Couch-Scout V.3: Colts vs. Broncos

I second--nay, third--everything the Administrator said about the HoG's current wheeziness. This week has been a livin' nightmare of drunken debauchery...so I guess kinda more like one of those "special" dreams than an actual nightmare. Anyway. I'm gonna keep this short and not particularly sweet, because the game is on in a few minutes and I haven't made a drink yet.


The Colts, as Stephen Wayne Methusa-Cobb would happily tell you between bites of corn pone (you grow up on the frontier, you get a taste for the stuff), are the Broncos' bete noire. Their bugbear. The team that gives them more trouble than any other.

No need to rehash the many humiliating losses they've visited upon us during Manning's tenure. They're etched upon my retinas. I see them when I sleep. That awful touchdown in the playoffs when Al Wilson stopped to argue over who had Marvin Harrison and forgot to actually lay a hand on him. The legend of Brandon Stokley. Our absolute inability to get a finger on Peyton...god, OK, that's enough. I'm getting queasy.

Anyway, to the game. Last week, our run D got overwhelmed by the mighty Jaguars of Jacksonville, and with Joseph Addai looking like a top 5 back (may I take a moment to say that I liked him comin' out of LSU, and hoped the Broncos would draft him? May I? Too fucking bad for you if you said no), I expect more of the same. Cutthatmeat knows when to take the straight road. If that happens, we'll lose by 30 points.

However, if the center of the line stiffens up, if Simeon Rice can start layin' the bricks of that Camelot he promised us, we'll make this a game. I have a hard time imagining that we'll play two oomph-free games in a row. That's a mighty large "if," admittedly, since I feel this squad is showing uncomfortable signs of mediocrity.

The final? It pains me. It really does...

Colts 37, Broncos 17.

Ugh.