Instant Hippo Thoughts – Week 1, 2024 Season

Well, well, well.  We are back, and I hope you like your changes served up sudden.

So much chaos early failed to make it across the finish line.  Except the GREATRIOTS, who obviously went into The Jungle and kicked WKRP ass for all 60 minutes.  The one thing every NFL watcher was certain of?  That the Pats would suck.  But yet another reminder that we know the square root of fuckall.  Jacoby Brissett just had to game mange, and let the defense carry the mail.  P*ts 16, Cincy 10, as Jared Mayo eclipses Grumblelord in carring winning percentage.

So…that’s me out of all Survivor/Loser pools.  Week 1.  Again.

Those who went with Bills Mafia experienced early terror, as the Qards raced out to a 17-3 lead, one that even looked somewhat legitimate.  Wee Kyler was making plays, and the defense looked surprisingly stout.  That said, they didn’t score enough to withstand the eventual Brokeback “brain switch flip” – and a sack/fumble deep in their own territory killed them off.  A late kickoff return score meant they had a few chances down one score and with the ball, but the Buffalo defense stepped up.  34-28, with tougher tests to come.

Miami looked even MOAR ded, to a Jaguras crew that I expected to win outright.  Up 17-7, with Etienne having made a first down inside the 2…starts stretching towards the goal line and gets the ball punched out.  Miami recovers, scores almost immediately, and that’s that.  Tyreek Hill does a little “look at me, getting arrested like on the way to the game” celebration after his TD, then Miami kept trying FGs until they made just enough to win at the gun, 20-17.  Ouch.  Prison Girlfriend made all of his production early, then generally struggled under pressure after halftime.

The Surly Duff division wasn’t done Hershey squirtin’ away big leads on the road, as DonT’s magnificent Tits took a 17-nil lead at Soldier Field…then gave up a punt block TD and a horrible pick 6 to gift Chi**** a 24-17 win.  Maybe that “son-in-law material” praise went to Levis’ head?  Anyway, he wilted and then some.  Caleb didn’t play great, but did just enough to start his career on the front foot.  I don’t think we can have any real idea what either of these squadrons are made of.  Be interesting to see how they react Week 2.

Entropy’s favoUrite division wouldn’t lose out, since the 500s and Humps played one another, in the Gravy Boat.  Because we can’t have nice things, I worried that maybe CJ Stroud would suffer a bit of “Second Season Syndrome” – but nope, he came out firing and had an excellent game.  Indy was always fighting from behind, and never could quite crest that hill (and/or make a deal with G-d).  DeMeco Ryans smartly went for a 4th down from the Indy 2, at 22-20.  The announcers were baffled, but the maths is obvious.  Such a huge advantage to have a 2-score lead (much bigger gap than 2-vs-5 point lead, especially when the latter comes with 25+ yards of field position).  Anyway, Stroud got the touchdown, and a late 9 point lead.  Steichen kind of mangled the clock, but also rightly went for it on 4th and goal from the 2.  Yeah, you need 2 scores.  But much easier to get a long FG in “hurry up” mode than it is to get a TD.  You won’t get a better chance at the TD element than “one play from the 2.”  Richardson coverted for the final 29-27 scoreline, as Beatie Mixon – and a great catch by Nico Collins – ran out the clock.  Richardson was the girl with the golden curl, making some “holy shit” throws, for good and for bad.  Still not sure which “side” will win out in the end, but the Humps looked pretty decent overall.  Possible wild card contestant, we shall see.

Beatie Mixon, on the other hand, looks like the final piece of the 500s’ puzzle.  He ran angry indeed, as the announcers noticed.  He can pass block.  He shares the load with Stroud, in a way that reminds me of Terrell Davis to John Elway.  30 totes for 159, that’s one hell of a start.

Yet again, we are reminded – don’t wonder how on earth Coach Epps can manage to will his crew over the .500 mark.  They just find a way.  This week, they win the Arthur Smith Vengeance Bowl, via SIX field goals – 5 of 40+, and 3 of over 50.  Have a day, Chris Boswell.  But it was TJ Watt as Man of the Match, as he wreaked holy terror on Dingleberry and his new Southern pals.  Sure, nobody did anything of note on offense (other than George Pickens).  It was Peak Mike Tomlin, and an 8-point road win over a “trendy” projected contender.  Dingleberry threw 2 picks, and generally did Dingleberry things.  His achilles seemed to hold up fine, though.

