and chant “LALALALALA” whenever we see or hear the word Wal-Mart, we didn’t know about this incident from last year. We now find ourselves wondering if the very name Tom Coughlin is evil…

Oakland @ Baltimore: Again, we find ourselves frustrated with our warring inner factions. (And yes, it is every bit as painful as it sounds, thank you very much.) We are pleased to see Steve McNair win. (We’d prefer to see him play a bit better than he did, but we’ll take what we can get.) But seeing the Baltimore defense—as prick-intensive a group of people as has ever existed on the face of planet Earth—in ascendance is distressing. Next week, they’re playing Cleveland… Damn, damn, damn…

Good news for Raiders fans, though—Aaron Brooks’ injury came a little earlier than expected. (It’s Christmas in September!) Now is the time, Andrew Walter. Seize your destiny, man! Seize it!

Detroit @ Chicago: We noticed a nifty item in our San Antonio News-Express on Monday. (We’d link to it, but our San Antonio News-Express does not believe in actually putting useful information on their website.) Roy Williams, who has received quite a bit of abuse for his “guarantee” that the Lions would beat Chicago, was quoted as saying the following after the game:

“He [Brian Urlacher] just said, ‘You’re going to guarantee next week as well?’ and I said, ‘Yeah, sure will. As long as we do what we’re supposed to do.’ They did nothing special.”

We are reminded—simultaneously—of two distinct pop culture references. The first is the immortal line from Inigo Montoya: “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

The second is, of course, a Seinfeld reference:

JERRY: So, when do I get my dinner?
KRAMER: There’s no dinner. The bet’s off. I’m not gonna do it.
JERRY: Yes, I know you’re not gonna do it. That’s why I bet.
KRAMER: Ya well, there’s no bet if I’m not doing it.
JERRY: That’s the bet! That you’re not doing it!
KRAMER: Yeah, well, I could do it. I don’t wanna do it.
JERRY: We didn’t bet on if you wanted to. We bet on if it would be done.
KRAMER: And it could be done.
JERRY: Well, of course it could be done! Anything could be done! But it only is done if it’s done! Show me the levels! The bet is the levels!
KRAMER: I don’t want the levels!
JERRY: That’s the bet!

New Orleans @ Green Bay: This week’s winner of the Robert Johnson Award is Brett Favre. In his song, “Dead Shrimp Blues,” Robert Johnson describes the pain and frustration of knowing that, no matter how much he loves his woman, she is still unfaithful to him:

I woke up this morning and all my shrimps was dead and gone
I woke up this morning and all my shrimps was dead and gone
I was thinkin’ about you baby, why you hear me weep and moan
I got dead shrimps here, someone is fishin’ in my pond
I got dead shrimps here, someone fishin’ in my pond
Catchin’ my goggle-eye perches and they barbecuin’ the bone
[and we all know how painful that can be]

Brett, we hear your mournful plea. We know that you threw the best shrimps you had on Sunday, but your fellow Packers were just fishin’ in your pond and barbecuin’ your bone. We understand, and we hope that your Robert Johnson Award can give you at least some token solace.

Carolina @ Minnesota: DeAngelo Williams looked pretty good on a couple of runs there for Carolina, but he poses a problem for us. If the two RBs for Carolina are named DeAngelo and DeShaun, doesn’t that set a pattern that we should follow through with? Aren’t we duty-bound now to refer to DeSteve Smith, DeKeyshawn Johnson, and DeJulius Peppers? And what about Jake Delhomme? Does the “Del” satisfy the requirement? Or is he DeJake? (We kind of like the sound of that.)

And speaking of Brad Childress, does he remind anyone else of a character in a Christmas special? If so, could you please drop us a line? It’s driving us crazy. We know we’ve seen that face in claymation, but we can’t place it…

Commercial Break: Is it just us, or is the Gatorade commercial featuring the kids with humongous athlete heads disturbing? Seeing those kids running around with their freaky big heads, frankly, creeps us out. Granted, we are not within Gatorade’s targeted demographic (we tend to believe that if you’re working so hard that hydration is an issue, well, friends, then you’re just working too hard), but even so, is there anyone out there who thinks these kids with their monster huge heads are anything other than mutant freaks of nature who should probably be culled from the herd before they can mature and reproduce, assuming they could reproduce with those freaky big heads?



Scary stuff, kids.

St Louis @ San Francisco: Each week, we struggle for words when it comes to the NFC West dog game of the day. Don’t misunderstand—we are fans, baby of the NFL and we will watch any dog game that is broadcast, as long as there isn’t another game on. If the Rams-Niners game were the night game, for example, we’d have watched it. But there were three other good games running in the late afternoon slot this weekend, so we didn’t even pretend to watch this one.

So, instead, we’ll offer you our favorite joke: This guy walks into a psychiatrist’s office with a duck on his head. The psychiatrist looks up and says, “Can I help you?” And the duck says, “Yeah, can you get this guy off my ass?”

New England @ New York Jets: Eric “Three Cheese” Mangini* must be awfully proud and yet at the same time just freaking insane this week. His Jets came very close to dethroning Tom “Golden Boy” Brady, but just fell short. And yet… What are the newspapers reporting this week? The fact that Three Cheese and Bill “Funny Shirts” Belichick didn’t make out on the field after the game. Poor guy… One of these days, when he’s older, he’ll understand.

