Monday Miscellany: Who'll Suck Most?; or Maybe They Should Just Play Each Other 16 Times

Right quick, both House of Georges teams have yet to win a game in the first pre-season to follow franchise overhauls. Crystal ball says it'll be a long season. Linkless highlights after the jump.

Thus far this pre-season, the Denver Broncos have seen their number one receiver suspended, Kyle Orton booed, witnessed him throw a hearty number of picks, and seen Chris Simms, son of a giant pussy, get hurt. They also saw Jay Cutler come into their home (last night) and light up team Orange and Gold.

The Kansas City Chiefs, on the other hand, have seen their number one receiver demoted, repremoted, their number one quarterback sprain his MCL, which of course comes one week after a two-week-long quarterback controversy, and their offense, basically, fail to do much of anything. This last bit resulted in Chan Gailey, offensive coordinator, being relieved of his duties this morning.

So, at a collective 0-6, what do these teams have going for them?

The answer: good kickers.

Yee. Haw.
Read more

Thursday ThumbTubes & YouNails: 3-19-09

The third Thursday in March used to mean something to me. I remember getting excited for the NCAA tournament and doing brackets some 20 years ago, and at the time, it was pretty novel because only myself and like three other friends would do one. It seemed as if we couldn't recruit people to participate. Well, like everything else sports/media related, the science of bracketology has just plain gotten out of hand. It's been a number of years now that we've had to adapt to the fact that women are participating in brackets, and allow me to remind you to back up a solid 5000 yards if they win one. Those victories are equated to the second coming of the Messiah. But Christ, I caught a significant portion of Rome today, and it seems like that was all he talked about: bracket updates (with obnoxious air-raid siren), and e-mails from bracketers, and tips on how to get away with watching the games at work. He skipped out on several stories he "wanted to get to," like, oh, I dunno, Jay Cutler. Sure. I'm still into the Madness, but come on.

Now this is the moment where I invite you past the jump to look at some stuff. And yes, some of said some stuff has to do with brackets. Sigh.

The House of Georges affinity for Team America has



taken a shot to the ball of yard. And with that open wound comes a hefty dose of salt.



"The desperation defensive deployment backfired Wednesday night in the World Baseball Classic when Dunn made a wild throw that led to four unearned runs, and Venezuela won Group 2 by beating the Americans 10-6 to conclude second-round play in Miami...Both teams had already qualified for the semifinals this weekend in Los Angeles. Injury-plagued Team USA is expected to make several roster moves before then."

At least the club can take solace in the fact that they have qualified for the next round, and, well, there's this:



which makes us feel good knowing that there aren't any gays on the roster.

In news of the slightly less comforting, it's HoG noteworthy that there is Royalty in Kansas City.



Let's hope his latest stop can contain appropriate behavior and good production.

Speaking of good, our old pals over at Bugs & Cranks have an interesting series going. They've also graced us with this:



And quickly abandoning such an impressive theme, onto the White House and brackets, courtesy of Awful Announcing:



And since we're in the neighborhood, you've got to see this if you haven't already:



Jumping from the hardwood to the ice, Hugging Harold Reynolds takes us to Total Pro Sports, who put together this piece



on the newest all-time winningest goaltender in the NHL: Marty Brodeur.

And we'd be off-kilter if we didn't touch more on Jay Cutler. To keep the kilter balanced, however, we've got to include a Chief story, even if it's about a former Chief becoming a Chief again.

That's gonna wrap 'er up for the Tubes and Nails today. Same time, same place next week. We'll be the ones typing.
Read more

Thursday ThumbTubes & YouNails: 10-30-08

Well, we'll keep it simple today. No, not for the usual reason of laziness, but because the wife's out of town and that means there's nudey bars to drink and beers to waste money at. I know. The polls are really up on me getting the HotY (Husband of the Year) Award. What's that? Bonus points if today's her birthday, too? Zing! I'm a shoe-in. If only I'd conveniently forgotten her gift, and saved some more money for slothage, I could've made it a landslide. But hey, I had to at least convince her I'd behave.

Anyway, a few morsels lie ahead. They all have to do with balls that have lacing entwined in them. One of them involves a sport whose season just ended; the other's related to a campaign that's about half done. You know where you can find them...

Just when you thought the baseballin' was over, here comes plenty of baseball tibdits, like the fact that the Royals just sent reliever Leo Nunez to the Florida Marlins for Mike Jacobs.



