Human Decency

I was walking down the street today, headed for the grocery store, when the most bizarre thing happened. First of all, it's about 8:30 in the morning, I was up and about today and determined to get stuff done. Clearly anybody who has his days off on Tuesdays and Thursdays made the right life decisions, right?

Anyways, I'm trotting along the sidewalk and it was a little chilly early on today so I put on a hoodie. Nothing special, just a regular, red hoodie. No design, no nothing. Simplicity is the essence of fashion, or so I've been told by people that know what fashion is. Besides, even though I'm smaller than most people, I produce body heat at an exponential rate. Seriously, I'm hot.

All of a sudden, out of absolutely nowhere, a car went racing by on the same path that I was headed and a man leaned out the window and yelled, "Hey faggot! Nice jacket!"

Let's recap really quickly: It's 8:30 in the morning, I'm minding my own business on the sidewalk, and I'm not doing anything to draw any attention to myself. This guy just felt that at that fleeting moment he needed to lean out the window and yell something.

At first I was startled. I'm in my own little world when I'm going places. I start talking to myself in my head and coming up with wacky ideas that I can write about in the future. I know it sounds narcissistic, but when I'm walking down the street, my focus in on myself.

Then, after I realized that somebody yelled something and it was directed at me, I started to process what he said. The more I dwelled on it, the more it pissed me off.

What kind of jackass does it take to yell hateful spewage out of his car window at a stranger on the streets? As a writer (cough, cough) I understand that words hold gravity. There's weight to what you say and it affects people.

People kill themselves because of what people say.

Ignorance truly is bliss. The guy that said that today continued on his path probably thinking he just did the funniest thing he's ever done. But what if I wasn't me? What if I was somebody just scraping by on a thread of decent humanity and that things were really going to get better. Then he comes along. Now I'm shattered.

Being funny isn't natural, it's a craft. It's a finely tuned machine that gets perfected with a better understanding of sociology. If you aren't capable of being coherent enough to understand how people think, then you aren't capable of being funny. If the only thought you can conjure up in your head at a given moment is a slur or a hateful remark, then you aren't funny--you're ignorant and you don't understand the gravity of words.

I'm not a naive person. I understand that the world is full of people that are homophobic, and racist, and prejudiced, and just downright bad guys. It's your right to be wrong, it's not my problem. Just for the sake of whatever it is that you hold dear to yourself, please THINK before you speak. If what you are about to say is something that you would never like to hear spoken to you, then shut the hell up.

There are plenty of ways to be smart, or funny, or significant without making another person feel like crap. Unless that person is you. In which case, I'm the biggest proponent for self-deprecation.

Wild Card Weekend

Happy 2012, kids! I've taken a little time off to refresh the ol' brain piece to make sure that I deliver to you the utmost quality product I can down here at the Studly Pastures but now it's time to get back to work.

This weekend marks the start of the NFL play-offs and they call it Wild Card Weekend for a reason--shit gets crazy!

Remember last year when Marshawn Lynch single-handedly defeated the New Orleans Saints in Seattle, even though Seattle finished 7-9 and New Orleans was a huge favorite? Well the winds of fortune are blowing again this year and they are giving us a eerily similar situation in the Mile High City.

And who can resist this year's 'feel good' story? No, not Tebow, I'm talking about the Detroit Lions. Forget all the nonsense of Ndamukong Suh being a dirty player, and Jim Schwartz not being able to be patted on the back, the Lions making the play-offs is awesome. This franchise has been the biggest loser since Barry Sanders hung up his cleats--in 1998. I was in eighth grade that year and more concerned about why I was four feet tall than I was with professional football. Fourteen years later, I'm slightly taller, and the Lions are relevant again.

In Wild Card Weekend, only one of the Big Three is in action. Drew Brees hosts the aforementioned Lions in Louisiana while Aaron Rodgers and Tom Brady get the week off. The year that all three of these guys had should make for a very interesting play-off race.

