Some days, one just feels like monkeyshit. I wasn’t hungover, I don’t think actually sick, I DID remember to take my anti-crazy pills in the morning…so, who knows. Maybe just the pressure of living in this fucking Darkest Timeline.
But STILL, I was up in time for MANDATORY WATCH DUTIES. What did we see? Well, a first quarter with Duval Utd. having the lion’s share of the ball, and seemingly unlucky to only be up 3-nil. Chi**** ran 6 plays for 7 total yards. Then? The rest of the game happened. Caleb broke the fuck out (in a big way), Swift ran all over the pitch (like a true box-to-box CM), and the defense harrassed Prison Girlfriend relentlessly.
Festivities ended 35-16, and only because the Bearistocrats! didn’t need any MOAR. The Transatlantic Legend of White Mac even oversaw a 3-and-out of his own.
Six in the early afternoon, and this is where my brain decided to drift. NEVAR fell asleep, but much of the watching was by listening. YES, I feel great and abiding shame. But really, it was sufficient for this slate. Most games were terrible, even if close.
Presumed illiterate Drake Maye made his debut, and the 500s smacked him around a good bit. He made a few good throws, but this was a 2+ score Houston lead 90% of the way. Beatie Mixon returned, going over a buck-thirty from scrimmage, but 2 total TDs. From your bench, or at least MINE. 41-21 is your Foxboro final.
MRSA ran out to a 17-zip lead in the KatrinaDome, which you’d assume would suffice – with Rattlesnake Kid making his first NFL start (as a 5th round rook). You;d be wrong (ok, I was wrong), as N’Awlins roared back with a 27-point Q2 to take a lead into halftime. That was all they’d manage, though. Baker, Baker was indeed a turnover maker (3 picks), but also 4 TDs and a 9.0 YPA. That’ll do, pig. That’ll do. 51-27, Bucs cruise late and then pile on in garbage time.
Green Bay beat the tar shit out of the Qards, 34-13. Wee Kyler didn’t exactly get much/any help (outside of McBride), but man. That organization is fucked six ways to Sunday. And Sunday is when they almost always play, OUCH. Jordan Love spread the wealth, and they look on track for a 4-way battle in the NFC North.
Iggles/#ThePauls was close, but a complete shitshow. Sirianni shaved his head, wore a shortsleeve hoodie (???) on the sideline, but the lunkhead still understands fuck shit about leverage or game theory. Up 10-3, facing 3rd and 1 at the CLE 30…he calls a deep shot, resulting in a sack. Then he bizarrely decides to try a 58-yard FG, Myles Garrett blocks it, and they run it all the way back for 6. Tied 10-10 at the half, and it stayed tight the rest of the way (because the offense was gun shy and/or ineffective). But Cleveland being Cleveland, they botched first down inside the Philly 5, then BLEERGH’d back into kicking a FG for the 20-16 final (as Philly played keep-away for the final 4:00).
Winner gets…the Beltway? The George Washington Bridge? I dunno, but the old hand Ratbirds got a working margin and refused the relinquish it, winning 30-23. That Lamar!/Tractorcito punch combination is hard to chase down from behind. So it would prove for the Commies, though still way ahead of their Five Year Plan. Zay had hisself a day (9/132), but it all came in the first half. WEIRD.
The ELITE Fat Humps went on the road , and won in Nashville, 20-17. Tits coach Callahan went kind of gutless, punting on 4th and 7 with 2:20 to play. One first down would end the game, and Flacco got it. Then again, with Will Levis as your quartered back? A muffed punt was probably their best bet.
Speaking of Levis, Denver produced similar offensing, until garbage time made things deceptively close-ish. The competitive portion? Clippers win in Mile High, 23-nil. But 23-16 looks better in the box score. Very poor game.
But hey, it could always be worse. The litany of blooper-reel dumbassery by the Raiders was just…unreal. This had to be Mike Tomlin’s perfect day. The pure, unadulterated joy of a man watching his opponent shoot itself in the dick, again and again and again. May you one day experience joy of that magnitude. 32-13, Yinzers.
But hey, it could always be worse. Detroit took a 47-9 lead over the Cowpersons. In JerralWorld. EARLY in Q4. While trying – repeatedly – to run trick plays to let their offensive linemen score. It was almost poetic, truly. By the time everyone was bored, it limped across the finish line at that very same 47-9,
The only late home side not to shit the pitch? Shockingly, the Black Panthers. Not that they won, mind. But they were at least competitive until Sherman’s Ashes pulled away late. Not sure I have anything to say about this match, otherwise. It ends, 38-20.
Sunday Night FITBAW? Bungles at the Vertically Enhanced Persons. Seriously. That’s how we end the MANDATORIUM, despite almost zero competitive action since like 3:30 EST. And the game itself…just goddamned terrible. At least through 1.5 quarters. I’mma watch the end of this schiesse in bed.
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