Wednesday, December 3, 2008

All Aboard

Just in time for Tradition Week, Greg Robinson got fired as the head coach of the Syracuse Orangemen. As one of few men to ever coach both the Denver Broncos and Kansas City Chiefs, Greg holds a special place in Tradition lore.

He was the Broncos' defensive coordinator during both Super Bowl championships, and if I saw him in Denver this weekend I'd buy him a drink just for that. He followed that gig with a stint as Dick Vermeil's DC, and for some reason Kansas City folks don't like him very much.

Anyway, here's his sendoff to Syracuse. Enjoy:

Excerpt From Coach Greg Robinson's Last News Conference










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Tradition-al Side Effects: The Top Ten Worst Things About Games at InVesCo

The work just keeps crankin' itself out here in Tradition Week, and I've compiled a list of loathsome things I subject myself -- and on occasion my wife -- to at least once a year, and they are all tied very tightly to attending football contests at InVesCo Field at Mile High Stadium. It's quite possible that I've, at one time or another in the past, listed each of these things in one post or another. It's also quite possible that I don't care; I'm sayin' 'em again. Don't get me wrong, here. I love these games, and I would one day like for my team to win one of them, because that would be awesome, the largest, most grandeur of monkeys off of my pasty, hairy, non-physiqued back. Therefore, without any further ado, I bring you "The Top Ten Worst Things About Games at InVesCo." But, you'll have to click your mouse to read them.

Number Ten: The Digs


I once had the pleasure of attending a Chiefs game at the Old Mile High. That was an awesome stadium. InVesCo is but a poorly engineered pile of plastic heap in comparison, one that reeks of corporate newness and outright lameness.



The Broncos won a ton of playoff games there. The place was raucous and downright frightening. InVesCo, with its cheap, hollowish-plastic floors that facilitate the supreme gayness of Rocky Mountain Thunder, totally, completely blows.

Number Nine: The Lot

Now, InVesCo, like Mile High sits in the heart of downtown Denver, so the possibility of having sprawling acres of parking like we do at Arrowhead seems, well, un-possible. I can't imagine, however, a design more poorer than the one in place.



There are roughly 179 "lots" to park in at the new Mile High, and each costs the equivalent of a season ticket per game to stow your vehicle and belongings in. I'm not going to sit here and wax tailgating, because any smart fan in any city can tailgate well, and my Mile-High companions do just that. There's just little convenience attached to the process.

Number Eight: Getting Tickets

One great thing about tickets to Chiefs games is that our crew seldom has to worry about not sitting together. Now, it's possible that there's a direct correlation to the winning and non-winning of the franchises here, but I'm not trying to be logical. No, stubborn and grudge-holding is more my forte. But don't sell me obstructed-view seats. And please, every once in a while, throw a guy a bone.



I'm already at a higher elevation in the parking lot. When I finally get to my nosebleed seats, I don't want to be reminded that I'm a fat, out-of-shape, chain-smoking midwesterner (who still has time and occasion to marry each of his sisters). How about a gondola, or a dumb waiter? At the very least, some oxygen coming out of my cupholder would be awesome if you're not going to make lower-level seats available.

Number Seven: Number Seven

Broncos Fans -- John Elway hasn't taken a snap in over ten years. If you wish to jerk off to the Horse-Faced Colts Draft for the remainder of your existence on this planet, please do so in the confines of your own home.



He was a great quarterback. He didn't win any Pulitzers, and he, last time I checked, didn't cure any major diseases. Get. Over. Him.

Number Six: The Jerseys

An insider tip tells me that both Webster's and Random House will be removing "1) having or showing a lively mood; merry. 2) bright or showy: gay colors. 3) homosexual. 4) a homosexual person, esp. a male" as their definition for "gay" and replacing it with "the collection of hometown fans' jerseys on any given Sunday at InVesCo" in their 2009 edition. For real.



Still sportin' a Romanowski? You're gay. Like how you look in that oversized Mecklenberg throwback? You. Are. Ghey. Let me guess: You pick special Sundays to bust out that Bailey road replica. What? I'm right? Santa's sled rings geigh bells when he prepares to land on your roof. And, please, if you are the proud owner of a Shannon Sharpe jersey, then you, your father, his father, and your son...gay in the mouth. The aforementioned of course excludes any of the following: a) my friends, b) their friends, c) anyone I've ever met, and d) anyone capable of kicking my ass. We're all cool.

