Wednesday, October 31, 2007

We Are Hot Chicks Wednesday: Trick or Treat

It's that time of year again, HoGnation. Er, well...nevermind. Anyway. Halloween is here, and we all know what that means: The best costumes yield the fullest pillowcases! This week, we've got a nice mix of folks that've dressed up for us before and folks that haven't. Regardless, they're all prime candidates for winning any neighborhood costume contest. Thus, before the ol' doorbell starts ringin', let's have a look.

Make no mistake about Lana Fink. She's going as a pool shark. Rack 'em up.

Break out the oils and rubs. Nadia Nicole decided she'd go as a beach bum.

Holly's narrowed it down to four ideas, but she still can't pick between dual-prop aviator,

single prop,

general heavy machinery operator,

or chopper girl.

Carrie's also undecided. She could go as a balcony security guard,

a zoo patron,

or a lifeguard. Decisions, decisions.

Then there's Cayenne. Here decision between home decor expert

and hitchhiker is a toughy. A scorching sizzler even.

Bridget Maasland can't decide which color scheme she'll go with,

but rest assured, her outfit will be garden-related.

Melany Denyse is keeping it simple. She'll go as a professional model. Count it!

Emily Scott got tired of people asking her what she was supposed to be dressed up as, therefore, she decided to write it out.

Erica Campbell doesn't believe in trick-or-treating. She's just going to stay home in something comfortable and relax in her easy chair. And that's fine with us.

Abbey Brooks has always wanted to go as a pool-maintenance girl. This year she cashes in on that dream.

Alyssa Lovelace has a few gypsy options she's weighing.

We're confident that either option will be a success.

Finally, Angie Savage tends to hit the streets as an all-American shopping girl. Not a bad idea.

Double check that candy for open wrappers and don't let the kiddies gorge themselves. Well, not after tonight anyway.

(Thanks, as always, to z0d, Daily Niner, Bullz-Eye and Savvy.)

Happy Haunting!
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Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Tradition Tuesday: Chailey's & Dry vs. PySaw

The rough focus of this blog is the rivalry between the Kansas City Chiefs (heralded by Bankmeister) and the Denver Broncos (championed by Cecil and Old No. 7). It may seem unfair that it's two versus one, but once KC gets that second Super Bowl win we'll even out the delegation.

Seven years ago we started The Tradition, in which Bronco fans travel out to the Truman Sports Complex with their team, and Chief lovers return to the Rocky Mountains with theirs. We tailgate, we talk massive amounts of shit, our wives are occasionally assaulted by rival fans, and we almost always watch the visiting team lose. It's a grand old time.

Here at the HoG, we're going to keep The Tradition going with Tradition Tuesday--a weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

Leading up to the first of two Tradition Weeks here on the HoG, we've got some interesting things going on matchup-wise. As the world of football bloggery knows, Brett Favre and the Pack just left AmCoVesCapIn with a shocking OT victory; Shanahanigans would be denied their late-game field goal trickery. Now, on a short week, the Pack rolls into the 'Head for a squaring off of Favre against the one team he has never defeated. It's no secret the Pack can't run the ball; Old No. 4 likes to heave the long ball. And he can do so with success against the alleged best corner duo in the league, also known as Champ Bailey and Dre Bly, or as I like to call them,

Chailey's and Dry.

Yes. Mr. Fah-vuh-ruh just lit up this pair to the tune of a buck eighty through the air, the receivers to whom he was throwing were no seasoned veterans by any stretch. And, I'm not sure how to say this properly in English, but here goes: It fucking ruled. Yes, the collective Bronco fan base was forced to remove the shafts of Chailey's and Dry from their orifii for a moment, slide the hairy bean bag over and say, "Well, I guess 'shutdown' is subjective."

Don't get me wrong. The Chiefs cornerback duo of Pat Surtain and Ty Law -- a.k.a. PySaw -- is prett abysmal. In fact, I'm not sure there's a worse duo in the league. Come to think of it, this duo

could probably cover receivers with more shrewdness and mobility, but what can you do. Granted, you can say cool cut-that-meat things about them, like the following:

1) Ty Law historically owns Peyton Manning, especially in the post-season.
2) Pat Surtain was allegedly an outstanding prep quarterback in New Orleans and once started a high school all-star game in place of Peyton Manning.

Neither of those tidbits will get you into the playoffs (playoffs?!?), though.

