Tradition-al Side Effects: The Split Household III

Apparently this has become a regular addendum sort of feature to "Tradition Tuesday" here on the House of Georges. As mentioned here and here, we've come across members of the ill-thought-of split household in the parking lots of InvesCo Field at Mile High, and Arrowhead Stadiums. What that means is that a Chiefs fan has married into a Broncos family, or vice versa, and done the despicable to make their home livable. More on this bad idea after the jump.

Now, if two people want to spend the rest of their lives trudging through some semblance of happiness mixed with an ever-looming sense of enemy territory, so be it. While we don't approve, we certainly won't try to stop them. We will, however, offer the occasional suggestion of things the split household inhabitants should never attempt. Want to rip two jerseys in half and sew the pieces back together? Fine. Just think the thing through, first.

For example, Tim Grunhard logged 11 years as a center with the Chiefs. He played college ball at Notre Dame, was elected to one Pro Bowl, and scooped up eight miffed pigskins in his career. Frank Jackunas was apparently selected by the Buffalo Bills in the 1961 AFL draft, but this Web site suggests that he once, if briefly, donned a Denver uni. We beg of you, oh married hybrid babymakers, never to merge the jerseys of these two former athletes,



lest your cursed offspring inherit a fashion faux pas so catastrophic, that years of therapy might never aid them in recovery. Carry on with your barbecued wheat grass, and your mountain bike trips to the three a.m. bars. Just think before you stitch. That is all.
Read more

Tradition-al Side Effects: The Split Household II

As we have made it painfully obvious, the rough focus of this blog is the rivalry between the Denver Broncos and the Kansas City Chiefs. Seven and Cec' lead the pack of orange and blue, while I roll solo, cheerin' on them Chiefs. Each Tuesday, we bring you a state-of-the-rivalry address known as "Tradition Tuesday." The nature of the weekly update stems from what we call The Tradition. Ultimately, it involves two glorious weekends a year; the first is Broncos weekend at Arrowhead, the second is Chiefs week at InVesCo, not necessarily in that order. Both contests, and the surrounding weekends are brimmed with inebriation, hoarseness, and good times all around. In the lots of our stadiums, however, we occasionally stumble (in every sense of the word) across some oddities. Jump aboard for an example of what I mean.

As I mentioned here, we've come across parking-lot scenarios wherein we meet Broncos fans who have married into a Chiefs family, and vice versa. I think I saw a recipe for that dish once. It looked a little something like this:

-2 cups fresh vomit
-1 1/2 cups stale urine
-one quart next-day Old Style beer shits
-1/4 # wormy dirt
-2 tablespoons mold
-3 teaspoons sewage runoff

-- Mix all ingredients in food processor or blender. Transfer to 4-quart sauce pot. Slowly bring to a boil. Allow to cool. Chug while slightly scalding tongue. Repeat every day for the rest of your life.

Dee-lish.

But, hey -- there're kids out there just crazy enough to do it. It likely involves Sunday game-time sharing when broadcasts coincide, lots of razzing from in-laws and friends, and a touch of domestic violence, especially if your teams are rivals and/or in the same division. A few of the folks we've seen have tried to play off this nightmare as cute by doing things like physically cutting two jerseys in half, then sewing one half of each together, forming a piece of football regalia with which I am not in agreeance. We've seen it, though, and are prepared to again. What follows is an example of what we pray and hope, we will never, ever see.

John Tait was a first-round draft choice by the Kansas City Chiefs in 1999. He had matriculated at the BYUs, and logged six seasons with the Chiefs before opting to play with the likes of Cedric Benson and Rex Grossman. Good times. In his career with the Chiefs, he recovered one fumble, and had one uber-smooth 28-yard scramble with the pigskin to set up the 2002 season-opening win in Cleveland, courtesy of Dwayne "Mistake-by-the-Lake" Rudd. He has yet to earn a Pro Bowl berth.

In 1961, the Denver Broncos chose defensive back Phil Nugent out of Tulane. They took him in the ninth round with the 65th overall pick, which is a bit mysterious, since allegedly, the Green Bay Packers drafted him 40th overall in the third round of that same draft. Those Broncos were crafty even then, I guess. The "Nug,'" though, only lasted one season, but managed seven interceptions, one for a 30-yard return. Seven picks in '61, is pretty darn good, I imagine. Thus, he should not be confused with this guy, or this guy, or the guy who contributes words here and here.