Alright, well, I'm running out of little quips to talk about so I'm just going to jump right into your favorite part: my predictions that almost invariably make me look like an ass.

My team was out of contention in September so you can rest assured that these picks will not hold any bias*.

*Warning: contains bias.

CINCINNATI BENGALS at HOUSTON TEXANS

Ok, first up it's the tigers against the cows. Huge game for the Texans, it's their first play-off game in franchise history, it's at home, and history tells us they are playing the Bengals. The only problem for them is that they are on their eighteenth quarterback of the season. As good as their defense and skill positions are, their line is evidently made of swiss cheese--or their quarterbacks are made of balsa wood. Either way, it's not good. However, they are playing a team that backed their way into the play-offs, meaning that they lost but so did the team that could've put them out. So it comes down to Mojo versus No-Mojo and I always take Mojo.

Houston 17 - Cincinnati 10



DETROIT LIONS at NEW ORLEANS SAINTS

And now for the 'feel good' story to come to a crashing halt. I love what the Lions did this year, I really did. For them to have a chance on Saturday the following things need to happen: Drew Brees doesn't play, Darren Sproles doesn't play, Marques Colston doesn't play, New Orleans' back-up quarterback doesn't play, Superdome fans become deaf-mutes, government probe proves that Katrina was a scam, and the Lions don't reveal that the only big game they won all year was the first Monday Night game against the healthy Chicago Bears--at home. That's about it. Brees crushed a 27-year record held by the Golden God Marino himself this year. YOU CAN'T STOP THE ROCK!

New Orleans 38 - Detroit 21



ATLANTA FALCONS at NEW YORK GIANTS

Ah yes, Hotlanta versus Jersey G-Men. This is the hardest pick of Wild Card Weekend. I have no idea what's going to happen. I had Michael Turner on my fantasy team this year and we finished in fifth place. Yeah, I said WE. He did the work, I called the shots. Matt Ryan looks spottier than a, well, I had a really dirty joke here that I will just keep to myself for the sake of going national. Let's just say that at the end of female cycles the flow tends to not be as heavy...yeah...that's Matt Ryan. Giants are hot right now. The kind of hot you want right as the play-offs are starting. Will they go all the way? Probably not. Will they beat the Falcons? I think so?

New York 21 - Atlanta 17



PITTSBURGH STEELERS at DENVER BRONCOS

The main event of everybody's weekend, right? Big Ben against Jesus. Date Rapist versus Humanitarian. Cool versus Good. I know Ben has an ankle injury, I know that Mendenhall is done for the year, and I know that Ryan Clark can't play in the high altitude due to his illness. I understand all of that. Listen to me very carefully...IT DOESN'T MATTER!!! Denver can't score any points. A hobbled Ben, a back-up running back, and that wide-receiving core can still put up points. The Steelers defense will embarrass the Denver offense more than Tebow will. This is a no-brainer, lock-stock, call Vegas pick of the weekend.

Pittsburgh 17 - Denver 3

So there you have it, kids. The Gospel itself. As always, if I'm wrong on any of these picks it's because I've been drinking. Enjoy Wild Card Weekend!

The Battle For LA

Good for you, Vanessa.

You finally stood up for yourself and said, "Enough is enough!" I'm out of here.

There's only so many multi-million dollar diamonds in the world that can buy your loyalty, and I applaud you for that.

Granted, what Kobe did in Denver several years ago invoked the necessity for multi-million dollar diamonds, and priceless news conferences (get some Chap-stick Kobe), but this was different, wasn't it?

This was too close to home. This was simply "I'm too bored because of this damn lock-out and need something to grab my attention." How dare the man!

Vanessa bolted...and I can't blame her. The Lakers are in complete disarray.

What, you thought I was going all Doctor Phil on you?

Lamar Odom is gone, the Zen Master is gone, Chris Paul plays in the stadium (but he's wearing blue and red), and now Kobe is physically and intimately alone. That should work well for the biggest ego in basketball.

