Saturday, November 20, 2010

A Confused UpHere Gets All Anglo In Search of Answers


Firing coach Yarno would please us


This may be a bit early in our relationship, but I have a confession to make. Some times, I read books by British dudes. I know, I know. Risky behavior. We're talking about a nation built on bad dentistry, a rampant buggery problem and a river that makes Lake Erie seem like a pristine mountain stream. Importantly, though, they've spent big chunks of time killing the French and they've been around long enough to go through a lot of shit. Government in debt to the point of bankruptcy? Check - they've done that about 10 times. At one point, when people carried gold coins around, they forced everyone to hand the coins in, melted them down along with stray animals and hay, made shittier money out of it and told everyone it was worth the same when they sent it back out. Its true. They even put Ike Newton in charge of the mint to make it look legit. The history of those idiots is full of crazy shit like that. They've burned witches in the plaza downtown, knifed each other indiscriminately, worn bizarre hats, sat through plagues that killed half the populace, all while dodging rivers of raw sewage in the middle of every street. I mean, Neil could have written half the history of the UK in one manic, caffeine-fueled orgy of Willy Young diversions and we wouldn't notice the difference.

Now, as tempting as it would be to suggest melting down most of the Lions roster and selling the results Sweeney Todd style, that's not where I'm going here. My actual point, to the extent there is one, is that in response to the nuttiness of their history the Brits eventually got tired of it and adopted this unemotional, seen-it-all-before attitude. Many of them have screaming matches just by blinking. As Lions fans we're kind of in the same boat, hopefully minus the sodomy. We rode the roller coaster high into the world of sunshine and blow jobs ahead of the Jets game and immediately down in to a Sylvia Plath-like, let’s-do-a-few-shots-of-Prestone depression a week later. I have no idea where that leaves us, beyond stunned and praying for the sweet release of death. At this point, if the Lions were our kids we'd be wondering if we're dealing with moody prodigies or hockey-helmet-at-recess retards. All of this, however, might be a good thing. We might finally be able to ditch the delusional optimism and the fetal position pessimism and take a cold, dispassionate look at where we’re at.

Following our theme, and because its more fun to be the king, we’ll be the king. Turkey leg in hand, covered in small pox scars and various puss-leaking carbuncles that send wafts of fetid stench from under our bearskin cape every time we shift positions on the throne, with our dicks rotting off from syphilis that’s also making us half insane by now, we are tasked with sorting out why we’ve had our asses handed to us in the last two major battles. In short, we are William Clay Ford. Since kings and Fords don’t condescend to speak with torch bearing peasants, particularly the rotting mouth Anonymouses calling for our heads outside the walls - DEATH TO THE KING! JUST THROW THE BALL UP TO CALVIN! - we’ll have to do this through the generals.

Army discipline sucks. The defense seems ok about avoiding stupid penalties, but we are sorely tempted to have Master Peterman boiled in oil or his thumbs screwed. The holding and procedure penalties are killing us and this is on the coaches. Its a fixable problem. In Buffalo, the O- line meetings between series were 20 feet away from my seats, and they were horrifying. Yarno yelled, the players did everything but toss paper airplanes they were so disinterested. These were not proud moments. Can you fire an O-line coach mid-season? Would it help? It would certainly make our royal person feel better.

The ground attack. The thing is, for all of the bleating and venting we do on the Interwebs, none of us is qualified to criticize Xs and Os except maybe Ty. Matt Millen played the sport for 150 years and a gorilla throwing feces would have done better on draft day and with general team strategy, just an example of how terrible any of us would be designing an offense. I have to believe Linehan knows what the issue is with the running game - dude watches enough film and, even if he’s not going to tell us, he knows whether Javid Best’s injury is the root of the problem - he just can’t fix it. Nonetheless, its perfectly clear that no matter what Lord Schwartz would like, we can't run, we're not going to be able to run. Running the ball, except as a sneak attack, is no longer an option.

The other, more terrifying thing we're going to have to deal with is that the vaunted D-line is getting blocked. Early in the year, if Suh got double- teamed Corey Williams was destroying people and then Suh would dance on the graves of Quarterbacks when Williams got two guys. Now, except for one sack by Luscious Jackson, the line has not only been invisible but the worst team in the league ran for bunch of yards. By royal decree, Lord Cunningham is charged with fixing this problem or he will be publicly flogged and/or killed.

Ok, ok this has gone on long enough and I won’t try your patience with a metaphor extended beyond any sane level of decorum. In the end, Neil’s right - anyone who tells you they can predict what will happen in tomorrow’s game is a bald-face, sociopathic liar even if they turn out to be correct. We don’t know what we have with this Lions team. They can scare the crap out of the Jets and shit their pants against the worst team in the league. They can terrorize the NFL’s best offenses and they can lay down on their stomachs like a 120 lb dude in a maximum security prison in the middle of a game. I don’t think we can figure it out before the players do themselves.


2 comments:

Neil said...

Can we BOTH boil Master Peterman in oil AND have his thumbs screwed? I think it's only right.

Anyway, well done, and this has made me realize that I need to do Willie Young in Medieval England, which will likely be some sort of fucked up hybrid of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, Army of Darkness and The Tudors.

UpHere said...

It'll probably have more football content than this one. Once sewage and pus comes up, its easy to get carried away.

Peterman's maddening. He plays well for stretches, but saves his stupidest behavior for when we need him most.