If Baseball Is For Dinner, Then Football Better Be For Supper. (And I’ll take the supper)
In the industry, this is what we call a rant. It could be a rave, but ecstasy isn’t my bag. Go figure. The standard procedure is that from now on, I’m going to occasionally ramble on about a subject and you’re going to pretend to be interested. Much like the time I had a dream about taking a hooker on vacation to Kansas. Little did I know she wanted to go to Arkansas. Communication is for the birds. Now, away we go.
It has come to my attention since last weekend that I am a big nerd. I wear glasses and a tie every day (and enjoy it), my voice can go to high octaves when I’m upset, I can’t breathe through my nose, I think I’m better than everyone else when I’m not, and oh yeah, I need football in my life like a normal person needs happiness. However, July is not a good time to be craving football. In the land of baseball, tennis, and other sports that make me want to vomit, July is not a good month for a sports fan. But Saturday, I needed my fix. It was my last day in Bangkok, I needed something to shake off the chills for another month. I needed football, and I didn’t care who, what, when or where. I would’ve been fine with watching Dan Dierdorff play against himself (naked). I would’ve been comfortable with watching the Lion’s 0-16 season all over again, if only it meant that it involved me, the couch, a 12 pack of Vault, and some fucking football.
That’s when I made what could be the biggest mistake of my life.
I’m not going to go into details of what I found and where I found it, but it is a good service that is probably illegal, and is helping me cope with my football addiction. So, for the rest of the summer, instead of having fun in the sun, I am going to be in my dank living room watching classic football games at my choosing. I have already watched three. I will probably watch 3 more by the time this day is over. But this is what happens, I suppose. This is what happens when society denies you of something that you need. You go through illegal and antisocial ways of getting that thing.
Now that the scenario is established, if you don’t care about football, you can probably call it quits on this article. There’s nothing more to see here.
I watched a game yesterday that justified a dark time in my life fully. It was what has been known as “The Body bag Game”. Unfortunately, it has nothing to do with the opening scene in The Last Boy Scout, but half the fucking starting lineup for the Redskins left the game on a cart. One of those people ended up being Stan Humphries, the man that has been a thorn in my side since 1994. For those who don’t remember, Stan Humphries was the lackluster quarterback for the Chargers from 1992(?)-1997. He was the one that tricked an entire nation into thinking he was a good quarterback. His ruse was so good, that it even went as far as Superbowl XXIX, when of course, he folded his Q-7 off suit. This event caused a chain reaction in my life for the worse. Because of the Charger’s embarrassing loss, I received numerous amounts of severe ridicule on the playground, I gained an extensive amount of weight (that took me 13 years to recover from) and there was always a dark cloud following me. It’s easy to say that Stan Humphries, and the 1994 Chargers came close to ruining my life completely.
That is why is was so sweet to see that man in pain. As he got carted off the field crying like, well, a man that just fucked up his knee real bad, I felt reprimanded. All of these years of anguish has finally paid off. I got to see Stan Humphries get his ass handed to him, and not at the cost of the San Diego Super Chargers. It was like meeting god, and it happened for real this time. No drugs, no stage, no nothing. This was me communicating with the essence of life. And life said “Yes!”.
This image will be burned in my mind for the rest of my life. Whenever things go wrong and everything seems somehwat hopeless, I will think of this image. I may end up being a 67 year old rapist living in Missouri, but Stan Humphries got hurt real bad, and I got to see it. Therefore, life will forever be good.
One thing that I am really enjoying about these games is the old commercials. Who would’ve thought that watching beer and car advertisements could be so…fun? Basically, it takes me back to an era I wish I still lived in. As I watched the game last night, I was transported back in time. All of a sudden, it actually was November 11, 1990, and I was spending my Monday night on the couch watching football. I was the type of asshole to pretend that the ’90s never ended, and now I don’t have to! And I owe it all to the great sport known as…football.
Tune in next week when I do my segment on the enigma known as Ryan Leaf. That is, if I’m still around.