Number Five: The Pisser

Hey, remember when you thought it would be a good idea to have like six portable bathrooms within 10 square miles outside your stadium and more for women than men inside?



Good thinkin'. Fucktards.

Number Four: The Cheer

Look, call us Chiefs fans rednecks. Call us hillbillies, and ridicule us for goofing with the national anthem. At least we're original. I will never, in all my time on this planet, understand why BroncosCountry is so infatuated with the two words "Go" and "Broncos." It is with this three-syllabled phrase that every orange-and-blue-clad fan of the Denver club communicates whenever they're discussing football. It is the capital city of Lamesville, the president of Dullvania.



I don't care who you are. When you -- no matter the cadence or the pitch -- shout "Go Broncos," you sound as tough and admirable as pile of dead leaves. I'm begging you all for your own sakes: Coin something new.

Number Three: The Chant

This one's the greatest, and lobbied for a two spot, even. I love it when Broncos fans acknowledge how totally obnoxious, tired, and should've-been-buried-already the "In-Com-Plete!" chant is, and has been, since like two weeks after Steve Bono inspired your old PA dude to say it. Now it's transcended announcers, and the fans keep it up, and even, when the time is right, gather to holler it in opposing venues.



That chant bothered me for about one quarter of Chiefs-Broncos football many moons ago. Now, it only instills empathy from within my heart, for you sad, sad breed of people. But keep doing it. You know, for aesthetics.

Number Two: The Team

I can't say this in any other fashion that would more passionately and confusingly express my sentiments: I hate the Denver Broncos.



I would like more than anything to attend Chiefs-Broncos games, only without the Denver Broncos present.

Number One: The Truth

All name-calling and finger-pointing aside, the Broncos, in my lifetime, have abundantly had more on-the-field success than their 'cross-the-plains rivals, my Chiefs. I never got to fulfill my dreams of taking a knight stick to John Elway's knees in a quiet Englewood pub, and I never got to cram a glowing-red bag of hot, rusty nails down the non-enunciative mouth of Shannon Sharpe. Truth be told, I'm likely too chicken to do either, and certainly not crafty enough to pull those feats off without getting caught, maimed, and/or killed, so maybe it's for the better. The fact remains, though, that no Broncos fan can possibly hate the Chiefs with as much vigor as the reverse. The one exception would be anyone that jumped on the Bronco bandwagon since 1999, and we all know that there has never, in the annals of time, been a Denver fan like that.



Over the course of 30-ish years, Denver has molested the pigskin with better digit manipulation than Kansas City, often at the expense of the Chiefs, and that burns, burns, burns, like, you guessed it, a ring of fire.
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We Are Hot Chicks Wednesday: Pickin' Sides

It's Tradition Week II here at the House of Georges in good ol' 2008, and we're working overtime to bring you a week's worth of stellar Chiefs-Broncos material. It should be noted that we usually put in a solid two and-a-half hours of work a week, so "overtime" can't top the 10-hour mark, or our feet fall off. Nevertheless, I've got a hankerin' that this is the year the Chiefs get that first W at InVesCo (Editor's Note: I may or may not have had said hankerin' for each of the past seven seasons.). We're making lists, checkin' them twice, and trying to figure out just what the weekend will entail. One thing's for certain: Our fan bases represent well at each of these bi-annual contests, and this balmy-ish December the 7th will be no different. And just to show you we mean bid-ness, we're going to include some fine members of side good guy, and side bad guy, depending on what your favorite colors are, of course. Join us, if you will, after the jump.

Ashlynn Brooke



Ashlynn loves her Broncos.



She doesn't always have the truest of facts around her, but I ain't mad.

Aubrie Lemon



Miss Lemon is a fabulous girl.



Her bedroom is gorgeously decorated,



and so is she.

Andie Valentino



Andie Valentino takes pride in butchering her jewelry, the occasional bathing suit, the point of her favorite team's logo, and yes, even the national anthem.

Angela Sommers



Miss Sommers and I don't share the same taste in beer, but she more than makes up for it in selecting football teams and beachware.

Arianna Armani



Arianna has meticulously selected the titanium prize for her someday groom-to-be. I'd say "lucky guy," but then that poor sap has to lug that piece of blasphemous jewelry around for eternity.