* We now think of Eric Mangini as “Three Cheese” because, to us, Mangini sounds like a menu item at our local Olive Garden, and knowing the way we like our Olive Garden entrees, it would have to have three cheeses before we’d order it. (And we’d also give the waiter our customary look of “How stupid do you think we are?” when he asked, “Would you like some grated parmesan on that?” We operate under the philosophy that there is no circumstance in life where one should decline an offer of cheese.)

Tennessee @ San Diego: How rough is Vince Young? He actually made Kerry Collins looked poised. But as the game wore on, he got better and better (the constant laughter was taking its toll on the Charger defense). We actually hope that the Titans throw caution to the wind and start playing Vince. He can’t be worse than Kerry Collins. (We mean that literally—we’ve done the math.) But he can be much more entertaining, particularly to those of us in the smart ass biz.

Kansas City @ Denver: We love when Kansas City and Denver play. Generally, we are fans of the AFC West, and we feel that AFC West teams always play each other very closely, even when the teams themselves are light years apart in terms of ability. So we expected a good, close game this weekend between these two teams. But we didn’t expect this snooze fest. We love good defense as much as the next guys, but we also like to see a touchdown every once in a while. KC had a good excuse (Damon Huard), but Denver? Come on, Mike! We gave you the Robert Johnson Award last week! Don’t let us down again, or our wrath will be horrible.

Arizona @ Seattle: This guy walks into a psychiatrist’s office with a duck on his… Damn, we already did that one, didn’t we? OK, we’ll have to trot out the nun joke. We didn’t want to have to do this, but we’d rather have you sit through an ookie nun joke than have ourselves sit through the Cardinals and the Seahawks.

Three nuns were walking down the street when a flasher exposed himself to them. Well, the first nun had a stroke. And the second nun had a stroke. But the third nun wouldn’t touch it.

Whew.

Commercial Break: Memo to product development folks at TGI Fridays: Stop screwing around with appetizers! Fried green beans? Fried mac & cheese? Taking a bunch of crap out of different pots in the kitchen and deep frying it doesn’t make it into “an appetizer.” Frankly, TGI Fridays people, you are reminding us too much of Uncle Moe’s Family Feedbag, as seen in The Simpsons:

Moe: If you like good food, good fun, and a whole lot of...crazy crap on the walls, then come on down to Uncle Moe's Family Feedbag.
Announcer: At Moe's, we serve good old-fashioned home cooking deep fried to perfection.
[Moe submerges a whole tray covered with food, utensils, etc., in the deep fryer]
[he takes the fried tray to a couple, who break off pieces and give him the thumbs-up]
Moe: Now that's Moe like it! So bring the whole family. Mom, Dad, kids -- er, no old people. They're not covered by our insurance. It's fun! And remember our guarantee: if I'm not smiling when your check comes, your meal's on me.{ Uncle Moe's!}
{[smiles right into the camera]}
Singers: {Come to Uncle Moe's for family fun, it's good, good, good, good, good good-good!} Homer: Mmm. Sounds good.

Trust us, TGI Fridays people—when you start doing the things that satirists dreamed up years ago, you are losing touch with reality.

Washington @ Dallas: Let us get this straight. David Pollack, linebacker for the Cincinnati Bengals, breaks his freaking neck in a game and—fortunately—will only miss the season. Terrell Owens, on the other hand, breaks a finger, and will miss two to four weeks. And which of these stories is the lead on ESPN’s Sportscenter?

In fact, we just did a Google search for “Terrell Owens breaks his finger,” and Google offered us 318,000 hits. We searched next for “David Pollack breaks his neck,” and Google offered us only 111,000. What was the first one? Do you have to ask?

We laugh, and yet we weep. (And yes, we are saying that a lot these days.)

Pittsburgh @ Jacksonville: Much to his great surprise, Jeff Hartings wasn’t struck by lightning during this game. We understand that he keeps careful track of weather reports, though, and we wouldn’t be surprised if, on some Sunday afternoon when thunderstorms are expected in the Three Rivers area, Jeff “pulls a muscle” in the pre-game warm-ups. (Wink, wink.)

Also, we noted with some surprise that Ben Roethlisberger’s website promotes his beef jerky, which we are certain is very tasty indeed, particularly if we agree that the word “tasty” means “having a distinct flavor, though not necessarily pleasant.” However, the ad says his jerky comes in “2 great flavors,” and frankly, we are doubtful.

When we think of beef jerky, we think of a “food” product that was developed so that a cowboy could jam it into a leather bag, strap it to the back of his sweating, grunting horse (so sue us—we don’t like horses), and ride through the desert. When he’d stop at the end of the day, or the week, he’d reach into that dank, festering leather bag and pull out a hank of jerky, on which he would gnaw for an hour or so before slipping off into whatever fitful, tortured sleep he could get on those freezing desert nights. Weeks, months later, he’d still be gnawing on that same hank of jerky, and it would taste very much on the last day as it did on the first.

It took some doing to develop a “food” that could endure such hardship; unfortunately, one of the sacrifices in that development was taste. (If it’s wretched on day one, then on day fifty-four, that wretchedness is a little more palatable.) (It’s a wretchedness that grows on you, in other words.)

From our beef jerky experience—granted, not that extensive—we believe that having even one flavor that could be termed “great” is a stretch. Having two such flavors, we think, is simply impossible. We became even more skeptical when we visited the site for Big Ben’s XL Beef Jerky and discovered that one of those two flavors is “teriyaki.” Very little good has ever come out of adding “teriyaki” to anything.

But we admit to a slight bias here against beef jerky. And horses.

And, apparently, cowboys, though we never really realized that before.