So much for high and mighty for the greatest franchise in NBA history, you don't have the TIME for high and mighty. You need help now!

Everybody outside of Kobe knows that Kobe is in the twilight of his career. You have two years, maximum, of the Icy Killer that is Kobe. That means no more of, "He's definitely making this shot" or "We're down by two in the waning seconds, but we have Kobe".

Side Note: How sad is that? I'm not even close to a Lakers' fan but the fact that I will live and see Kobe Bryant not play basketball is very upsetting to me. He was my Jordan.

So the divorce thing affected Michael in a big way. His happened after his playing career but then he went out and became owner of the Charlotte Bobcats. Michael Jordan forgets more about the National Basketball Association by the day than I will ever know, yet, I know not to buy the Bobcats. They suck.

He was divorce-blind though. That's why the greatest basketball player ever bought a professional team in North Carolina. It has nothing to do with roots.

So, with a divorce-blind Kobe, and a rag-tag team of starters, the Lakers are simply screwed. Do you remember when Shaq left and Kobe had that 80 point game but the Lakers were still terrible? Yeah, it's like that but no 80 point game is coming.

At this point, even if the Lakers manage to wrangle Dwight Howard away from the Magic, they would be even more screwed. The Lakers would almost certainly have to give away key pieces of their line-up, as well as potential future draft picks, to get the best big man in the game. That buys them some time, but like I said, two years MAXIMUM!

Then you have no Kobe, Dwight bolts again, and you start starting Clipper-rejects.

Side note: Pairing Blake Griffin with Chris Paul was a total Laker move, about six years ago. What the hell happened? Are my kids going to grow up hating the Clippers and rooting for the Lakers? Bizarro world?

The man at the helm now is Mike Brown, the guy from Cleveland that couldn't get LeBron a championship. Now he's in LA, replacing Phil Jackson, inheriting a rapidly aging Kobe, and a fan base that simply wants to win. That's the recipe for dynamite and I simply can't wait. Blow it up!

Christmas Miracle

Stop it. Please just let it stop. For the love of God, let it stop!

If this is the last Tim Tebow post I will ever write, it's still come way too late.

Look, the guy is a great motivator, a positive influence in the league, and has great hair despite wearing a helmet all day. Seriously, I take a nap and it looks like I just got roughed up.

The sustainability of the Tebow-led Broncos is just not there.

If I'm a Broncos fan right now, I'm loving life, don't get me wrong. But I have to know a great gimmick when I see one. Back in 2008, the Miami Dolphins had a great gimmick and it led them to the playoffs. They played one game and were promptly dispatched and have not been back since.

That's because they played the Ravens and they had a GREAT defense and a smart, efficient offense. Miami had the Wild Cat, which essentially could end in about three ways: 1) Ronnie Brown runs to the left, 2) Ronnie Brown hands it off to Ricky Williams for a sweep to the left, or 3) Ronnie Brown fakes to the left and throws it to the the tight end. That's about it.

At first, when the Wild Cat was unveiled on the New England Patriots, it looked as if this was the next great thing in football. The Miami juggernaut had been unleashed! They destroyed the hapless Patriots and Belichick stood on the sidelines with a "What the hell was that?" look on his face.

I've seen that look seven times now this year on the faces of the Broncos opponents. The way that Tebow guides his offense is eerily similar to how the Dolphins approached their games in 2008.

Notice I keep talking about 2008. This is 2011. We don't do the Wild Cat anymore because there is video tape, and there's meetings, and practices, and game plans, and eventually you learn how to defend what was previously unstoppable. You eventually realize, we can blitz corners to defend the outside run and have a linebacker drop back into coverage on the tight end, because it's a TIGHT END! There's the death of the Wild Cat in a nutshell.

