Tradition Tuesday: Brodie Bangs, Jay Jams

The rough focus of this blog sometimes appears to be a Litmus of the best ways in which to ridicule the once-glorious Chiefs of Kansas City, and examine whether or not the Broncos of Denverville can once again achieve the latitude tagged within the walls of this here House as "sustained excellence." We're well aware that the Chargers of Whale's Vagina and the Raiders of Oaktown exist in the AFC West as well, but we really only care about those teams when ours beats them, Hochuli-style or not. We've never taken Tradition chapters to California on a consistent basis; I know that Seven and I have attended at least one contest a piece at the Comms of Qual, wherein we verified that no Chargers fans actually exist, but that's another post for another day.

What is post-worthy for today centers on the contests these two clubs face this coming weekend. Well, by "weekend," I mean that KC will, as usual, play on Sunday like the rest of the league, while the Broncos will play one of their seven primetime games...wait, what? What's this? Denver has a road game? How could this be? The schedule in front of me says that Pat Bowlen's club, with the help of his good pal Roger Goodell, are guaranteed a minimum of 10 home games a year. They've already traveled to Oakland and Kansas City, and it's only mid-October. Seems foolish for the NFL's most favoritest club to be blowing their road load so soon. And they've still yet to play in San Diego! Unposterous!

Nevertheless, with nearly half of their games on primetime television (Editor's Note: As usual.), the other half slated for "flex"ibility, and a mere fourth and inches of them being played away from InVesCo, it's no wonder that these Broncos are in first place in the West. The cake scheduling, the suspect officiating are both trends of consistency, as are the recent abilities to lose at home to Jacksonville, while beating New England in Foxboro. I don't get it, but I'm sure Jaynificent the First will see to it that his club demonstrates: a) minimal defensive capabilities, b) zero running game, and c) his personal no-fools mode of only looking at "Diez y Cinco" every time he steps back to pass. Naturally, the end result will be a victory for the team not just sodomized by Norv Turner on national television.



(image courtesy of Kissing Suzy Kolber)

The end result of course, is that Denver is 5-2, and then faces -- oh, hey, look! -- a home game against the Miami Dolphins (Note: The Broncos may or may not travel to Cleveland the following week; Rog' and Patsy still have to meet for tea and crumpets to decide whether or not they'll make Fatass Crennell and his now-scary-looking Browns board a plane.)

Meanwhile, in the heartland, the ever-intelligent Kansas City Chiefs have announced that there will be a pre-game celebration for certain past-and-present players this Sunday at Arrowhead. While I'm sure the other players that will be recognized in this ceremony are equally important, the one worth mentioning is of course Tony Gonzalez. The greatest tight end of all time wound up three yards shy of a certain record in the victory against Denver, and was less than pleased that certain doofi didn't call one more risk-free pass play so that Gonzalez could set the record at home. Instead, he set it the following week in the worst professional football game ever played, so he had that going for him, which totally blew. Add to that, that in mere moments, the NFL trade deadline expires, and Gonzalez could be a member of another team, which would mean, um, HE WON'T FUCKING BE THERE. Good job, Herm. 'Preciate it, bro.

Once the game commences, however, it will likely be the beginning of the final stages of the Brodie Croyle Experiment. Now, there's no telling how long said stages could last. Many experts are predicting he won't make it through the game unscathed, which would mean that Edwards and Co. would again have to call on Santa Claus just a tad early, hopeful that he has some gifts ready.



Regardless of who's tickling the center's bottom, Larry Johnson will need to gain more than two yards, his net total against Carolina, and only one yard less than the total number of assault charges levied against him since he signed with Kansas City. The game, however, will be interesting in a number of ways. In between stints with the Chiefs as head coach, and his current gig as defensive coordinator (again), Gunther Cunningam was a linebackers coach (or something of that sort) for Head Coach Jeff Fisher and his Titans. It should be noted that Jeff Fisher is pretty rad. His club is now the only undefeated squad around, and he's been putting together some pretty tight teams since the Oilers left for Nashville. The Titan ownership has shown faith in him during the tougher times, and obviously for good reason.

The other interesting aspect of this game is that Kerry fucking Collins is quarterbacking this team. I mean, they drafted this head case



but he's proven to be little more than a Michael Vick or a Reggie Bush -- guys that can't really play the position they're supposed to, but they can run, baby. They can run. I suppose the jury on Vince Young is still sequestered somewhere in Graceland, but if Jeff Fisher says that Kerry Collins is a better answer for your football club than you are, then you's in trubs, boss.