Mike hit 32 long balls, drove in 93 runs and hit .247 with an OBP of .299 last season. I sure liked the first three of those stats better than the last two. Royals General Manager Dayton Moore, however, likes that he does so from the left side of the batter's box, and thinks that giving up Nunez is a bullpen gap the Royals can semi-easily fill.

Then there's Jeff Kent. Our very own Old No. 7 told us earlier in the year what a class act he is.



It appears, though, that Mr. Kent has once again outdone himself, this time coughing up 15 large towards the banning of gay marriage.

Then there's the city of Brotherly Love, happily and destructively celebrating their newly crowned champion Philadelphia Phillies.



Though dangerous, that looks like a lot more fun and a wee more safe than this one...



(both courtesy of Awful Announcing)

But enough about baseball. We'll stick with the crafty work of AA, and move on to football for a gem from the endless list of jewels Michael Irvin has given us over the years...



Then there's the big story that both John McCain and Barack Obama will appear on Monday Night Football next week, which, you know, nets a viewer or two and airs the night before election day. Since the House agrees on its candidate, and has no problem lifting images from the zany Kissing Suzy Kolber clan, we take no issue in hiding behind confidentiality...



And along the lines of Chiefs/Broncos pigskinnery, the only news Kansas City-wise is that Larry Johnson (props to Arrowhead Pride)



has fired his agent (shocker),




and that Broncos fans think every Bronco to ever don a blue-and-gold uniform belongs in Canton (double shock).

And that's about it for today, kids. Tune in tomorrow. We'll all get our learn on. Or something.
Read more

Tradition Tuesday: Herman's Mixtape (and more!)

Editor's Note: 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 vs. one, but once KC gets that second Super Bowl 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 Chef-lovers return to the Rocky Mountains with theirs. We tailgate, we talk massive amounts of shit, our wives occasionally get 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 alive all year long with Tradition Tuesday--a weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

IT'S A HARD KNOCK LIFE FOR US

In delightful news for The Tradition, the Kansas City Chiefs will be featured in this year's edition of the HBO show Hard Knocks. I can barely hide my glee over the notion that Herman will be regularly broadcast in unedited form, even though he is the rarest form of comedian: one that does not rely on vulgarity to get a laugh. I myself am a lousy comic, as my punch lines generally consist of multiple fuckity-fuck-fucks, the word pus and a graphic description of ass-boning a donkey.

Check out the video clip here. My blog-publishing skills, much like my comedy skills, are miniscule. I can not embed YouTube in my posts, and it fucking pisses me off. Sure, I could learn, but I could also volunteer to help retarded kids. Not happening. Watch the clip, which is bursting at the seams with good stuff. It has Herman, in all his nonsensical glory ("I'm a big believer in The Shield," he says). It has King Carl, informing us that there are Chefs season ticket holders in the District of Columbia. Good to know. It has Steve Sabol telling us that the Chief franchise is fully endorsed by Commissioner Roger Goodell, who's nothing short of a Marxist despot.

In short, I'm counting the seconds until this airs. I'm sure LJ will come off as very humble.

It's interesting to note the success of the two teams that have been featured on Hard Knocks in the past, the '01 Ravens and the '02 Cowboys. Baltimore was coming off of its championship season. Brian Billick showed incredible hubris in allowing HBO to document his greatness (as well as in replacing effective Trent Dilfer with Elvis Grbac). The team was significantly worse in their post-Hard Knocks season.

Dallas at that time was coached by the forgettable Dave Campo, and Hard Knocks served mostly as a vehicle for Jerry Jones to reveal his minimal football knowledge, orange tan and trampoline-tight facial skin. The 'Boys went 5-11, Campo got canned, Parcells replaced him and Hard Knocks was shelved...until now. Good times.

KANSAS CITY'S SAVIOR

I've held on to a dream for a long time. The dream involves a boy turning into a man, and that man eventually solving the longtime quarterback woes of the Kansas City Chiefs. The twist on this fairy tale is that the man is the son of John Elway.

Well, the dream is on track, and could honestly happen. Set your watches for April of 2011, Tradition fans, when young Jack could be eligible for the NFL Draft. The Chiefs could be coming out of their failed Brodie Croyle Experiment, and after a year or two with a midlevel stopgap (Kyle Boller, anyone?) could be desperate for a signal-caller. Young Jack has just finished an All-American career at USC (or LSU, or Michigan, it really doesn't fucking matter so long as it's not CU) and is the clear-cut best player in the Draft. KC is on the clock...WHAT WILL THEY DO? Should this scenario actually play out Bankmeister would drop dead of irony poisoning.