Bailey Rose



Bailey likes her shirts striped, and her lagers steined. Can do, and can do.

Caprice Bourret



Most ladies like jewelry and gold. Caprice is no exception.

Cassie Lane



Even when she's on the beach, Cassie's thinking about decorating her Christmas tree with her favoritest of ornaments.

Heather Vandeven



Heather likes the mermaid look, and the look of her club's flag mounted outside her house.

Jaime Bergman



Jaime doesn't blow smoke up anyone's backside. She's been a Broncos fan since the days of the Orange Crush.

Jessica Jane Clement



So has Jessica, or J.J.C., as some call her. Her ride is old-school, but her favorite Bronco just might have initials similar to hers.

Jo Garcia



Jo knows men love a cigar on the beach. She also has some great taste in lighters.

Karlie Montana



When Miss Montana's not hangin' in a bikini, she prefers the comfort of her favorite ol' t-shirt.

Kitana Baker



Kitana prefers game-day eve with a long, hot shower, and a game of cricket.

Lexi Belle



Lexi's loyalty to Denver is tried and true, even when the team's back's against the wall.

Lindsay Lohan



Bet you didn't know ol' Lohan was a Chiefs fan. Neither did she.

Marketa Brymova



Marketa knows old style so well, she steps right into it with ease.

Sophie Howard



Sophie Howard knows it's long past time the Chiefs should've won at InVesCo.



Like the HoG crew, her ride's geared up; she's ready, anticipating a victory.

Sunny Leone



Sunny Leone keeps the antique light on, always hopeful for a Denver win.

Yamila Diaz



Yamila, however, is a bit conflicted.



She has, on occasion, pulled for the Broncos,



but typically finds herself engulfed by the awesomeness that is ChiefsNation.

Zoe Britton



Zoe's one of them pendant gals. Get her the right one, and she may even let a guy pin it on her.

That's it for today. We'll be the guys tailgating throughout the Daily Niner, occasionally donning a Gorilla Mask.
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Matriculating Toward Mile High

As you know, it's Tradition Week here at the HoG, and we're preparing for Sunday's Chiefs-Broncos showdown at Invesco. Cecil is furiously hiding the porn in his guest room, while Banky and I pack our toothbrushes and brass knuckles to travel to Denver this weekend.

In between loads of laundry, Bank and I launched a discussion on the state of the rivalry. This is said discussion:


Bankmeister: As much as I'd like to dive right in and discuss how gay your football club is while reminding you that mine is still awesome, we must first chat about this flippin' division. One of our recent guests said that it's simply the AFC West's turn to stink this year. I imagine he's right, but it irks me like bad drivers. If I had to tie a ribbon around a theme, it might read something like "winning games you're not supposed to, and losing contests you shouldn't." I think to a degree, this applies to all four West clubs, with Oakland being, as usual, the biggest exception.

Denver, for example, beats Tampa, New Orleans, and Atlanta, but drops games against Oakland and Kansas City. The Chiefs had a stretch of games from late October through mid-November where they, as underdogs, could've beaten all four opponents but didn't. And San Diego is darn near impossible to figure out. Tell us, if you would, your thoughts on the state of the division.

Is Denver simply trying to establish an identity? Will the re-building program in KC pan out? Does the mystery of the Chargers get hung solely on Norv Turner? What about Oakland? Can you see any chance that Tom Cable gets the interim tag removed?

Old No. 7: This division is truly awful, but I think it's just a victim of timing. Oakland and KC are in full lottery rebuild mode (actually, Oakland is in Waiting-For-Al-To-Die mode) and are hoping they can retool through the draft. Those efforts have yielded some sharp young players, but any real success is several seasons in the future, with new coaches. Cable is nothing more than a linebacker coach who's keeping the seat warm, but no real coach in their right mind would sign on for that gig. And while the Bill Cohwer Mirage is really played out, an actual NFL coach could turn your Chiefs into a contender pretty quickly.

Denver is, for the first time in Shanahan's tenure, actually rebuilding with youth, but a funny thing happened on the way to 6-10. Two funny things, to be exact. One, the gang of kids they brought in turned out to occasionally act like old hands--someone needs to carbon-date Eddie Royal's DNA and make sure he's not actually a genetically reengineered Keenan McCardell. And two, the window of opportunity slammed shut on San Diego, for reasons I'll get into in just a few short sentences. Do the Broncos still lose plenty of games they ought to win? Of course, they're young, inexperienced and prone to making dumb mistakes. But at the same time that inexperience means they can walk into the Meadowlands against a bunch of graybeards and kick their old asses soundly. They have no fear.