And any of them split-household spouses out there, take caution never to mix the jerseys of these two football players, lest a travesty occur:



(Editor's Note: I know, I know. The "I" is in the wrong spot. Good stitcher this broad was, I guess.)
Read more

Tradition-al Side Effects: The Split Household

As we have made it painfully obvious, the rough focus of this blog is the rivalry between the Denver Broncos and the Kansas City Chiefs. Seven and Cec' lead the pack of orange and blue, while I roll solo, cheerin' on them Chiefs. Each Tuesday, we bring you a state-of-the-rivalry address known as "Tradition Tuesday." This week, Seven had the honors, and he discussed the departure of former Bronco running back Travis Henry here. It's a feature that's great fun for us, and we hope our readers enjoy it, too. The nature of the weekly update stems from what we call The Tradition. Ultimately, it involves two glorious weekends a year; the first is Broncos weekend at Arrowhead, the second is Chiefs week at InVesCo, not necessarily in that order. Both contests, and the surrounding weekends are brimmed with inebriation, hoarseness, and good times all around. In the lots of our stadiums, however, we occasionally stumble (in every sense of the word) across some oddities. Jump aboard for an example of what I mean.

Decked in your club's gear at a visiting stadium always generates an underwritten sense of tension and animosity. For the most part, though, things are pretty chill amongst rival fans. Sometimes the overserved get out of line. From time to time a genuinely angry person will attempt to take his life failures out on you (or your wife). And every once in a while, there's the threat of the overserved angry guy that might trudge through your tailgate camp. Mostly though, folks are out for a good time, hopeful that their team wins, and enjoying a glorious day. Unless it's nighttime in Denver, and for Chiefs fans, those games are far from any sense of majesty.

For eight years now, we've chatted up friends and strangers of all varieties at these events, and we've come across some interesting scenarios. Perhaps the most intriguing of which, is the split household. In case it's not obvious, this would be where a Chiefs fan man marries a Broncos fan woman, or vice versa (Editor's Note: Same-sex marriages are strictly prohibited in the Choncosphere.). Now perhaps this works for some. Not I. I'd go so far as to speak for Cecil and Seven on this one, too. I mean, don't get me wrong: Our wives are hot. As we summed it last year at Arrowhead, we all overachieved. But my wife would have to be like this hot, or this hot. And work full time while I stayed home. And cook for me. And let me go out -- no questions asked -- with cash while she never left the house without me, plus clean, pay the bills, walk the dogs, and service the vehicles, before I married into a Bronco family. And even then, I'd only be in the "considering" stage.

It's inconceivable. Really. Sundays at the in-laws would be as forbidden -- and written into my prenup -- as infidelity or domestic abuse. I just don't think I could hang.

But we've seen it. We've heard stories of it, and even seen -- I speak truth here -- two half jerseys sewn together to represent the cute and amicable household that "supports" a Choncos-in-My-Briefs matrimony. Two weeks ago, at the Lone Reader's wedding, he and his lovely bride (a Browns fan) actually wrote into their vows "to have, to hold, to cherish, and to always root for the Chiefs except when they play the Browns" (and vice versa). It was cute and chuckleworthy.

I guess more power goes out to those that can put true love before football. I myself, can not. Given that that oddity is out there, we're over the shock of it, and prepared to one day see it again. What follows is an example of what we pray and hope, we will never, ever see.

Frank Quayle was a running back for the Denver Broncos. He was a fifth-round selection out of Virginia in the 1969 draft, and he carried the ball 57 times for 183 yards, and for reasons unbeknownst to me, that was his lone season in Denver, and in the league. He wore number 26.

Former NFL offensive lineman Willie Roaf joined the New Orleans Saints as a first-rounder in 1993, hailing from Louisiana Tech. He wouls sign with the Chiefs as a free agent in 2002, log four solid seasons, and add to his career total of 11 Pro Bowls in each of those years before hanging up the spikes. He sported the double sevens.

Both guys, in their own respects are owed honor by their respective clubs. Neither, however, should have their names (or their jerseys) tarnished by being subjected to the knittings of a split household.



It would be nothing shy of an atrocity.
Read more