One nit – there was no justification for PIT to kick their last FG.  They were inside the ATL 5, clock running down to 30 seconds.  Falcons had no timeouts.  Just sneak the ball, and turn it over on downs.  Atlanta has 0.000000001% chances to even get the ball into Hail Mary range.  Who cares about going up 8?  It’s not worth risking the chaos of a kick return, or giving them the ball on the 30 (where one midrange completion and spike lets you throw said Hail Mary).  No punishment ensued, though.  Watt sacked Dingleberry before he got anywhere near midfield, and the game ended.  18-10, Yinzers.

Some games?  They were just ass whippings.  Just 2 out of 8, though.  Bryce Young looked like he needed a hug, but affection was not in the cards.  He threw a pickerception on his very first attempt.  Only positive was the long FG drive he managed in the 1-minute drill.  Problem is…that cut the margin to 30-3.  Saints backups/volunteers from the crowd eased up a little in the 2nd half, for your average, everyday 47-10 throttling.  Before the salary cap?  That’s what Superb Owls looked like.  In the era of parity, it’s just fucking pathetic.

Les Vertically Enhanced Habitants (seriously, that wretched “throwback” kit) can thank the Black Panthers’ showing, for mitigating just how lousy they played.  Daniel Jones had the shit beat out of him (again), and made idiotic Dimebag plays when he had time (again), and made Touch of Downs look like vintage Joe Montana.  Seriously, weeks like this will get that paste eater paid – and some lucky team will regret the fuck out of that.

Whew.  You get all of that?  Late window was liquid shit, and I ain’t even listen to any of Dreamboat’s drivel.

Donks WOO!!! had some kind of first half.  An interception (first drive) run back to the SeaTruther 20 (leading to no first downs, then a FG).  A Safety Dance.  A muffed punt inside the freaking Truther 10 (leading to no first downs, then a FG).  Another motherfucking Safety Dance.  Denver ridiculously ALMOST GOT A THIRD, pushing Geno all the way back to the 1.  Seattle punted, one “jump ball” completion after the punt, and you get another FG.  13-9 Donks at the half.

I can’t adequately describe how horrifyingly bad Bo Nix was.  He danced like a headless chicken.  Stared down his primary read, almost Tebow-style.  Threw the ball straight to defenders.  Luckily, the ‘Truthers only picked off ONE of those first half ducks (pun intended), and immediately turned that into -2 points (ie, that first Donks safety).  Fatty Payton bristled at the sideline reporter’s mild hints that Nix had a rough first half.  It would get worse.  Seattle finally went all like – hey, let’s RUN it, stupid.  They scored two tuddies and a FG, and I started barfing out this column.  Truthers got a 2nd pickerception, one that you or I would have easily corralled. Thankfully, garbage time made it easier to check down slowly, then scramble for a late score.  26-20, fin.

I refused to listen to any commentary, so I noticed very little from the Cowpersons’ demolition of #ThePauls.  But it seemed like every play I did see, the Dallas front seven was beating the tar shit out of that sex predator quartered back.  Very nice.  Good old ham head locked in his big money extension, and celebrates an easy road win.  MOAR long placement kicks abound, 33-17 is your score, thanks to a last-minute Jerome Ford TD (huzzah, fantasy gifts).  That whole last series was just a cat distractedly playing with a 80%-dead dinner mouse.

Maybe saw 4 plays of Clippers/Vegas, but it was just such a sad affair.  Was only 9-7 to the Clips after 3, but the Spanoi finally eked out two Q4 TDs.  Fuck, how I despise any success for Lesser Harbs.  What a fucking creep-ass weirdo.  Anyway, 22-10 it ends.

Noticed even fewer plays of Commies/MRSA, the whole 2nd half seemed like garbage time.  Anyway, they trade true garbage time TDs for a final of 37-20.  Who fucking cares.  I need to get back into marathon game-watching shape.

SNF is a pretty decent NFC West/North faceoff, with RRRRRRRRRRAM IT!! (and Fatt Stafford) heading to Detroit.  Much like CJ Stroud individually, I worried for the Fuck LioUns collectively – would the weight of expectations ruin their fun and successful mojo?

Anyway, their defense looks much, much better.  A Detroit that needs to rely less on Baby Buster seems a good bet to succeed.  At least going into half, up 10-3.  My eyes told me FUCK OFF, Hippo.  You make sleepy time now.  I shall check to see how Fatty and crew undoubtedly rose up in the second stanza.  But for now…just thank fuck for FITBAW, however sadly both my team’s performed this weekend.  There was violent action upon green grass, and that’ll do just fine.