“Hey Shogun Marcus, what’s with the Captain BlueBunny?”

First of all, who are you, who sent you, and how do you know my name? Actually I don’t care. Sit down and tell me if this rag smells like ether. All good? Ok.

Captain BlueBunny is my name for Mike McCarthy. Blue Bunny is a midwest ice cream brand. The name was born two summers ago during training camp. Then Future Lady Shogun was working at the stadium on a weekend shooting commercials for her employer, a top-level sponsor with several players on the payroll. During the lunch break Lady Shogun was enjoying the weather walking through the gated player/coach lot where what should she see? A certain coach, huddled in his Suburban/Yukon whatever guiltily mowing down ice-cream sammiches away from prying, judging eyes like he was waiting for his underage craigslist hookup to arrive. This was also the one and only (at least from what my limited research reveals) year the apparel store had what can only be described as old-timey Gorton’s fisherman rain hats. The coaching staff wore them for one preseason game, which appropriately had a storm and goldang it if McCarthy didn’t look like Fat Ahab. So there you go.

Now what of this year. Well if I’m going to stick with the boat metaphors, Captain Bluebunny is trying to slalom a garbage barge like a powerboat through an ice field blindfolded while his first mate (that’d be DC Capers) directs him using the pop-o-matic from Trouble. In years past the crew has been strong enough to overcome some of the more Valdez-ian decisions. Not so much this year. Injury has been an exceptionally cruel mistress and the crew have been steadily diving off for the relative safety of passing icebergs. The crew is now largely comprised of swabbies whose nautical knowledge consists of water is wet and boats float. To wit:

The leading rusher is the franchise quarterback. Running for your life will do that. The AVN awards have fewer holes than the O-Line. There is no running game. At all. Receiver-wise you’ve got Jordy on first year back with new ligaments, Cobb who has some sort of mystery ailment (hammy) that keeps him suited up but why bother, and Adams who’s either brilliant or born without arms. They and the tight ends (whoever the hell they are) all couldn’t run routes even if the templates were displayed on the field like in Madden.

Then there’s the defense. For years now I’ve been stunned at all the adulation and hushed respect Dom Capers has gotten. I’m sorry, I know he’s seen as some sort of mystic guru of defending ball entry, but I’ve just never seen it. There’s been sparks of brilliance, but nothing firestarting. Genuinely good starting talent is getting killed and squandered under his watch. The run defense started strong, but is being ground to dust. You couldn’t identify the secondary even if they were legally required to knock on your door if they moved next door. The linebackers are exhausted from having to be DB’s and safeties and so can’t get to the QB’s. Special teams was adequate for the most part until the last few weeks where they went from cromulent to speshul.

Where does this lead? Honestly I hope they don’t make the playoffs. I’ve no need to watch the same slo-mo car crash yet again. Let someone else do it. This team needs and deserves a hard slap of reality. Most of this year has been the back half of Flowers for Algernon. The pitchforks and torches are being prepped by the reasonable denizens, demanding the head of Captain Bluebunny and GM Sling Blade. I don’t share their zeal (yet). It’s been a bad year to be sure, and signs don’t point up. But scuttling the ship seems excessive. Dry-dock it for the winter and give it a thorough overhaul. Personally, sacrificing the first mate to the gods wouldn’t make me sad.

Packers 2016 Summary (borrowing from local radio): “With the 7th pick of the 2017 draft…”

/who am i kidding, sling blade would trade that for 4 7th rounders and a box of crackling oat bran.