Anyway, I'm not real sure why Old No. 7 elected to give Mr. Croyle the nickname of "Brodie Bangs." I mean, logic would tell me it's either a)



because of the locks covering his forehead, b)



what he actually bangs, or c)



the fact that defensive units bangs him around quite a bit. Don't get me wrong; I'm down with it.



Just as long as Jay can jam.



And something tells me...



...the boy can jam.
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Monday Mourning: If He Goes...

The way we're wired, being sports fans defines us. We love baseball because it's in our blood, our childhoods, our memory banks. Debates regarding the game today is a many-headed beast, arguments that will never see a winner or loser. Some of us bleed a passion for soccer, while even fewer remain dedicated to hockey. Our common thread, however, will always be American football. We want competition, we want toughness, we want our clubs to be positively represented, and most of all, we want championships. With tomorrow's NFL trade deadline looming, a certainty swells in my brain telling me that as of Wednesday morning, October 15, Tony Gonzalez will no longer be a Kansas City Chief.

When I sat down to write this morning, it felt impossible to grasp the right angle of this piece. I wrestled with many urges to compile the most compelling list of personal and professional statistics to paint the ultimate picture of #88. I decided against it, mostly because this visceral knot has very little to do with the record books. Any fan of football knows that records are made to be broken, and the fact that Tony Gonzalez currently holds the NFL records for yards, catches, and touchdowns by a tight end is just that -- current. Maybe in five years Antonio Gates will close in on, if not eclipse one or more of those marks. Maybe some other guy will come along in 10 years or so, and shatter them all. And maybe they'll be Gonzalez's records for eternity. The more pressing point of this sentiment, though, is that Tony Gonzalez embodies the model of what I want my teams' rosters to be full of, both in personal and professional regards.

In the spring of 1997, when the Chiefs selected Gonzalez with the 13th overall pick of the NFL draft, I was clueless to it. It's possible that I didn't even know the draft happened in April back then, and I certainly was not aware of Gonzalez until the season was underway. The world of sports -- hell, the world in general -- was a lot different 11 years ago. Gore's InterWebs were like a Model-T; I was barely able to wrap my head around the concept of e-mail; and I was inching my way through my junior year at THE Fort Lewis College, which was a great experience, albeit a little too deep in BroncoCountry for my taste, but whatever.

This era, of course was the beginning of the aftermath of the ultimate Carl Peterson debacle, known (sort of) as Gannon-GrbacGate. With Rich Gannon being relegated to the bench in favor of Grbac, the Chiefs' chances at getting a then-rookie Gonzalez a taste of playoff victory looked good. That was about as good as they'd ever look. Gonzalez caught a touchdown pass in that game, and had an earlier end-zone catch ruled out of bounds. He would spend the next couple of seasons being Grbac's favorite (and perhaps only other than Derrick Alexander) target, before Trent Green took over as signal caller. It would be six long years before the Chiefs had another shot.

On January 11, 2004, the Chiefs were eliminated from post-season contention by Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts, a contest marking the second of three consecutive Chief playoff losses to Indy. In this game, Gonzalez had another touchdown catch negated by officiating. Three years later, in the third game of those defeats to the Colts, Gonzalez found the end zone on consecutive plays, a third-quarter touchdown catch, followed by a reception for the two-point conversion, Kansas City's only points in the contest. Many argued, and have since continued, that the best option for that day would've been the then-hot Damon Huard as the starting quarterback, but KC went with the recently-recovered Green, who led a lifeless offense to defeat.

Since then the Chiefs have gone 5-16 with combinations of Huard, Brodie Croyle and Tyler Thigpen throwing to Gonzalez, and things have never looked bleaker in 88's storied career. The troops have been rallied, the wagons have circled, and all suggestions lean toward trading Gonzalez as the right thing to do. Reporters have claimed that Peterson and Gonzalez are very close, that the Chiefs' General Manager worked hard to get Green landed with another club, that perhaps he'll work harder to do the same for Gonzalez. With the Green trade, sides in the tiers of fandom were at odds. Some thought it to be a mistake to let Green go with only the aged Huard and the unproven youth in Croyle as the only signal-calling options.

Now, with Gonzalez, it would appear that unanimity abides; place the man in a situation he deserves, with a team that has a chance to compete. My House of Georges colleagues and I have oft-argued many a Gonzalez-related topic: How can you call him the best when he's never won a playoff game, let alone a Super Bowl? When Arrowhead Addict ran its famous COAT (greatest Chief Of All Time) series, I steadfastly supported Gonzalez, and stand by that claim today.