As for your would-be division standard-bearers out there in San Diego, a few nefarious trends are working against them. Norv is indeed spectacularly ill-equipped to run this or any other NFL franchise. His players don't respect him, which leads to a breakdown in discipline. But beyond that, the foundation is crumbling. Injuries have slowed onetime megastars like LT, Merriman and Gates. Many of the role players, the Michael Turners and Marlon McCrees, have moved on to get paid. And Phil Rivers is not the transcendent leader that, say, Eli Manning is. How's that for ironic? And beyond all that, the Chargers just don't do the little things an elite football team needs to do. They commit stupid penalties, they don't exploit matchups, and they give a lot of games away to team they should beat.

B: Fair enough. Let's stick with Denver for a second. After Installment One of this year's Tradition, we took our precious time vacating the lot, enjoyed some beverages, and listened to your thesis on how Jay Cutler needs to be excellent every Sunday in order for this team to win. You added, with admirable accuracy, that this team is a high-powered, finesse offense that has, to some degree, gone away from the smash-mouth, run-it-down-your-throat approach to football. Right now the numbers agree with you: The Broncos are third in the league in overall offensive yards, second in passing, and 19th in rushing. Some might argue, however, that this team needs to find more of a balance in order to have success beyond the crappiness of our division; be it this year or next, they've got to incorporate more yards on the ground. Obviously, it's been an awful year for your backfield injury-wise, but who's gonna be the man? Will it be Torain, or will Selvin Young eventually return to the stage of flashiness that he occasionally showed last year?

Also, how has the Denver defense progressed -- if at all -- since the season's beginning? Are they a smidge better? Worse? Stayed the same?

7: Right off the bat, allow me to submit a big fat mea culpa for being a giant moron. I completely whiffed on pretty much every aspect of this season, with the exception of Jay Cutler's indispensability. I thought the Broncos had a very average draft, when in actuality it may turn out to be the finest in franchise history (actually, don't click that link, I beg you--it's the most ignorant thing that's ever appeared in this space and that's saying a lot). I bought the conventional wisdom that Ryan Clady was a Wonderlic dummy, yet he looks like a perennial All-Pro. I was mortified by the idea of drafting Eddie Royal in the second round, and he's currently my favorite human being on the planet. Even bigger, I saw this team at the outset of the season as a complete bust that would finish well south of .500. I've been loudly and deservedly mocked for these pronouncements, which is the danger in posting my thoughts on such a prestigious and widely read publication as the House of Georges.

I'll say it loudly and proudly: I fucking LOVE the 2008 Denver Broncos. You call them gay, you heartless homophobe, but I'll admit in public that I am gay for this team in sick and twisted ways.... It may go down as one of my favorite Bronco clubs of all time, but not because they're excellent or anything. In the immortal words of Jim Mora, we might not win another game. Playoffs? You kiddin' me? No, I love these guys because they play with fire and they've so wildly exceeded my expectations.

As to your specific questions, there's no doubt this offense needs more balance. I'd like to think that the young Bronco O-line is currently more adept at pass protection than the ancient dark arts of zone blocking, and that by next season the old running attack will return. That may be myopic optimism on my part, though. It may be closer to the truth that we'll see a simple, straightforward drive-blocking offense that requires an actual stud tailback, not the dozens of retreads and castoffs that have platooned together gaudy rushing stats under Shanahan. From your standpoint, that would be a travesty, as it would disarm one of your trusty old chestnuts--that the Broncos only win because they are cheating cut blockers.

Regardless of the scheme, Ryan Torain clearly seems like the best candidate for success. He also seems to suffer gruesome injuries at the mere sight of a football field, unfortunately. I like Selvin, but I doubt he could carry the load on his own, which is by no means a criticism. Both the old-school football fan and the fantasy geek in me love the idea of a single dominant rusher, but I don't care how many RBs rotate--a yard is a yard.