That said, the Broncos travel to Ford Field this week, where 10-win Kitna, who apparently mixes humor with God, looks to keep his surprisingly accurate prediction on pace. Meanwhile, Mike McCarthy and company will lose to the favored Chiefs, setting up one hell of a kickass debut to the 2007 version of The Tradition. Stay tuned.
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Sunday, October 28, 2007

These Here Baseballs

I know I promised a post about why New Englanders make such asshole fans, but I realized that said post could, quite literally, go on indefinitely. And as I've no desire to shit myself in this chair--well, not on my first drink anyway--I'll leave it alone. Besides, the sporting world could use a respite from that part of the country. (Ed. note: Ol' No. 7 is a lifelong Red Sox homer but managed to escape the actual Bostonian curse, i.e. gameday douchebaggery, because his parents had the foresight to raise him deep, deep in southern Colorado, far from Narragansett, lobster and Southie. I, on the other hand, was raised a Cubs fan and remain a loser regardless of geography.)

Instead, let's try catching up on some stuff. Like the fact that the Rockies--I'm contractually bound to root for them unless they're playing the Cubs--are one game away from a lavatorial clockwising of their best season ever.

I didn't honestly think they'd beat the Sox. Boston has too many good starters and too many big bats, and they seized that late momentum while the Rocks played simulated 4-inning jerkoffs. But I didn't expect them to be this bad. Take last night. Please.

I mean, wow. Josh Fogg looked terrible, worse than he has in months. Brian Fuentes needed to have a solid one-two-three inning, he quickly dropped trou and offered his own jelly. What looked like a possible sparkplug comeback, the kind of late-inning rally that would fire up the hometowners, devolved into another drab beating.

Give Boston all the credit here. Francona stole Hurdle's magic managerial keychain. Their rookies outplayed Colorado's--Pedroia is the real schlemiel, despite his multiple hemp necklaces and gerbilesque visage. Youkilis got hot at the perfect time, even J.D. Drew decided to leave the world of Suck behind for a few nights. I hope he at least tried a hot dog while he was here.

Having said all that, I have hopes that Cook will win tonight. Delay the inevitable...ah, fuck that. Let's stanch this wound now. I say Boston takes it with a 7-5 victory and celebrates in front of the Monforts' offices with a pile of underage hookers and cheap Mexican heroin.

And here is the rest of it.
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Pickin' & Grinnin': Week Eight, I Think

This'll be a short dispatch from the road, as I'm getting ready to hop in a car and spend an NFL Sunday driving across Colorado. It's the price you have to pay to witness history, I guess. I just hope a game is on the radio.

This week there are quite a few lines I like, as opposed to the colossal piles of shit we've been subjected to over the past month. But just because I like a spread doesn't mean I'm exposing it to the hard-earned Benjamin Cheese. For that, my friend, I have to fall in love.

By the way, the move to the Cheese was a roaring success last week. We went 4-1, with the only blemish the Steelers loss that saved the Broncos' season. Feel free to check the archives to compile a season aggregate, because I'm not going to. There's continental breakfast to be had, jackass. The picks...

No team is harder to figure out on a week-to-week basis than the Panthers. But this week they host the Colts, who are easy to comprehend. They'll win, and they'll cover the seven and a half. The Pick: Colts -7 1/2

Pittsburgh played slightly beneath their capabilities at Invesco last week and they'll bounce back against the awful Bengals. This line makes me think I've missed some big news, like Big Ben and Coach Epps got arrested in an undercover child sodomy sting. One can only dream. The Pick: Steelers -4 1/2

Dog time: I don't care if Jay Alves is playing quarterback for the Jags (obscure Rockies ticket fiasco reference), they're not losing to Tampa today. Take the points, take the money line (+170), take the rent money and take that shit to the bank. The Pick: Jaguars +4

I'm sure everyone has heard this amazing, amazing bit o' trivia. Tom Brady and Peyton Manning, on a collision course for an epic war of undefeated football morality next Sunday, have both defeated 30 NFL teams. They both face off today against the one franchise other than their own that they've never bested: Peyton gets the Panthers while Brady gets the Skins. Anyway, enough with the Chris Berman jabber-jabber. I know that the Patriots have covered even the most ludicrous spreads this season. And I know they're the most focused team in the history of this game we call football. But I've got a feeling, a feeling originating deep within my scrotum, that Washington will give them a game today. Not win, but scare these Masshole death merchants. The Pick: Redskins +16 1/2

