Welcome to the Ravens Riot Wrap Up

Eliteness, Mrs. Fozz’s Heartbreak, Terrell’s Sudden Weight Loss

Every year, when training camp is about to start, I tell myself, “No way the whole ‘Is Flacco Elite?’ subject comes up.”

Then, I tune into the local piece of shit sports radio channel and I am proven wrong by “experts” who take time off from smoking meth, hitting their girlfriends, and shopping for Ecko clothes at reduced prices to call in and argue the point. And sometimes, just barely in the background, I hear my wife yell, “You tell’em about it hon! Where’s the damn pipe at?”

Then I switch the channel and listen to white noise and pretend the apocalypse has come and I’m the only Ravens fan in existence who doesn’t give a shit about whether or not Joe Flacco is elite. As I’ve said before, Flacco is the best QB the Ravens have ever had, which makes him elite in that manner. When compared to the current class of the NFL – he’s pretty good.

Now onto the rest of the Ravens.

Defense
It was fun last year watching our secondary get shelled like the Japanese army at Iwo Jima. Matt Elam was a bust, and guess what? He tore his biceps in training camp so he’s out for the year. Groovy.

Here’s hoping Jimmy Smith and – gag, cough, snort – Asa Jackson can return without fucking falling down steps and being injured for half a season. Ladarius Webb failed the preseason physical – THE BEN and Touchdown Tommy sent him thank notes and a bouquet of flowers.

(Insert lament about the “old days” when football players were tough and played with fractured femurs, with their eyeballs popped out of their skulls, dangling by shredded optic nerves)

The line looks to be suspect now that Haloti is gone to the Motor City. Quick question, will he notice as he drives to the stadium that there is no difference between Detroit and Baltimore? Probably not, he’ll be wolfing down double cheeseburgers with his massive, bear like hands. (Side note, I met him once and he’s a nice guy – and gigantic – like mutant size gigantic.)

Linebackers look to be on point this time around, Suggs reported to camp much leaner and in shape than last year. A gum scraping in the offseason allowed him to shed about 10 pounds.

Offense
See above about Joe Flacco and eliteness.

Marc Trestman – he of the Revenge of the Nerd glasses – is in love with double tight end sets. Luckily, Dennis Pitta and his glass hips won’t be participating in this new offensive scheme. However, Crockett Gillmore has bulked up and could be a definite star in this offense. He also has about the whitest sounding name in the world, right after professional baseball pitcher Buck Farmer.

When it comes to running backs, Justin Forsett looks to be the main horse in the Ravens stable, and has promised not to hit anyone off the field. And to always take the steps instead of the elevator. (Janae Rice apologizes for this lame – and poorly aged – joke.)

Now we get to the receivers. [Pours flagon of Bulleit Bourbon, lights cigar, makes sure Mrs. Fozz is locked securely in what we call “the timeout think it over one more time dungeon.”]

Steve Smith is our number one receiver and now qualifies for the AARP discount. So who do we sign? Breshad Perriman – who has had more balls pass through his hands then Ginger Lynn. Kamar Aiken and Marlon Brown have talent, so look for them in specific sets – I’ll be looking for more bourbon whenever Flacco drops back to pass.

Coaches
Hey look, I like John Harbaugh – he’s a good guy and doesn’t care about stupid questions on Ash Wednesday (As a recovering Catholic, I appreciate humor when it comes to skillfully answering people who ask ‘Do you know you have something on your forehead?’). Trestman is going to have a challenge replacing Gary Kubiak, who did an impressive job last season. Maybe a small heart attack will boost his image with Ravens fans.

Fans
The Ravens fanbase is viewed nationally as a group of knuckle dragging, shaved apes who love the color purple, especially when it comes to camouflage. Complaining about an “NFL conspiracy” keeps us occupied in the offseason, that and drinking pisswater called National Bohemian, going to bullroasts and eating too many oysters, and watching the Orioles fuck shit up throughout the summer. You know what? Like all stereotypes, this one has a degree of accuracy. There’s also a good amount of passion there, along with football knowledge. But that’s all overshadowed by the godawful purple camouflage.