I've quit trying to prognosticate what might remedy the Broncos' maddening defense. I really don't know if Bob Slowik is a genius for coping with myriad injuries and personnel changes or a dope who'll get canned like every other DC to pass through Dove Valley. I know that Champ Bailey and D.J. Williams are legitimate monsters who dominate when healthy, but the rest of these suckers baffle me. Is Elvis Dumervil a legitimate NFL defensive end or a circus freak? Beats me, he plays under a different system every season and faces a constant double team. He could be great, or he could be a bum, and neither would surprise me.

The one thing I'm sure of is that Denver needs someone to play safety with competence. They missed out on Gibril Wilson and Madieu Williams during the free agency period, but neither of those dudes is necessarily lighting it up. Draft the position early and often, preferably choosing gentlemen represented by neither Drew Rosenhaus nor the National Rifle Association.

Now let me ask you, sir: What's the scoop on Tyler Thigpen? Will he be your starter for the 2009 season opener?

B: As much as it saddens me to answer your questions -- I thusly miss out on opportunities to be called a white supremacist, a homophobe, a misogynist, and the like -- I will do it. I can see why you find yourself in the throes of a bro-mance with all 53+ Denver Broncos of the 2008 variety only because they are a new variety of Denver football, and indeed have exceeded your expectations. Mine, on the other hand, are still in tact, as I predicted these boys to go 10-6, San Diego winning the division notwithstanding.

Tyler Bobby-Yancy Thigpen, however, is a bird of a different feather. I can't really say that there's a scoop to be had on him. He looked miserly and mentally crippled when I watched him stumble around on your television, and he then saw his replacements who he replaced get mowed down in front of a firing squad, which handed him the job. He had that month of great football, and some of that credit goes to the Inverted Vagina Symbol for getting himself benched for said four weeks; it forced the Chiefs to move away from run-run-run-punt and see what this Coastal Carolina kid really had. The other goes to Chan Gailey for developing an offense for these Chiefs, one in which he knew Thigpen had experience. And I'll note that it is here that I totally whiffed in thinking that Gailey was yet another re-tread, another excuse for HermBall to continue to redefine terrible, and strengthen the stock of Chief Laughingness.

Now, he played relatively poorly against the Bills, but the team as a whole shit the bed with fire-hydrant pressure, and the experience of an army of nursing-home sphincters. Last week against the Raiders, he lofted a couple of oh-shit! balls into the air, and only one was picked, thanks to the massive ineptitude of everything that is Oakland football. What I like about him is that he's taken pretty darn good advantage of this opportunity, and wrapped a whopper of confidence around it. I didn't see that coming. At all.

What I really like is his ability to hit Dwayne Bowe, Mark Bradley, Jamaal Charles, the greatest tight end in NFL history, and on occasion, Devard Darling, with accuracy and minimal predictability. He has the same knack in doing so as pre-concussion Trent Green, plus he throws fewer picks, overthrows guys with less frequency, and, even if his legs were stumps like that dude on the Cleveland Brown sideline a couple of years ago, he's faster than Old No. 10.

In length, then, there is no way in the thick of all-night bars and greasy fat chicks that he is not the starter next year. Many think this upcoming draft to be thin at quarterback; those that may come out are young and allegedly non-faces of non-futures, so I think it's his job to lose, and I don't see any slingers coming in to really challenge him. I suppose there's always the occasional surprise; we've not yet seen the arm of Mike Cox under the scope, but that's an animal I doubt you want to wrestle right now.

7: Dude, that's really gross. Mike Cox is sensitive and needs a warm, moist place to hide once in a while. I'm glad you found a couple nice things to say about your ballclub, because you were starting to worry me for a while. This is football, not rocket surgery, and there are multiple ways to win games.

I'm with you with Thigpen--he's got a spark and plays hard. He could be a QB that helps lift you from the depths of Detroit Lions country, but I wouldn't get too complacent. If a quarterback is available you've got to take a shot, either drafting a college kid or nabbing a veteran like McNabb.

Before we get too deep into X's and O's, though, I have to ask: You didn't really want to win last week, right? I know you were dying for the 2-14 season that included a sweep of the Broncos. That would pretty much be the dream scenario for this blog in terms of comedic material. I love teams that suck with a little flair. Anyone can be horrible, but to be horrible AND funny is really difficult.

B: Look, dude: I want my team to win just as often as you like your pillow-biting Broncos to be on top -- all day, every day. Do I want to root for 3-13 as opposed to 2-14? No. Hell, no. But a win's a win's a win. Since prior to our first meeting in the C.U.B. at THE Fort Lewis College, I've always wanted two things, in order, out of a Chiefs campaign: 1) Win the Super Bowl, and if you can't manage that, then 2) Sweep Denver.... And by “Sweep Denver,” I have always included the secret caveat of “Please, I’m begging you to win more than two games.”