Gonzalez has almost never missed a game. He has for more than 10 years been a dedicated off-season trainer, and been ultra-competitive in every game in which he's played. He's made a tremendous impact with the United Way, the Boys and Girls Club, and with Shadow Buddies, The Tony Gonzalez Foundation. He's never been in the presses for domestic abuse, he's never been nabbed for driving while under the influence, and he's always had some sense of tact with reporters in regard to expressing his post-loss frustrations (Editor's Note: And obviously, there have been many.). And frankly, a fan can't ask for more in his/her professional athlete.

Therefore, when it comes down to the nits and grits of this inevitable transaction, yes -- I want the most the Chiefs can get for Tony Gonzalez. But no -- I do not think the trigger should remain unpulled if Peterson's desires are not sated in compensatory terms. My colleagues would likely say that no man "deserves" a championship, and I would suspect that they would agree with me that, from time to time, a player comes along that does in fact deserve a shot at competing for one. Tony Gonzalez is that player, bar none. So it is with sadness, shame and acceptance that I, as a member of ChiefsNation face this trade deadline. I'm sad to see Tony go; he is in fact my favorite player to ever don the red and gold. I'm ashamed that Peterson's efforts and attempts to bring this club a championship have failed, and in that shame, the majority of it goes hand-in-hand with Gonzalez's career, the smaller end being my personal fandom, as Kansas City will continue trying to earn that trophy after Tony's time in the league has lapsed.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly is the final ingredient of acceptance. I know that Gonzalez must go. I've accepted the fact that the game will have passed him before the Chiefs will even sniff legitimate contention again. And it will be with truth and conviction that I root for whatever team that signs him, as I look forward to the days in which Gonzalez earns a ring, (hopefully) retires as a Chief, and sees his name etched onto the walls of Arrowhead Stadium.

For 11 incredible seasons, for forever existing as the lone glimmer of hope (even when it was false), and for being one of so very few positive role models both within and outside of the hash marks, I thank you, Tony Gonzalez, for being the best -- and here I quote Old No. 7 -- "September-to-December, non-championship-winning, tight end to ever play the game of football."



Since 1997, and for many years to come, remember that I told y'all: the tight end's the sleeper.

(Note: Those interested in Tony Gonzalez stats can find many lines of eye-torturing letters and numbers here, here, and yes -- even here.)
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Speechless in KC

I hadn't even heard the rumors yet, but two sources just confirmed via the Bottom Line on the KU game, that Tony Gonzalez has been traded to the New York Giants. I'm happy for him. The defending Super Bowl champions just made their chances to win another one a lot better, and the best tight end to ever play the game of football deserves a ring. At the same time, a part of me has died. More later...

(Update: Bad source on this gig; nothing confirmed yet.)
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Friday Fiction Fix: "Horseman"

Two things: 1) This is currently my new favorite, soon-to-be-forgotten House of Georges feature, and 2) I don't always have Fridays free to run husbandly errands, but when I do, I'll be sure to share them with you. Like today, for example, we had an appointment with the vet to get the cat and the dog vaccinated. Just so happens that our dog will be 14 on Sunday, and that in dog years tallies up to real freakin' old. There's been this homeless cat cruising around our property. He might keep coming around because the wife keeps feeding him, but who knows. Then, at the vet office today, there's your token picture of a puppy that was found on the streets, has had one round of shots, and yes, needs a home. So I got to thinkin'...

The wife has been pushing the keep-the-cat envelope, and there's no way to sign said free-agent puppy without the cat getting worked into the negotiations. But ultimately, it made me think about the kind of folk that abandon animals, and that made me think of a story called "Horseman" by Oakley Hall. It comes from the novel The Coming of the Kid, and was first published in 1985 by Harper & Row. "Horseman," like much of Hall's work focuses on the American West. He was somewhat of a mentor to Richard Ford (Editor's Note: Guess who we'll feature next week.), a marine in World War II, and a one-time finalist for a Pulitzer. He died in May.

The story is about, for lack of a better word, a cowboy, who gets himself into frequent trouble with booze and women (or lack thereof), and that doesn't sound like any dude I've ever met. It opens with the line, "In my life I have been a fool with liquor and a wise man with horses," which pretty much fucking rules as a story kickoff. Makes me think of someone in particular, though.



J.D., the narrator, tells the tale of a kidnapping, in which he must be the hero.

"I was riding with a bunch of turned-bad hands then, no better than the fellows next to me."







(Note: It just dawned on me that Mo'Clo' and T-Hen wore the same jersey number. Shouldn't we be hanging that one from the rafters? Ya' betta ax somebodaayyy!)