BRANCHING OUT

In just a few short months, the House of Georges has evolved from a slovenly bachelor shanty to the palatial mansion you now call home. It was only natural that the demand for Banky, Cecil and Old No. 7 would exceed the bandwith of the HoG, and so we're spreading some of our good cheer and misinformed principles to other locations on the World Wide Cyber-coms. As of this week, the Just The Fans Network has launched Predominantly Orange, a new Broncos blog prominently featuring Cecil and yours truly. Additionally, our pals over at Arrowhead Addict have signed Bankmeister to a long-term, incentive-laden contract. He'll be gracing AA with his Chef Surprise from time to time, so check it out too.

These side projects will allow us to riff on our NFL teams of choice brazenly and openly. The HoG will still deliver a steady diet of first-rate NBA and WNBA coverage, so don't lose any sleep.

And in a vaguely Simmonsesque move, we'd also like to announce a mysterious future project that may or may not infect more of your spare time and hard drive space. I can't give out any more details, because it is top fucking secret (and it may never actually happen), but I can safely say it does not involve us being filmed by an HBO reality crew in our daily lives, narrated by Steve Sabol. Yet.

Read more

Tradition Tuesday: The Next Man-Crush

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

Seven years ago we started The Tradition, in which the Broncos fans traveled out to the Truman Sports Complex with their team, and the Chef-lovers returned to the Rocky Mountains with theirs. We tailgate, we talk massive amounts of shit, our wives occasionally get 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 alive all year long with Tradition Tuesday--a weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

Today let's go down in the trenches, to a battle that may or may not define this series for years to come. KC signed defensive end Jared Allen to a new contract Monday (sorry for the ESPN link, but Pasquarelli scooped the fuck out of the Star this morning). The drunken maniac does provide a steady and effective pass rush for the Indian Chiefs, something that we Broncos fans know nothing about (the pass rush part, not the DUIs).

Who will keep Allen away from Screamin' Jay? The Broncos' tackle situation could not possibly be more of a mess. George Foster, a colossal first-round draft bust, was benched last season for sucking balls. Once replacement Adam Meadows was injured, Foster returned to the starting lineup, where he was easily the worst player in the NFL last year. He was traded to the Lions (thanks Matt Millen!) and will not be missed.

Moving forward, Meadows returns this season. Matt Lepsis comes back from his knee injury, which is probably karma for ending Terrell Davis' career, and will certainly start. Erik Pears, regardless of his bad ass alma mater, is backup material. There is a need for new blood at this critical position, and it may well exist in the person of the Broncos' third-round draft choice, Ryan Harris.

I grow more enamored with Harris every day. He certainly seems like the prototypical lineman in the Broncos' system, in that he's a good athlete, he's intelligent, and he might have a chip on his shoulder (he dropped to the third round due to concerns about his size). I like that he started 45 games at Notre Dame. I'm sick of trying to win the war in the trenches with projects (Alex Gibbs could do this, and Alex Gibbs is gone)--I want a freaking stud down there to knock Jared Allen into the Gatorade cooler.

Editor's Note: I am contractually obligated to mention that the Denver Bronco O-Line is comprised of cheaters who endanger the careers of defensive players. We're all sure that Ryan Harris is locked in a room somewhere reviewing film of how to break ankles and blow out knees from the side. We're also sure that any myopic Chiefs fan who's still hung up on this outdated notion is fond of sheep.

The downsides to Harris are there, but I choose to ignore them. He did attend Notre Dame, which in this draft was somewhat of a hindrance. We all know about Brady Quinn's first-round freefall, and how Darius Walker went undrafted. Many felt that Notre Dame's success over the last couple seasons were due to Charlie Weiss' magic and a soft schedule that feasted on the likes of Stanford, Michigan State and the military academies. Harris is undersized, and his measurables weren't particularly mind-blowing. He's a bit of an extrovert, and he talks about a career in politics after football. Around here we want our big uglies to be seen and not heard.

Finally, there is the issue that Harris is a Muslim. I have no beef with any religion, but we went through this with Ephraim Salaam, specifically the fast at Ramadan. I hate having a tackle who struggles to keep weight on forced to fast for a month in the middle of football season. I guarantee that Jared Allen isn't fasting, and that he doesn't believe in any God at all. All Jared Allen cares about is drinking, fucking and killing Jay Cutler. We need someone who can counteract this dedication.