I'm literally sick, and exhaustedly tired of the never-dying talk of clubs "trying" to lose games for a better pick. It's never happened, and never will. Nobody wants to lose. Ever. If they do, then they're not right in the department of head. This, as you can at least pretend to imagine, has been the most painful, surreal experience of footballery I have ever known, ever imagined I would know. Yes, for the rough focus of this blog, that would be awesome and hilarious, and on a personal level, I would cherish it. When it comes to such a topic, however, there is the elephant in the room known as a smug, devoid-of-pride, degenerate schlep that only takes pride in, can only take pride in, the achievement of such a goal. I'm glad we beat the Raiders. That home-opening loss to them is still one of the worst games I've ever seen, and that made it consecutive years that they beat us at home. That also snapped quite a streak of victories at Arrowhead against the silver and black. So, for that, I thank thee, Herman Edwards, football genius.

On a seemingly incomparable level, how about being in a three-way tie for the worst first-place team in football? I imagine that on one level, you hate it because you want to be the best, but in the other half of the fridge, it irks you that you share common ground with the Vikings and the Cardinals. Yes? No?

7: Oh I know that, no matter how fucked the season is or how juicy the potential draft booty may be, you always play...to win...the game. I just also know that in the midst of a tough season I try to find some levity. Perhaps I come off as smug or spoiled when I say this, but I've never dealt with what you're going through. I've seen some historically bad seasons for the Nuggets and the CSU Rams, but I live and die with the Broncos. And during my cognizant football-watching life the Broncos have always been at least moderately competitive. So I feel for you, even as I hope you lose every single game.

I can't speak for Cards fans or Vikings fans, but I couldn't care less what record equals a three-game division lead with four to play. That's good math. Like I said before, I expected nothing from this season other than hard knocks, and I hoped for nothing other than progression and development. To be this far free of the AFC West field is mind-boggling.

When folks talk about potential Super Bowl teams and power rankings and all that nonsense, the phrase "Denver Broncos" doesn't really come up. Nor should it. We're not a premier team, and should we happen to stumble into the playoffs I don't suspect we'll stick around long... But there's no reason we can't piss in someone else's oatmeal and knock off Indy or Tennessee or those asshole child rapists out in Pittsburgh, just for kicks. There's something to be said for flying under the radar, a la Minnesota or Arizona, and once again exceeding expectations.

Talk to me about what you expect to see on Sunday. We know how the Broncos lose, and specifically how they lost at Arrowhead. They turn the ball over, particularly in the red zone, they kick like shit, and they allow big plays on third and fourth downs. Should Denver commit those same sins, I expect the Mighty Braves of the Missouri River Valley to capture that sweep. Get creative--what other forms could a Chief win take?

B: That, my friend, is a tough, tough assignment, but one I'm willing to handle.

Top of the list is the all-out, blowout. The kind for which you have professed your undying love. The Chiefs haven't manhandled anybody in some unGodly length of time. The 44-0 win over the 49ers and the eight-touchdown destruction of Ookie and the Falcons (both at Arrowhead) are the most recent to come to mind, but those are four and five years removed. Not only are the Chiefs long overdue for delivering some good old-fashioned sodomy, they haven't done it in Denver since prior to the Louisiana Purchase. Were that to happen, it would be some ritualistic, cosmic collision of mangasm for this leg of the Iron Triangle. My wife would probably enjoy it a tad, too. Our victory over Denver in September bordered on convincing, and by "bordered," I mean the likes of the Dakotas and the Carolinas as neighbors. That, in the form of a Jamaal Charles rushing score, two TD receptions for Thigpen, and, oh, say, 227 on the ground from Johnson for a 42-3 outcome.

Or they could have a defensive-minded shootout, a game where both sides play relatively error-free, but the offenses also manage to move the chains with consistency. I'd love to see 1250 yards through the air between the teams, and about 32 replays of mouthpieces flying around due to unruly unleashings of meast-on-meast collisions.

Another option would be for this Red-Cross unit of a defense to produce four turnover, and score on at least three of them. And I'd like only one to be a pick. The other three should be Cutlerfucker fumbles that result from pressure on the quarterback, something KC hasn't done since they played at Municipal Stadium. That's creative.