Later in the story, J.D. recollects about a hasty getaway he once made from some potential enemies:

"Flora asked who they were, and I replied that they were from Putaw Crossing, which was on the other side of Helix Hill from the Castle, and was a place I hoped she would never see, for it was a filthy place.



"Are those bad people, J.D.?" she asked me.



"Yes. Bad."
"How can you tell?"
"For one, they have got different ways of looking at you,









kind of sideways instead of straight on."



"But could you tell that from here?"



"So could you, which is why you asked about them."

Later, in enemy territory, J.D. is cautious.

"I was nervy as a spooked horse as I made my way through bunches of men who paid me no attention, and whores with their bogus smiles and winks..."



"They were a hard-eyed, sharp-jawed bunch, dirty-faced like they hadn't washed this month.



They were quick to nudge one another and have the laugh on someone else."



Hall's story is full of anxiety and dark emotion, blanketed with an omni-present goodness. It reads swift and doesn't disappoint, the good guys coming out on top, though dog-eared with an important lesson learned.



Kind of.

The Coming of the Kid can be purchased here.
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Bye-Week Boredom

I hate bye week. I recognize the immense need for it, but boy does it suck. Speaking of suck, the Kansas City Chiefs have a bye this week, and while one could argue that they need it to heal and to work out a little something called "how to play American football," I'd almost rather see them take the field and get some more of that good old learning curve out of the way.

Over on KCChiefs.com, Bob Gretz has written a small number about what getting Brodie Croyle means for this team. Click here if you have a spare six seconds to read it, or just know that the headline "It's Brodie Now, or Start Over" and this line:

It all leads back to that saying of Marty Schottenheimer’s: a player’s greatest ability is his availability.

say it all.

Thank you, Bob Gretz, for your infinite spells of genius.

You know what I think about bye week? I think a team should have to earn it. That's right. These fucks get truckloads of money in salary and incentive, and they only work for four months out of the year. Sure, training camp, OTAs, meetings, whatever. You play for Jeff Fisher? You're 5-0? Take the day off. You lost 13 of your last 15 games? Bitch better be on time tomorrow, 'cause you ain't gettin' shit.

I'm sure Roger Goodell and his cronies could figure out a way to "flex" the schedules and make teams play when they thought they'd be off. Make it happen, dude. Make it happen.
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We Are Hot Chicks Wednesday: Screwed, Blued and, uh...

Here's your weekly dose of feminine glory topped with a snapshot of Gary Coleman. You might notice something of a theme here--I certainly hope you do, anyway, because if you don't you're flipping hopeless.



The Administrator always tries to write something in between these photos. But you don't care, do you?



Honestly, I'm not even going to pretend.



OK, I will. If only to break up the monotony, such as it isn't. Below is Pixie, formerly of L.A. Ink, which is a pretty entertaining television program.




But this girl is just, uh, some lass whose photo I thieved from the bowels of the inter-etc. Anonymous chick, if you by some chance come across this and contemplate legal action, I beg your forgiveness. Please don't make me go back stealing copper wire from power stations.




Nice guns. (Oh, come on. Like you wouldn't have said it.)




Maybe I should just drop in quotations from famous persons?




Also from L.A. Ink, the one and only Kat Von D.




Look, a pirate theme! Everyone loves a pirate theme. Especially Pirates. Willie Stargell, for one, would have approved. (Za-zing! Never know when it's comin'!)




Sharp take on the classic pinup pose. But featuring a gal who isn't currently in her 80s.




More class. Don't worry, it won't last.



"Thus God alone is the primary Unity, or original simple substance, from which all monads, created and derived, are produced." (Leibniz)



Told you I was gonna do that. Now kickin' it old school. Still fairly classy...




Aaand enough of that.



"He who has a true idea, knows at that same time that he has a true idea, nor can he doubt concerning the truth of the thing." (Spinoza)



Couldn't have said it better myself, Spinoza--actually, maybe I could have, you incomprehensible and dead Spaniard. (What would he have thought of the Suicide Girls?)





There's just something about this photo that feels like...home.




Nice composition.



Is this NSFW? It's just a touch of buttcheek, right?



Maybe a harder time defending this one on the same grounds...




Nice work on this young lady.

And finally, a message to live by. Toodles, kids.





Images of these lovely gals courtesy of Suicide Girls, Fantasticus, Alt-Babe.net, Devilmanonline, Pinuppost, Retroporn, Altporn, Inkygirls, Runryder and your grandma.
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