And finally we have the Monday Nighter from Denver. It's looking more and more like this game will run minus crosstown baseball competition, but nonetheless it's still battle of two overrated teams with big issues. I will halfheartedly endorse the visitors from Green Bay, on the premise that...who am I kidding I just love betting against this particular Shanahan team. And if they should once again defy my expectations and win this game, I will once again weep with the emotion of a first time father, unless I'm watching the World Series instead. The Pick: Packers +3
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Thursday, October 25, 2007

WS Game 2: Schill v. U-Ball

Well, that wasn't really much to write home about last night. Why is it that the World Series has started to resemble many Super Bowls, with one of the game's best teams playing the worst possible ball? Last year Detroit was awful, the year before that Houston failed to show up, and the year before that St. Louis bumbled their way to a four-game loss.

And now the Rocks stand on the cusp of delivering yet another horrible losing performance by the losing team in the Fall Classic. All hope is not lost, of course, for the hometown nine. There's a game to play tonight against a feeble old pitcher. So you're sayin' there's a chance. Here is My Guide To Beating My Red Sox...

Throw strikes. Yeah, sounds simple, but Jeff Francis fell into the trap that most pitchers do against the Boston lineup. They're so dangerous that everyone gets a case of the nibbles. You either walk a full compliment of baserunners or lob BP fastballs to hot sticks. Ubaldo Jimenez is in possession of Josh-Beckett-level filth, but he needs to command it to slow down the Red Sox attack. Remember how good Sabathia and Carmona were this year, and how shitty they pitched when they didn't throw strikes against Theo's lineup.

Hit strikes. Schilling can't bring it at 95 any more, but he's still one of the best in the game at limiting walks. If his breaking pitches are off a little he's very hittable, because he constantly pounds the strike zone with fastballs. The Rockies need to capitalize.

Obtain the tacos. Once the Rocks get on base, they need to start running. Schill does not have a good move, and what the fuck do you have to lose. Also, feel free to bunt and make the old man field his position, hit and run, suicide, hook and ladder, etc.

Get the game to the bullpens. Last night was not indicative of the weapon the Rocks have in relief. If they can take a lead or a tie to the sixth, seventh and eighth, they can hang on with their bridge to Corpas.

But, whatever, we'll see what happens. Go Sox!
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Wednesday, October 24, 2007

The Taco Theory

One last note before this game starts: The team that wins the Series will dominate the tacos. Let me explain. Taco Bell is giving America a free taco for the first stolen base in the World Series. And the running game is the easiest way for Colorado to even the offensive playing field.

Think about it: Varitek doesn't throw anyone out anymore, Beckett doesn't hold anyone on, and Dice-K struggles out of the stretch. If Tavares, Matsui and even Spilborghs can get on, they can run. And if they run, they can score. And if they score, they can win.

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We Are Hot Chicks Wednesday: Bundling Up

As we roll into the final week of October, er, sorry, Actober, it's time to transition into World Series baseball, mid-season football, and bundling up. Trust me when I say that these three things blend better together than peanut butter, jelly, and bread. Football games are getting grittier with the wind and the cold affecting passing games. Defenses will be hungrier to hit; coaches more apt to run the ball, and field goal kickers looking through the "Help Wanted" ads. The World Freaking Series will be split between Denver, CO and Boston, MA. It doesn't get much chillier than that. The ringing of the bat off a hitter's hands; the imperativeness of keeping your hurler's arm warm and loose; Manny Ramirez trying to figure out how to stay warm when he can't cuddle with David Ortiz in the dugout. Then there's the fans. They, in a nutshell, are darn cold in those stands. That's why the HoG is here to help the fan stay cozy, be it in the seats, at home on the couch, or even inside the neighborhood saloon with those pesky doors swinging open and shut all the while.

Enjoying the Last of It

If you're a San Diego Chargers fan, and you live somewhere where your world is not on fire, or if you live somewhere that's not yet chilly, enjoy the last warm days of fall while you can. Translated, make like Zdenka Podkapova and dig yourself some warm pre-Indian Summer breeze.

You could also be like Codi Milo and enjoy the already-turning leaves of your habitat, and just plain be excited for football.

Cassia Riley knows that her season-ending pool party must have the perfect mix of shade and sunlight, or else she'll have a patio full of chilly guests. Beware of the late afternoon breeze/shade combo.

Adele Stephens, on the other hand, has got her system queued like a sundial; amount of sunlight available directly proportionate to attire. Kudos, Adele.