What about you? How does this contest unfold in your eyes?

7: Those are all pretty weak if you ask me. I was hoping you'd conjure something along the lines of:

Herm convinces lame duck President George Bush to pardon Ron Mexico, then drives to Leavenworth and signs him up. Burning the midnight oil in the basement of an old flour mill, he devises a secret offensive strategy based entirely on the hook-and-ladder. The morning of the game in Denver, he introduces Mex to the team, unveils the game plan and cuts Thigpen. Through sheer shock and quite a bit of the old razzle-dazzle, the shenanigans work, and Herm is carried off the field under a bright red sunset while orchestral music plays...

No?

I think it's gonna be close, low-scoring and a little chippy. Peyton Hillis won't do anything, but Matt Prater will suddenly be "on" again and nail a few long-distance bombs. Cutler squeezes in a TD to one of the recently unstoppable tight ends, Thigpen is uneven and flustered, and the Broncos keep your running game under just enough control to manage a score of, say, 20-13.


B: Yeah, well, what'd you expect when the creative guy asks the uncreative guy to "get creative?" I can barely color inside the lines, yo. There is, unfortunately, no "carried off," no "bright red sunset," and most certainly no "orchestral music" awarded to anyone -- not even the Helen Kellerest motherfucker of a coach out there -- that wins a mere two contests of American football in a season.

I do, however, think it will be a chippy affair, and I don't think it will be a contest in which Denver has success stopping the run. I just don't. But, a lot of that will hinge on Thigpen's ability to complete passes, which I don't imagine he'll be doing much of. But I can be hopeful, and that's just what I'll be. Good guys -- that's the visiting squad -- snap the seven-year stretch of glowing coals to the retina, and pull off the meaningfully meaningless win, 24-19.

7: Meaningless? But you just told me every game was, oh never mind. I'll black out by the first TV timeout anyway.
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Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Tradition Tuesday: Oh Yeah It's On

Let's talk a little football, shall we? Not the kind that normally appears in this space, the "Oh my God my team is so horrible and we'll never fire Herm" kind. I speak of real, red-blooded American football, the kind played on Sundays in open-air taxpayer-swindled coliseums. Cause it's Tradition Week, you hairy bitches.


First, the back story, for those who may be new to this particular unlicensed publication on the series of tubes. This is the House of Georges, and our rough focus is the rivalry between the Denver Broncos and the Kansas City Chiefs. There once was a time when those Chiefs had the upper hand, back in the old American Football League days. But then again, back then the football was round, the game was played twenty-five men to a side, there was a moat filled with alligators in front of the goal line (hence the term "red zone") and the whole world was broadcast in black and white.

Fast forward to modern times, and fate seems to have smiled upon the high-altitude franchise nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountain range. Two gleaming Vince Lombardi trophies rest in a glass case in Denver, while dust mites and cobwebs inhabit any display area reserved for recent Chief postseason glory. In Colorado, our per capita income and rates of college graduation are high, while obesity statistics show us as the fittest state in the land. Our women are lean and gorgeous while our saloons close at reasonable hours so we can obtain our beauty rest. Out in Kansas and Missourah, well, let's just say results are mixed.

So a few years back three friends conspired to hatch this web-log, or "eblo" in the parlance of the times. We named it the House of Georges, after some long-forgotten Canadian architect. We decided that we would, come hell or high water, always watch the Broncos play the Chiefs live and in person. In Kansas City. In Denver. In a parking lot of a Safeway in Constantinople. We'll be there. We'll be drunk. And we'll give you all of the boring details, along with a few cherry-picked statistics that occasionally back up our wild boasts of intolerance. You are now about to witness the strength of The Tradition.

KANSAS CITY @ DENVER, 2:15 SUNDAY DEC. 7

Quickly, to all you Kansas City residents whose blood may be boiling over my generalizations of your fair city, put down your pitchforks. I was simply making a little fun of you in the spirit of this game. We'll get all dressed up this weekend and yell at one another, then come Monday we'll go back to all the things we agree on. Like the fact that the Raiders are the worst. And that Nebraska is a God-awful place, even worse than where you live. And that puppies are just cute as all hell, and that the gays should never be allowed to marry. Agreed? Agreed.

Now let's talk about how much you suck.