Read more

Behind Enemy Lines

So the HoG is actually uniting this weekend, for the first time in the illustrious history of the blog. The occasion? The nuptuals of The Blizzard, who's enjoying his last hours as a free man. Cecil and I, who tied the knot years ago (but not to each other, that's gross dude) are in KC for the festivities and to spread the Gospel of Shanahan.

Over the years I've made many jokes about the Kansas City demographic, in terms of education, weight, number of teef and other unsavory qualities. I do have to say that in the dozen or so hours I've been on the ground I've only seen eleven morbidly obese women and a few that I would actually consider mildly attractive. I've been drinking the entire time, but still.

Does this mean I declare a truce with Chef Nation? Not hardly. More dispatches from the Hell that is Missouri to come...

Read more

Tradition Tuesday: Slackin'

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

Seven years ago we started The Tradition, in which the Broncos fans traveled out to the Truman Sports Complex with their team, and the Chef-lovers returned to the Rocky Mountains with theirs. We tailgate, we talk massive amounts of shit, our wives occasionally get 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 alive all year long with Tradition Tuesday--a weekly state-of-the-rivalry address.

I am, at heart, a tremendous slacker. I work as little as I can get away with, at everything. My career is solid enough, if only because I’ve kept the expectations artificially low. My marriage gets by, mostly due to my incredible prowess between the sheets. I’m a little fat, a little out of shape, and not really good at anything except kicking ass and chewing gum. And I’m just about out of gum.

For most of my life, though, I’ve been a really awesome sports fan. I’ve tackled this hobby with single-minded determination and focus. I’ve memorized stats and crafted compelling arguments with which I can shoot down shitty arguments. That talent and drive is part of why this very blog exists, and why you my fan love me more than almost anything in the world.

But there is a disturbance in the force. This business that I’ve started, the business that allowed me to take my slack-ass tendencies to new and previously unseen heights, has improbably become very successful. That’s ostensibly great, because someday I might pull some cash out of it, cash I can spend on a variety of wasteful leisure activities. This is why one works, so as to eventually not work.

But in the meantime, the increased volume of my day job has become a tremendous pain in my fucking butt. It’s cut seriously into my baseball-watching time, and my hours of daily fantasy team management and blog-reading. No longer are afternoons spent on the golf course, or in the hash den, or banging your mom. I’m working, and it truly sucks.

The biggest losers, of course, are you my readers. I’ve deprived you of the wave of greatness you’ve come to expect/demand. For instance, the New York Yankees are in last place and I’ve yet to address it. Noted drunk driver Tony LaRussa has been running teams full of pot-smokers, needle-punchers and winos for years, and one just endangered the lives of many before eating it. That needs to be addressed. And the upcoming NFL season is replete with potential Bloach-On-Bloach crime, a subject ignored by all of the medias and mediums.

But I’ve got no time, and the children suffer. Think of the fucking children.

Anyway, today is Tradition Tuesday, not Oprah’s Bitch Club. I’d really like to carve the living hell out of the rosters of the AFC West. I could dry-hump (cyber-speaking, of course) the Raiders and their mangling of the No. 1 pick, and why they’ll lick balls for years. I could break down the entire miserable offseason of the San Diego Stupor Chargers, detailing their inevitable collapse at the hand of Norv. And I could go through the winter makeovers of our beloved Broncos and despised Chiefs, roster spot by roster spot, and see how the draft and free agency have treated the teams of The Tradition. But that would take actual research and preparation, and I don’t have time.

What I can do is transmit my lazy self from the rest of my life to my position as Slacker Emeritus here at the HoG. That’s right, kids, I’m officially mailing one in. Hell, I’ve already written nine-tenths of this bitch and I haven’t said a damn thing.

Last week in this space we had a logical juxtaposition of the two SEC-reared QBs who may someday steer the ships of KC and Denver. One tiny problem I have with that reasoning is that KC’s representation in said twosome is Brody Croyle, and Brody Croyle is not an NFL quarterback. He’s a backup, and an untested one at that. He’s less accomplished in the National Football League than Drew Henson or Ryan Leaf or Babe Laufenburg.

But to the Chiefs he’s a savior. That’s because they’ve completely mucked up the most important position on the field. Apparently the starter will be career backup Damon Huard. Longtime No. 1 Trent Green has been run out of town, only the Chefs have not even consummated a trade. Now that the draft is over, they’ll end up cutting Green and getting nothing. And finally there was a brief period of time when KC flirted with the idea of drafting Mr. Metrosexual, who was dropping down the first round like a stone.

