Luck vs. Competence

Personally, I'd take either. But when it comes to tackle football, particularly the variety played by the Broncos of Denver's Mile High Kingdom, I have a little trouble sussing out the difference.

For instance, each of the last two weeks, we've had a 21-3 lead over our opponent--and each of the last two weeks, we've blown it. We've scored touchdowns in bunches and given them right back in bunches of similar size. It would be hard to imagine two more nose-crinkling performances than those last ones, and we're a blown call and a missed field goal away from being 1-3 instead of 3-0. But what does it all mean?

Don't look at me. Fuck if I know.

I do know that we have the lead in the division. I know that Cutler is still a little rough around the edges. I know that Brandon Marshall is a stud and that a horse runs around our field after we score and that Karl Mecklenburg was awesome. I know I drank a shit-ton of Miller Lite today and it's making me gassy.

I also know that this next weekend we revisit The Tradition, aka the more-than-rough focus of this blog, for the first time in 2008. I know that we'll be devouring smoked meast, drinking too much Kansas City corn liquor and wearing team jerseys like 10 year-olds. I know that the Bronco-rootin' contingent of 7 and I will say untoward things to enormous, glowering hillbillies, spill full cups of beer on innocent senior citizens and be thankful that at no point will we have to play hockey.

I know that, despite every indicator to the contrary, The Administrator will be pissing vinegar about his squad's chances, practicing his tomahawk choppin' and parking us next to squadrons of like-minded, Crown-swilling teenagers with undeveloped ideas about their own sexuality. I know this, all of it.

And while it may not be much, I further know that the Chefs stand as much chance of winning this game as I do of staying at all sober throughout the long weekend.

Predictions will come later, but for now, this fan of the NFL's Luckiest Team is ready to climb into that Arrowhead Catbird Seat. Bring on the Thigpen!


Image from http://www.triumphbooks.com