You suck because the Hunt family is addicted to losing. Yeah I said it. Chiefs fans have way, way too much reverence for these bums. You erect statues to old Lamar and worship the ground he walked on, but where exactly are the fruits of his genius? You have an NFL team, whereas a lot of mid-sized American cities do not. End of tombstone.

Lamar Hunt and his inbred knucklehead of a kid wouldn't know a winning attitude if it bit them in the balls. All I hear from every single male (and most every female) I meet in Kansas City is how inept Carl Peterson and Herman Edwards are.

So fucking fire them already. It's easy. I'll do it for you. Hand me a phone and a number, and I'll do what your bitch owners have failed to do since I was born--set some standards for competence that lead to winning. In every other city in the league (even Detroit!), there are consequences to failure. Consequences like not getting a paycheck year after year after year.

Look, I don't know all the ins and outs about how Marty led to Dick led to Gunther led to Herm. I know that everyone worked together for the Eagles or UCLA or something, and that those teams never won shit either. Nepotism is great if you're John Quincy Adams and actually get elected, not so much if you're Frank Stallone.

I don't listen to your talk radio, Kansas City, or regularly read your columnists not named Joe Posnanski. I have no idea how much outrage exists out there, but I do know it's not getting you anywhere. How is it that you can not collectively get these clowns a ticket out of town? You can deface the national anthem without batting an eye, but you can't boo any louder? You can't fabricate a sex scandal implicating Herm, Carl and a Backstreet Boy? You can't quit going to these awful games, like lemmings headed toward a cliff, in order to show someone you're sick of the direction of your franchise? I'm almost embarrassed to be part of this "rivalry."

Better yet, why not fire the fucking owner? Is there not some blue-blood prick in the upper crust of KC society with enough juice to buy out the Hunts? We once had no hockey team and a shit-for-brains douchelicker who owned the Nuggets out here in Colorado. You know what we did? We found a random tool who married a billionaire's daughter, and that tool brought us the NHL, a watchable NBA team and a new arena we didn't even have to pay for. All of a sudden it's raining Stanley Cups around here, and we don't even know what a Stanley Cup is. And where did we find this Stan Kroenke, this mystical shaman who delivered us from evil and losing simply by spending money in a roughly intelligent fashion? Siberia? Uranus?

We fucking found him in Missouri. Right under your noses, while Clark Hunt was donating money to some hospital that immediately began killing its patients. Just go out in the Ozarks and find you some of that Wal-Mart money, I hear it's everywhere.

If you don't have the stones to recruit a new owner, perhaps the good people of Kansas City could buy the team themselves. Green Bay did it, and they're not nearly as grating to watch as the Chiefs. Or follow the example of the Montreal Expos, who allowed Major League Baseball to simply take the franchise over. Roger Goodell couldn't do any worse.
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So Long, Grangerfords and Shepherdsons; Welcome the Middlebrooks, Smiths



Regardless of the fact that the House of Georges newsroom teems with dozens of scoop-hungry reporters, we're not going to spend much time covering the still-unfolding details of the Plaxico Burress case. We do, however, want some reader input on one item in particular.

When Burress finally made it to a hospital, he gave the staff at New York-Cornell the fake name of "Harris Smith."

He certainly was not the first to attempt this gem of shenanigans.

This ancient piece of news shows one T.P. Harty claiming third place in the 1915 Pennant A.C. open novice road run. Turns out Harty entered the race as "M. Oelrichs", but was discovered by the shrewdness of George Mathews, chairman of the registration committee, and subsequently disqualified.

More recently, Tennessee State fired its track coach (Stanford Strong in 1999) for running two redshirt athletes under fake names.

Then there was everybody's favorite lil' "Spidey," Andre Rison, who, upon being arrested for participating in a Chiefs training camp bar fight in River Falls, Wisconsin, gave authorities the name Brock Middlebrook.

The most famous, perhaps, would be Mike Vick calling himself "Ron Mexico" when he sought treatment for herpes at a health clinic a few years back. This story has a few more fellas who've done something similar, like Evander Holyfield calling himself Evan Fields when he allegedly tried to buy testosterone and HGH from a Florida clinic.

And finally the Giants wide receiver opts for Harris Smith.

Do tell, then, readers. Using the handy poll on the right, let us know which fake name is your favorite.
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Monday, December 1, 2008