Adapting to the Environment

Everyone knows that 70% of the body's heat escapes from the head. And by "everyone," I mean Pamela Camassa. Thanks, Pam, for leading by example, and taking cover.

If you don't own the gear necessary for warmth maintenance, the body's got to keep moving in order to stay warm. This is not news for Sunny Cruz.

Kate Brenner's a little more prepared. She's all about layers.

Then there's Jo Garcia. Her motto is to forget all that preparation; she'll just keep the temperature of her home ideal.

Katie Fey's a little more frugal. The temperature of her home is comfortable, but she also knows where the hot spots are.

Kimberly Holland

Miss Holland gets a section all her own.

Whether the strategy is keeping warm via tan skin,

soaking up the rays from the afternoon's front-porch reflection,

basking in artificial rays,

preparing a nice warm bath,

or simply being a warm, friendly neighbor, Miss Holland's got the answer.

Last Resort

Of course, in times of need, there are sections of the body that naturally produce heat. The HoG urges you to become familiar with them, utilize them.

And nothing spells soothing warmth like the body temperature of another person. Don't be afraid. It works every time.

These, of course, are mere suggestions. The methods by which one can prepare for the changing of the seasons are plentiful. And the House is always here to help. Stop by again soon for further advice. We're always here to give.

(Photos courtesy, as usual, of z0d, Bullz-Eye, Daily Niner, and Gorilla Mask.)
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WS Game 1: Francis v. Beckett

It occurred to me last night that I have a grave responsibility. There's a distinct possibility that no one, or at least no one in the blogosphere, has watched as much collective Red Sox-Rockies baseball as me. I logged 120+ Boston games this season and roughly half of the Colorado schedule. I spent many, many nights witnessing both the Red Sox contest back East at 5 pm, followed by the Rockies playing an NL West opponent at either 7 or 8.

Am I the most qualified individual for this post? I was quite possibly the worst baseball player in America during my Little League career. But I am certified by the BCS computers as the 1216th-best sports blogger on the StubTubes, so you're in good hands. So buckle up and witness the reckless mediocrity that is the House of Georges' Game One Gangbang...

First things first, this game may not take place until tomorrow. Or at least not conclude until tomorrow. There's a good amount of rain in the forecast, and when Fenway was erected in 1912 the retractable dome was not yet in fashion. So expect showers, delays and wetness aplenty.

No one knows how much precipitation will affect the Game One starters. Josh Beckett has been blister prone during his career, but this season he's had no issues (it was an avulsion, you hear me?). Regardless, for a guy who relies on grip so much, especially on that jaw-dropping deuce, moisture may affect his dominance.

Francis grew up in British Columbia, where it rains a lot. Also, i hear that Canadian dudes really like handling sopping wet balls. So there you have it.

I have not seen lineups announced yet, but if I were a dumb manager this is what I would do:


1. Matsui(B) 2B
2. Tulowitzki (R) SS
3. Holliday (R) LF
4. Helton (L) 1B
5. Atkins (R) 3B
6. Hawpe (L) DH
7. Spilborghs (R) RF
8. Torrealba (R) C
9. Tavares (R) CF


1. Pedroia (R) 2B
2. Youkilis (R) 1B
3. Ortiz (L) DH
4. Ramirez (R) LF
5. Lowell (R) 3B
6. Drew (L) RF
7. Varitek (B) C
8. Ellsbury (L) CF
9. Lugo (R) SS

I think moving Tulo to the 2-spot makes the Rockies more dangerous, and after you go once through the order you still get the 1-2 punch of Tavares and Matsui. As for the Red Sox, the temptation's always there to get the speed of Ellsbury into the top of the order. But you simply can't mess with the success of Pedroia and Yook up there, especially against the lefty Francis.

By the way, Jeff Francis is still the only pro athlete ever with the name "Francis" that has not been dubbed "Franchise." And let's hope it stays that way, it's a lame, lame nickname.

Update: The actual lineups are out, via the Boston Globe...


1. Willy Taveras, CF
2. Kaz Matsui, 2B
3. Matt Holliday, LF
4. Todd Helton, 1B
5. Garrett Atkins, 3B
6. Brad Hawpe, RF
7. Troy Tulowitzki, SS
8. Yorvit Torrealba, C
9. Ryan Spilborghs, DH

Red Sox

1. Dustin Pedroia, 2B
2. Kevin Youkilis, 1B
3. David Ortiz, DH
4. Manny Ramirez, LF
5. Mike Lowell, 3B
6. Jason Varitek, C
7. J.D. Drew, RF
8. Julio Lugo, SS
9. Jacoby Ellsbury, CF
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Dumb & Dumber

I was a big baseball card guy back in the 80s. Every day that I could muster the change to buy a pack of Topps I'd hustle down to the corner store. If I was lucky, I'd get a Boggs, a Mattingly, a Pete Rose. If the stars were aligned, I might hit the jackpot with a Gooden or a Strawberry.