The Tebow-led structure will eventually hit it's buzz-saw and when it happens, it won't be pretty. The majority wants Tebow to succeed and often perpetuates his faith and nature to football for some reason. It's especially bad here in Florida. Every time I see another Broncos 15 jersey I think to myself, "Well, that guy's about to have an eye opening."

The problem with having a gimmick-run offense is that you've committed. You have no room for adaptation and that's very dangerous when you consider that defenses are always changing.

The "Here's what we do and just try and stop us!" schtick works right up to the minute that you get stopped. Now what?

The Broncos play the New England Patriots next. Tom Brady is looking to crochet himself another Division Title Sweater for the holidays and will unleash the dogs of war on poor Tebow.

Now with that said, Denver might win this game. The Pats don't have a great defense and rely on an a high octane offense to win their games. Denver's defense has played unbelievably well in the Tebow stretch. If it's close in the end, who knows? Tebow might eke out another one.

Don't get comfortable though. All good things must come to a smashing and bloody end.

Prediction: New England 24, Denver 13.

Quote: "Screw you, Matt Prater. I won't forget what you did to UCF." - Me, still very bitter towards the Denver kicker.

Said The Horse To The Dolphin

Hey Miami Dolphins, we couldn't help but notice that you have won your last three games in a row! Good for you! That's a really impressive stat, especially when you look at your 0-7 start. We'll be rooting for you when you play the Cowboys on Thanksgiving.

Of course we will. We'll be cheering and laughing at the same time. While your inbred, ridiculous fans cheer on an unimportant winning streak in the mire of a lost season, we'll be cheering on the guaranteed prospect of Andrew Luck.

You stupid ingrates, you were just too proud, weren't you? You were just too good to lose out, weren't you? You never had the guts to suck up in the first place and choke to death on. It's Andrew Luck! The can't miss, next Peyton, thing-you-haven't-had-in-forever Quarterback!

We were willing to alienate our fan-base from the announcement of Peyton's second...er...we think...neck surgery. We shoved 'some guy' into the fire after the third(?) surgery and gosh dangit, would you know it? He sucks. Somehow, we find our lucky, giving-up asses on the verge on the next Peyton. Suck it, Miami.



I hope the break was enough. If it wasn't, this is my voice now, not the Indianapolis Colts...not sure why I had to insult myself so early in the beginning...

Of course I knew why I had to bash myself. I lost my path. I got swept up in that (damn) media story of the next 'Dan Marino' and hoping it was some guy like me only from Stanford, taller, stronger, better thrower, and way prettier. I'm no Andrew Luck, Andrew Luck is no Dan Marino, and Dan Marino is no Matt Moore. Matt Moore is not a great quarterback. He's a great quarterback RIGHT now. The Dolphins have won THREE games. THREE years from now, he might be selling insurance, but that's the point. I don't care about tomorrow; I care about right now. Go Matt Moore, Go!

I hope that Andrew Luck is the payment that was coming on the blood diamond that was Peyton Manning. If only Andrew Luck would simply venture down the path of Ryan Leaf-dom, then all would be right in the world of the NFL. And I simply say that, because in my weird ass head, that seems fair. Live in mediocrity at best for a decade, Colts. Christ, would it kill you?

Look, Andrew Luck might be the next greatest quarterback of all-time OR he might be THE greatest quarterback of all-time. My point is, he's not playing for the Dolphins, so shit on him.

The Unhappy Valley

I, like most children in our society, was raised based upon three simple principles: always be honest, never steal, and always try to do the right thing.

As you get older, you realize that sometimes these guidelines get in the way of certain areas in your life. For instance, you're going to have to lie to your significant other from time to time, that's just the way it is. It's for self-preservation.

However, the major stuff isn't very hard to keep right. First of all, it's crammed down your throat everywhere you go. Your school, your job, your Home Owners Association...they all have codes of conduct and rules of ethics that must be followed or you suffer the consequence. It's the first paper they make you take home and sign every single grade from kindergarten to 12th.

Moral ethics are unavoidable. You know what they are, whether you use them or not, is up to you. This is something that can be said for all of mankind, big or small.

