It’s no man crush. And I don’t get a snicker out of seeing a guy with the nickname “Jaws” having the cheeks of a chipmunk. I think Ron Jaworski might be a prophet. You see, about two-thirds of the way into the 2007 NFL season, all the NFL talking heads were bouncing only one question between them: Who could beat the New England Patriots?
Ron Jaworski had one answer: The Green Bay Packers.
His reasoning is a little hazy now, but it had something to do Favre’s ability to dink and dunk, his bursting stable of wide receiver talent and New England’s inability to adequately defend the short pass game. If memory serves, the Giants and Jaguars both had recent success with this kind of offense against the Patriots, and both don’t have nearly the wideout talent nor the quarterback that Green Bay has. And something about Randy Moss not liking getting chucked at the line of scrimmage and that being how Charles Woodson and Al Harris make their living, sitting you down 1.7 yards into your route.
At the time I was thinking “That’s nice. If the Patriots and Packers meet in the Superbowl, the Packers have the best chance at beating this unbelievable team. And, if I’m ever faced with the prospect of a menage a trois (the good kind), scoring some Viagra just before could make it a night for the record books.”
I was pretty sure both of those pieces of information were worthless.
You know Tiki Barber is telling everyone who’ll listen that he was right; the Giants are one of the top 2 teams in the NFC.
You knowhow Ifeel aboutTiki. I did notice that this recent success has come without the help of one big-butted, chrome-domed sissifuss.
Anyway, congrats, Tiki. The team you no longer play for is in position to compete for the NFC Championship. And they’re coached by a guy who’s got a track record of not getting past this game. And you’ve got Eli Manning, with his permagoof facial expression, wondering himself if he’s ready to play in the really big games.
I don’t know if Toomer or Burress like getting chucked hard at the line of scrimmage, or if they like getting the side of their chest walls caved in after a catch, but three hours of that is coming. Atari Bigby thinks damaging your bodies is like fishing. The way he describes it, it sounds more like when you were 9 and caught a rock bass, then when trying to de-hook it you squeezed so hard poop shot out of it.
Usually I like my game birds served with gravy over mashed potatoes. The tricky part is removing all the bird shot before you cook ‘em or your teeth will get an unwelcome surprise at mealtime.
For the tasty meal served up on Saturday evening, I have to thank Brett Favre, because I’m pretty sure he was using nothing but slugs and firing head shots all night.
My quick hitters for the game:
1. Remember when I talked about watching Red Wing games? And how you could tell, without knowing the score, who was going to win? The Packers got pimp-slapped with two quick scores after Ryan Grant fumbled twice. Their emotional response was not “Aw, shit. We’re screwed.” It was more like “Oh no you di’int. It’s ON.” It’s a lot of fun watching a team like that.
2. And then, like Clubber Lang was the good guy, we kept telling Seattle “I got a lotta mo for you! Whole lotta mo!“
3. And nobody played more like Clubber Lang (in the first fight) than Ryan Grant. After dribbling two on the ground he ran for over 200 yards.
4. Is it just me, or does Brandon Jackson stuff his pants with nitrous oxide? You know, the stuff in a tank that’s usually found in a trunk, like The Fast and The Furious? Push a button and Zooom? I saw it in the Oakland game and again this weekend - that guy gets to the corner before you and it doesn’t matter how close you are. He’s gonna to blow by you.
5. John Kuhn is a kung fu fire plug. He blocked guys from either side at the Seahawk goal line to give Grant an opening wide enough to squeak through to score.
6. Watch this video, and pretend all the scarers are people yelling the name “Atari Bigby,” and all the scarees are Seahawk wideouts.
7. The Packers are in full stride, and now fate has laid the NFC Championship in the lap of Lambeau. Tiki? We’re coming for your boys.
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