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Stuff written about: “Training Camp”

Hey Baby. Wanna Try 59?

29
   August

You be the nine. You know, curl up like you’re in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, in fear of the idea of having to get with me again.

That’s gotta be how the Colts felt after the Packers shoved their fat, uh, football right up the backside of the Colts defense.

That Ted Thompson. What a moron. I swear if that stupid shit worked for the 49ers, he’d have replaced Joe Montana with Steve Young.

And we all know what a loser Steve Young turned out to be.

Being totally cereal, it drives me batshit insane when the Packers don’t address obvious needs like special teams (no offense Will Blackmon, but your bones must be made of rock candy), but you know? 59 is 59. It’s a lot. In the way Gilbert Brown’s Burger King tab is a lot. Or the number of men needed to carry Brett Favre’s ego.

Philadelphia? I’ve got the feeling Eagle tastes a lot like chicken. See you in week 1.

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Brett Favre: On Second Thought, My Ankle’s Pretty Bad

28
   August

As Brett Favre sees Viking rising star after rising star get snuffed and plummet to the earth, maybe that ankle doesn’t feel so good after all. Maybe hangin’ in some Wranglers and ridin’ that Simplicity lawn tractor doesn’t sound so bad about now.

As I was rolling to a local cigar shop I listened with the giddiness of Ralphie opening up that Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle on Christmas morning.

Favre took a hard hit? He was spun around like a drunk chick at a wedding and then thrown to the ground (like a drunk chick at a Mississippi wedding)?

Tee. Hee.

I need to say for the record, though it any of you are keeping track of what I say on the record, you really need a more worthy hobby, like collecting fingernail clippings or tracking the size of your morning wood (c’mon, four inches!): I don’t like seeing Percy Harvin or Simeon Rice go down to injuries or headaches or whatever. They’re both very talented, and while I don’t like that the Packers have to play against them, watching talented players is always a joy, no matter who they play for.

I don’t wish those two guys or any other players on the Vikings’ squad harm. Except where that harm hurts Favre’s ability to win games. Then I’m totally ok with it.

You still got the arm to put receivers in the hall of fame, Celine? I see you’ve got Packers and Raiders castoff Javon Walker to throw the ball to now, so you should be totally fine. So long as you don’t need a guy that’s smart enough to not fall for your “pull my finger” trick.

The word on the street is that you’re freelancing in the huddle, you have a leaky line in front of you, a running back that’s been following Moises Alou’s advice on skin moisturizing too much and likes to put the ball on the ground, and your receiving targets, well, they’re dropping like deuces at a laxative party.

Can you still carry a team?

As my young daughter says when I tell her she can’t have a pony:

We’ll see about that.

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Holy Shit, Y’all! Football!

17
   August

Fuck, it feels like I’ve been asleep forever.

Let’s see, when last I was awake, there was a young guy who did this weird thing where he cut his hair like characters in old movies, taking over for a legend at quarterback.  A legend who left Titletown in an effort to come back and stick it to his former boss.

But he was retiring.  Or maybe not. And Brad Childress, coach for the Vikings, was trying to coax the old bird out of retirement for one more run at Lombardi.

But he had some surgery issue.

Nah, he wasn’t gonna play.

Or maybe he was.

And the fans in Minnesota waited with bait breath while he toyed with them, skipping practices, training camp, hoping to get his ego stroked like the pigskin of a lottery winner in the VIP room of a strip club.

So it looks like I haven’t missed any of the 2009 season, then. Great!

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