But what I'd normally end up with was a Terry Francona or a Clint Hurdle.

These two guys, the managers of the two World Series participants, both had journeyman careers as ballplayers. They both seem like gregarious fellows, good guys to knock back a pint with. And they're both dumber than a bag of hammers.

I've advanced the theory many times that baseball managers don't do a fucking thing. That's an oversimplification, of course, but their contribution is one of the most overrated aspects of baseball. Football coaches do something. Baseball managers chew shit and scratch nuts.

I'd say that the three best managers in the game today are Joe Torre, Tony La Russa and Jim Leyland. But none of them comes close to making the difference that Bill Belichick makes.

Torre is the best I've ever seen at steering a ship through the grind of a six-month regular season. He's been lousy in the playoffs this century, mostly because he never changes his script and falls asleep in the dugout. But the fact that he worked under Steinbrenner for 12 years shows you how solid he is.

La Russa is the anti-Torre. He's always looking to try some weird shit, and he's never afraid of any move. He's been brilliant in the postseason, winning World Series titles in both leagues with Oakland and St. Louis as well as taking the White Sox to the playoffs. There is no other manager that could have won a championship with that St. Louis club last year. Conversely, La Russa could never run the Yankees as effectively as Torre did, because he's a spaz.

The best overall manager is probably Leyland, but I'll hate that chain-smoking fuck until the day I die. Sure, he was great with the Pirates, great with the Marlins and he's been great with the Tigers, but in between those jobs he mailed in a short, ineffective stint with the Rockies. He admitted that he was burned out, and he set the franchise back several years. Great manager though.

Neither Francona nor Hurdle make that short list, but neither will make the difference in winning or losing this series either. Francona is more from the Torre school--he's fiercely loyal to his guys and will never show anybody up. Look at how long he took to swap Coco for Ellsbury, and how long he left Matsuzaka and Okajima in on Sunday night. Shades of Grady Little allowing Pedro to leave himself in in 2003.

Hurdle, like La Russa, tries to reinvent the wheel too often. He pulls cute, goofy strategic ploys that often backfire. During this playoff run, however, everything he's done has worked out flawlessly. During both of Franklin Morales' starts, one against the Phillies and one against the D'Bags, he pulled the young lefty early in the game for a pinch-hitter. Jackpot and jackpot. Every reliever he inserts gets the job done. Replacing Spilborghs in center with Tavares for the NLCS paid off immediately. This team has the magic, and Hurdle is on a roll.

There will certainly be spots in these games where Francona and Hurdle will make (or decline to make) ballsy moves, and those will be second-guessed forever. But the most important decisions will probably take place off the field, such as the switch in Game 4 starters. Instead of Tim Wakefield and Morales on Sunday, it looks as though we'll witness Jon Lester and Aaron Cook, neither of whom has started a game in more than a month.

Likewise, the divergent rules of the two leagues and the vast differences in the two ballparks will dictate other moves. I think that the Rockies should employ the DH not as an offensive position but a defensive one, replacing Brad Hawpe with Spilborghs in right field. Hawpe is not a bad outfielder, but Fenway's RF corner is tricky and Spilborgh would man it more deftly. Hawpe could then DH and focus on his ABs against Beckett and Schilling.

Francona, who loses his DH for games 3-5, will face a much more complex decision. He either pulls the most dangerous hitter in the Series, his DH David Ortiz, or he significantly downgrades his already disadvantaged defense by pulling Mike Lowell or Kevin Youkilis from the lineup.

Regardless, this Series will be decided by the players on the field, not these two bad baseball cards.
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Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Tradition Tuesday: Nothing Worse Than Saying "Bye"

The rough focus of this blog is the rivalry between the Kansas City Chiefs (heralded by Bankmeister) and the Denver Broncos (championed by Cecil and Old No. 7). It may seem unfair that it's two versus one, but once KC gets that second Super Bowl win we'll even out the delegation.

Seven years ago we started The Tradition, in which Bronco fans travel out to the Truman Sports Complex with their team, and Chief lovers return to the Rocky Mountains with theirs. We tailgate, we talk massive amounts of shit, our wives are occasionally assaulted by rival fans, and we almost always watch the visiting team lose. It's a grand old time.