With that said, I have no defense for Joe Paterno. The man has been God in Pennsylvania for the last sixty years and the best he can do is pass the word along? You're Joe Paterno!

So McQueary comes to you and says he saw Sandusky doing "something" in the showers with a minor, no warning flags shot off in your head? What the hell could "something" possibly mean? Should it matter if the preceding words before that are "old man", "little boy", and "showers"?

Why didn't you march your khaki-ass down to the showers, pull Sandusky out of there, beat the hell out of him and then turn him over the authorities? Was it because you already knew, Joe? You worked with the man for 30 years. In 30 years he managed to keep his biggest and darkest secret from the man closest to him without so much as a hint?

How big can a kingdom get before you don't worry about it crumbling to salt around you? Man lets legend consume him and then it becomes too late to stop. You become bigger than you are and you forget what's right.

Instead of sitting in your house, feeling sorry for yourself for getting fired, maybe you should read the Grand Jury release, Joe. It's 23 pages, of vivid description, of what your friend Jerry Sandusky did to ruin the lives of children he was pretending to help. He SNAKED them out of the charity he set up, Joe. He showered with them on Penn State's campus, in your kingdom. Where the hell where you, Joe?

Paterno said looking back now with hindsight, he wish he had done more. Well look back further, Joe. All your accomplishments, the record bowl wins, the two national championships, and all the years of wearing the crown...it's all hollow. It all loses meaning and there is a tarnish on everything. You traded your moral fiber for a cardboard crown.

But hey, what does it matter. You're 84 years old, you've lived your life. These boys, however, are now in their twenties. What about their lives, Joe? What are you going to do for them?

Smokin' Joe and Greatness

Joe Frazier died last night.

Ali released a statement that said, "I will always remember Joe with admiration and respect."

Yeah, right.

I'm sure Greatness had a few more thoughts he would have liked to have tacked on to that statement. After all, these two hated each other with a violent passion that defined the sport of boxing. Arguably, the two greatest fights ever were fought between these two men: the 'Fight of the Century' in NYC where Frazier handed Ali his first professional loss and the 'Thrilla in Manila' where the two men almost killed each other.

'Thrilla in Manila' was such a brutal slug-fest that it's still uncomfortable to watch on ESPN Classic even after knowing the outcome.

Still, the way that the two handled each other outside of the ring was quite the battle itself. Ali referenced Frazier as an "ugly gorilla" and once called him an "Uncle Tom".

Frazier was furious. He saw Ali as the embodiment of foolish pride. How dare he declare himself the Greatest? Frazier took it upon himself to give the fool his fall and he did in the 'Fight of the Century'. Even though they fought two more times, and each of the three fights were epic battles, Frazier could never emerge from the shadow of Greatness.

When Ali lit the torch at the Atlanta Olympic Games, Frazier said he wish he was there so he could push him in.

Ali was already stricken with Parkinson's Disease by then.

I remember an interview with Frazier's brother a couple of years ago and the guy asked him if there had been any give in the rivalry over the years that had passed. In other words, was Frazier still pissed at Ali after all this time?

Frazier's brother gave a little smirk and picked up his cell phone and called his brother. Frazier didn't answer, but the voice mail picked up and the following message played:

"My name is Smokin' Joe Frazier, sharp as a razor.
Yeah, floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee,
I'm the man who done the job, look and see."

The irony of it all is as much as the two men beat each other down, they were building up their legends at the same time. Joe Frazier will never be remembered without mentioning Muhammad Ali, and vice versa.

Could you imagine that? The one man you hate more than anything on the planet is responsible for your own greatness...your immortality. With that said, of course Frazier is going to take credit for Ali's Parkinson's.

Frazier dies quickly after a brief battle with cancer and Ali's own end gets drawn out in torturous fashion. I bet he's laughing about that too.

Till the bitter end, Smokin'Joe, till the bitter end.