My point is this: These are not the actions of a franchise that is confident in the quarterback position. You can win with a mediocre QB, so long as the other elements of your game are solid. But KC is going to war with a defense that is not dominant and a line that no longer scares anyone. At least they have some kickers.

Fear not, fans of the Tribe of Lamar…Old Number Seven has a solution. There exists out there a veteran QB who has won in the playoffs. He’s been to the Pro Bowl. He wouldn’t cost much, and he’s eminently available. He wears No. 16, but I’m sure no one would mind if Len Dawson gave it up—this dude is ten times better. Kansas City, here is your new QB:

Read more

Look down, young man (or woman!)

Thanks to the incredible smartness of computers and such, the blog I just blogged about the Denver Broncos' schedule (aka "March to Victory '07") is a few blogs down. So blog your little blogginess downstairs a tad, and stay tuned, because we're only halfway through... Read more

Say It Ain't So, Drew

Since the Open Letter has become the style of the times, I'd like to post one to Drew Bledsoe, who announced his retirement. There is clamoring from Lone Reader for an NHL playoff preview, which we will not provide. Dude, you live in fucking Canada. Doesn't someone up there do that shit? The playoffs already started, anyway--that ship has sailed.

I kid, I kid. We love our Reader(s). I'm sure Bankmeister is busily flunking out of school in order to deliver his predictions for this riveting spectacle. Don't forget his previous ruminations on this topic (what, like anything has changed?). And rest assured that I, your favorite HoG Farmer, will publish my own indepth analysis of why the Colorado Avalanche will capture their third Stanley Cup (what? you can't be serious! that's never happened!). It will be very positive, because I love the ice hockey and America Junior.

But back to Drew, who probably loved those last few paragraphs because he often lives near Canada himself. Dude, what are you doing? Retirement? How can you hang it up? Just because kids keep taking your gig? Trust me, Bledsoe, you've still got it. No one can freeze a rope like you, sir. Well, almost no one, but he's a superhuman sex machine. Your class and composure in the face of adversity is a beacon to all of those up-and-coming players who view you as a role model.

By the way, is it "role model" or "roll model?" I've seen it both ways, but that’s probably because I read a lot of sportswriting and people that write about sports are fucking retarded.

So please, Drew, reconsider. There are many, many, many teams that could use the services of a mistake-proof, level-headed leader such as yourself. Don’t worry about some other punk stealing your job—none of those moves have worked out. You're a smart guy, Drew--for the love of Mike, you matriculated at Washington State--and you're the prototype 21st-century QB. You're mobile, elusive, and in possession of a thick skin. It ain't time for golf just yet.

Read more

Suddenly, I Love ESPN (Update: No, I Don't)

Just as I was doing "research" on my post skewering ESPN for fucking up summer, they run a huge item on their web site reminding me of a great awesome event that will happen in half an hour.

Seriously, who else makes such a big deal about an event like this? It was not in my morning newspaper, and none of the retards I saw at the coffee shop told me. The release of the schedule alway just sort of happens, and it's the only momentous sports item that flies beneath the radar.

It means the world to fans like me. I live a day's drive away from the nearest NFL stadium, so when and where certain teams are going to play dictates my entire fall itinerary. It's huge, and I appreciate that the four-letter beast reminded me of it.

Of course, the NFL Draft was also once a little underappreciated event for hardcore geeks that ESPN totally overhyped and ruined. So enjoy it for now.

(Update: ESPN fucking lied, as usual. The NFL Schedule is the exclusive property of the NFL Network for the next hour, as they're broadcasting a show about it. Think CBS, and their NCAA bracket show. So please wait for sixty minutes with your dicks in your hands, courtesy of ESPN. God I fucking hate those guys right now.)

(Second update: NFL.com claims to have a link to the show, but it doesn't work. Fuck them too. Figure skating doesn't treat its fans like this.)

(Third update: ESPN announced its MNF schedule, and some douche is chatting about it. All the questions are about the full schedule--because who the fuck cares about MNF anymore?--and Douche is prattling on about the Bills or something.)

(Fourth update: NFL.com has the schedule up, finally, fifteen minutes after promised. That's a quarter of an hour I'll never get back. Broncos schedule here.)

(Fifth update: I have no idea why it's jamming these paragraphs together like this. Blame this guy. I'm honestly hitting Return twice.)

Read more