Here at the HoG, we're going to keep The Tradition going with Tradition Tuesday--a weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

If there's one thing I can't flippin' stand about football season, it's the bye week. It's sort of a semi-hypocritical thing, right? We all cherish our days off, but don't want our teams' players to get any r and r. I say "semi" because most of us --at least the HoG, anyway -- don't play a game for a living, or have to buy bigger homes in which to store our countless piles of dollars. Philosophy aside though, it sucks. The early, afternoon, night and MNF games chug along and none of it involves the only team that matters: mine. So heading into bye-week Sunday, I typically make all of these grandiose plans for projects around the house, none of which get done because -- shocker -- I wind up watching football all day anyway.

And, shoot. By the time MNF airs, one day from when my team takes the field again has already been chiseled away. That, of course, only leads to the worry of how they'll be coming off the bye. Insert any of the season-appropriate questions: Will the momentum of the pre-bye win carry into the post-bye game? Did all the players fly off to various parts of the country to eat drugs and guzzle booze? Did they catch some of the gift that keeps on giving (Editor's Note: see Ron Mexico and Lima Time. Be-LIEVE it!?)

Course, guys like Seven'd say that momentum doesn't exist and all of those factors are horse dookie; get out there and play the game. I, however, cannot. I will not. Prime example: The Kansas City Chiefs, in the 2006 playoffs, take almost three full quarters to get a first down. By the end of the "contest," they'd netted one touchdown and a two-point conversion. Fast forward to this year where they lost all four pre-season games plus the opener and week two. Now, obviously, a lot of time passed in that span, but one must at least consider such an interesting intangible. Conversely, Jason Elam, after his week off, snapped his losing streak and notched another W for Shanny on Sunday night.

And that brings me back to the task at hand: The Tradition. Yes. The Broncos are right back in the AFC West thick of things. In an astonishing bucking of all trends, they'll have consecutive prime-time matchups when they host Brett Favre and the Green Bay Packers on Monday night (Note: Wow. Look at this! This is really neat! They'll have two more Monday night games and a late-season Thursday nighter, too. More than a quarter of their season on national television, a genuine reaping of the rewards for not making the playoffs. Amazing!). And then, they'll tickle the little nephew with Jon 10-win Kitna and the Lions, just before rolling into Arrowhead. This matchup will be the first time in four years that the Broncos have traveled to KC first, which, if superstition is like momentum, may affect their preposterously atrocious winter record at the 'Head. On the other hand, the Chiefs haven't won at InAmVesCapCo since the Iron Triangle members were all single, and by "single," I mean not wed, Cecil's wife.

That said, all you HoGnation loyalists had best be ready to geek out with us here on these old IntraNets. Obviously, by "geek out," I mean that I'll post a solid five better-than-stellar posts, while Seven cranks out a solid post-World-Series orgasm paragraph and Cecil continues to find a random picture to pretty up his monthly appearance. Enough about us, though. Our teams have some interesting developments going on.

Apparently, this guy told Phil Simms and Jim Nantz that he'd be embarrassed if he told them all of the things physically wrong with him that are results of six weeks of football. I say six because he told them this the day before he went out and got tossed around like Lindsay Lohan's poon at a rehab clinic, courtesy of Warren Sapp and the Raiders D. Incredibly unsavory. Simms and Nantz kept talking about the wind during Sunday's game, and I couldn't stop thinking about the countless hours I've spent tossing around the ol' pigskin. I was unable to finger a single memory where my pass was wobbly and eight yards off the mark because of the wind. I love Damon. He's been great for us in 15 games over the last two years. He looked beat up on Sunday, yet managed to get out of some serious jams and hit guys for big plays. I just hope our O-line can get it together and get this guy some protection.

This guy? Oh, yeah. He's back. Granted, he had a couple of negative plays in Oakland, but he also hammered out a crucial eight-yard run late in the game. To each and every one out there that said he'd never make it, that it was all about money, help yourself to a warm bowl of hangover diarrhea. Never doubt three-one. In other news, party in Denver: T-Hizzie's got the hooch; Brandon Marshall will drive and supply the liquor. Woo-hoo! And of course there's Sergeant Shenanigans himself. Yup. He was able to stave off the kharmic fate of the totally legal timeout. Thanks, buddy, for being so smart that you can't even cheat right.

God bless us.
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