A remarkably condensed FITBAW day, what with no Euro-fixture, plus a non-mandatory puppy abortion SNF that I will not even mention in passing (I turned the TV off after the 4p window).

It was “backs against the wall” for the 1-5, still-Lamar!-less Ratbirds.  This week, they stood firm and pushed away from the abyss.  Caleb Williams was back to his putrid self, as opposed to the shit-but-within-limits form during their 4-game win streak.  Baltimore controlled things in all phases of the game, winning 30-16.  It was a close-ish margin most pof the game, but still convincing.

Philly got quick revenge for their loss to the VEP, pulling away late for a 38-20 margin.  New York kind of got boned on a quick whistle on a 4th and 1 Hurts sneak, when they really should have had a really impressive defensive strip/takeaway.  Daboll Reacted Reasonably.  Going from bad to worse…JEEBUS, the horrifying incident with sk8rboi’s ankle.  We won’t be calling his name until 2026 at the earliest, poor fucker.  It wasn’t looking like a happy funtime year for the VEP under any circumstances, but the wheels might really fall off now.  Saquon tweaked his hammy late Q3, too – but had a monster game in the books already.  You can’t predict which Iggles will go off any given week, just that someone(s) will.

PRAY FOAR REDSHIRT, y’all.  WKRP had the following leads, at home to the 0-7 Jest – 10-0, 17-3, 24-10, 31-16, 38-24.  And then lost, allowing Strawberry Fields and pals a 23-point Q4.  They even finally pulled off the analytics play that blows former players’ minds, going for 2 on the “first” TD of a 2-TD deficit.  VAR overturned the original ruling that they didn’t break the plane, so it was 38-32.  Inside the 5, Breece Hall made the play of his career, faking a HB option pass, juking, then tossing a jump ball to the back of the end zone at the last possible moment.  Mason Taylor caught it, a shellshocked Mister Elite couldn’t answer and Cincy’s season ends.  39-38, reads the grave marker.

Atlanta welcomed the LOLfins for the expected ass-kicking, which indeed played out.  Just with the roles completely reversed, as Dingleberry was rusty as fuck, “Scott Baio Gave Me Pinkeye” Tua went nuclear, with the 34-10 margin deceptively close thanks only to garbage time.  If anyone ever figures out the Falcons as a franchise, please let the rest of the class know.

Locals had an inkling that maybe the Black Panthers were…not exactly catching Buffalo at a great time.  With a couple of medium-bad losses, Brokeback and company did indeed come in focused, and Red Rocket sprayed loose balls all over the pitch.  It was an absolute pistol-whipping, 40-9 Bills Mafia.  Not much more really to be said.

Myles Garrett was an absolute monster, sacking Drake Maye 5 times.  But when he did manage to break contain and/or get a throw away…really good things happened.  And #ThePauls’ offense remainder very Paulish.  New England overcame a slow start to win in a walk, 32-13.  New England looks like a real contender, back in business after a 5-year hiatus.  Cleveland remains fucked beyond description.

Lastly (for the early window), the 500s put a fairly strange beating on the Tomsulas.  They had the ball over 80% of the first half, but only led 16-7.  After 3 quarters, Houston had like triple the total yardage of their opponent, but the margin was down to 23-15.  They’d squeeze the vice defensively in Q4, though – and win 26-15.  The Bay Area Legend of White Mac is absolutely going to need the hot tub and a good, non-Watson massage after the beating he took.  And maybe Stroud and the 500s have some spark left, after all.

That leaves a paltry three in the late window, as your scribe already starts to feel Blue Monday.

Denver deserved to win, just for the throwback kit/field decoration.  And win they did!  Both backs got ample touches, and made plays in space.  Nix is never going to be cautious with the ball and manage the game like Breesus – but when he plays under control for HIM – he absolutely can at least be a good-to-very-good quartered back.  And the defensing unit just brings me unbridled joy.  Week in, week out.  Anyway, both teams pulled starters after PJ Harvey’s 3rd score (Dobbins went over 100) to make it 44-17, Donks.  Paradise Lost hit a nice toss late to take us to 44-24.

Speaking of defensing units, MRSA’s sure ’nuff had a day.  True, it was just N’Awlins/Rattlesnake kid, but still impressive.  Much like ATL, there is still quite a bit of avriance from week to week, but I can squint and blieve in Tampa as a January threat.  Rattler got pulled for Shough, 6 of one, half-dozen of the other.  23-3, fin.

Workmanlike performance, thy name is the Dimebag Fat Humps.  They just show up on time, finish theiir shift, then go home to read and then to bed at a reasonable hour.  And except when Adonai Mitchell self-destructs?  They fucking WIN. 7-1, can you fucking believe it?  Again, this is just the Tits – but they looked MOAR like the plucky September varietal this week (as opposed to October’s horror show).  Shit, Riley Leonard even got to play!  Tyjae Spears scored oin 4th and goal deep into garbage time, bringing us to 38-14 as your final tally.

See everyone for Week Nine, when Hippo promises to be extra morose, as he always be when we’uns hit the halfway mark.