Sunday Sermon: Today Brodie Rides

Hell, to the fuck yeah, baby. Arrowhead Pride, among others, is reporting that Matt Cassel is inactive to open the 2009 Kansas City Chiefs season at M&T Bank Stadium against the Baltimore Ravens. The folks at the CBS pre-game show are calling this the best decision that Todd Haley has made in his short time in Kansas City. They're calling Croyle the sacrificial lamb.

I frequently stand up for this booth over Fox's, but in this particular situation, I say fuck those clowns. Granted, Croyle is in a terrible situation. He's coming off a season filled with multiple injuries, and this will be his second kickoff-weekend start. He's facing an allegedly still-ferocious Ravens defense, and he no longer has Tony Gonzalez as an option. What's worse, the Kansas City offensive line is nothing shy of Swiss Chiefs.

Brodie has lived, though, to bang another day when many thought he would not be on the Chiefs roster after 2008. Memory fails to recall another NFL player in recent seasons with so many doubters, so few giving him the support that translates to confidence. He hasn't shown much to deserve such support, but he's also played for some really bad teams. I'm still on the Brodie bandwagon, though. I got nothing against Cassel, but I'd love for a nation of many to eat their fat-mouthed words. Go get 'em, kid.
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Welcome to the Week Of Shit

At one point I'd imagined that today would be a pretty good day. I might have sat here with my Broncos at 6-2, perhaps, and looming as a fast, versatile, dangerous team. I might have looked down from my mighty mountaintop and far across the high steppe of the Middle West to a metroplex on the Kansas/Missouri border, the Home...Of The...Chiefs. And I might have seen another team, maybe 5-3 or even 6-2 itself, that was building upon its surprise playoff appearance last season, adding to the development of its improving defense, and scaring the shit right out of me.

Today is not that day.

No, kids out there in the HoGosphere, today we sit a mere week away from witnessing an ugly smudge on the storied rivalry that is The Tradition. On Sunday, at venerable old Arrowhead, some 79,451 poor souls will witness about as lousy a matchup as the National Football League can deliver.

Now 79,448 of those saps will not give you premium House of Georges-level predictions and reactions concerning this debacle. But the famed Iron Triangle will be in attendance, and we will all unsheath our swords of footballery and wave them menacingly in the air to produce pronouncements worthy of the Karl Mecklenburgs and Buck Buchanans of yore. Or we'll just drink our old and flabby carcasses into a miserable heap and barely make kickoff. One of the two.

So welcome, misguided fan of AFC West football, to the Week Of Shit (patent Pending).

Fans of our two California representatives in this division, the kid-raping Raiders and pansy-sniffing Chargers, refer to the six days building up to their twice-yearly showdowns as "Hell Week." I used to listen to a lot of Jim Rome radio, back when he merely dabbled in the black arts of television and before he sold his soul to the four-letter network. Rome talked about his days as a jock on a San Diego sports talk affiliate, when Hell Week would come around and Raider Nation and the Chardonnay Merchant Marine would flood his show with calls. Rome always hated Hell Week, and now I know how he feels.

Making this trip is truly the last thing I want to do. These teams both really suck, and this game is going to be terrible. We may watch Patrick Ramsey throw to Glenn Martinez ten times. We may see a touchdown (or two) from some dude named Kolby Smith. We will certainly witness multiple repetitions of The Phony Formerly Known As Priest Holmes. It makes one long for the glory days of not too long ago, when half-ass bastards like Brian Griese, Dante Hall and Clinton Portis' mom roamed the fabled Arrowhead turf. Now those were some slightly-better-than-mediocre teams you could rally behind.

But what am I going to do, bitch? I get to fly to Denver, find a barstool in the B Concourse and knock back a dozen Sam Adams. Then I get to awkwardly hug Cecil and hop on a jet airplane bound for KC. We'll ogle the flight attendants, who will probably be men from Poland. And then we'll spill into the waiting courtesy vehicle piloted by Bankmeister and kill lots of barbecued flesh and canned beer. Good times.

You know who's trade roles with me in a minute? This guy. He's about the most hard core motherfucker I've ever seen. He's rockin the Zubaz, he's throwin down some dope signage, and he's totally up on his Broncohistoricals. Like, when asked who (whom?) his favorite former Bronco is, he drops twelve on yo ass. And one of 'em is Tony Braxton. Yo, corn flake. It's Tyrone Braxton, you fucking moron. Toni Braxton is an R&B singer that once demolished the Dallas Mavericks. Keep it straight.

I know that Broncosapien would kill to go on this trip, and he would keep it real to boot. And so I'm doing it for you, brother. You, the douchebag that makes me ashamed to root for this team (even more than their lousy record and crappy tackling). I will take this bullet for you.
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Scoutin' Those Chiefs: Week 2's 20-10 Loss @ Chicago

I'm gonna keep this evaluation real simple. Week two's trip to Chicago had some highs and some lows. In a nutshell, the offense got going more so than they did in week one. (Editor's Note: This is extremely not hard to do considering all the Chiefs mustered in Houston was one lousy stinking field goal.). Furthermore, the defense looked like they are in fact -- KC media instigated then publicized this idea all week -- on the way to becoming a defense that will one day be as good as the Bears'. Well, at least as good as the Bears' D was last year. Third, the special teams played hit and miss football. Ultimately, this team was in the game late in the fourth quarter (Note: Some players said that Herm made that their game plan. Hey, Herm -- how 'bout winning? You know? Playing to wi- Nevermind.) and had numerous chances to match, if not surpass, the total number of points the defending NFC champs put on the board. And they didn't. Here's my estimation as to why.

The O

Damon Huard

While I still have faith in Huard, he looked real ginger out there on Sunday. No, I don't mean like a red-headed kid smattered with freckles. I mean as in on the verge of sustaining a variety of injuries. He still looked poised in the pocket and had a decent day of throwing, but for the first time, I wondered how long he should be the guy in charge.

Larry Johnson

Holdout hangover time is over. Sixteen carries? For fear of flipping out, I'll say no more on this. Update: Yes I will. Just give the man the damn ball.

Eddie Kennison

While Ed nurses his hammy, Dwayne Bowe, Jeff Webb and Samie Parker need to find their respective identities as a corps and fast.

Welbourn/Turley

The left side of this O-line is protecting the seemingly nimble Huard. The right side is not. They must step up immediately before KC fans start wishing we had Jordan Black to plug in over there.

The D

These guys did an above-resectable job on Sunday. My only criticism would be that they need to keep a non-superstar runner like Cedric Benson under the century mark.

Special Teams

So far Eddie Drummond outright sucks. I see why the Lions cut him. Ray Farmer -- get on the horn and get Justin Phinisee back in here. Or someone. On the other in of this unit, I know Devin Hester is good, but set up a counter wedge or something. Get in there and make some effort to tackle.

That's about it. This team, as rusty as they looked in the first two weeks, is still capable of winning a nice chunk of games. These are the areas they must fine tune immediately, though in order to get back on track and be competitive.
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