Thursday, January 6, 2011

State Of The Blog

I got this, motherfuckers

I originally planned to stick to the normal schedule for this week before throttling things down here, but when I sat down to write my breakdown of my predictions for the Vikings game, I just couldn’t do it. The season is over and that fucking thing has turned into an eleven billion word monster every week and, well . . . I am burned right the fuck out. So, sorry for the lack of posts so far this week. Hopefully, you understand. If not, well, goddamn, I don’t know what to tell you. I figure I’ve written, like, two or three novels worth of gibberish this season. I’m not even exaggerating. It’s been insane. I could be putting that time towards a different purpose, like writing an actual novel, or breeding genetically engineered mutant super goats for a goat fighting ring or fighting my demons with flamethrowers and fire water or engineering mutant super goats to fight my demons for me. Preferably with flame throwers. Anyway, it’s not like I’m finished or anything. I just need some time to get, uh, un-fried. Un-fried? Jesus. You see how fried I am? Un-fried. Good Lord.

So here’s how things are going to look. I’m going to finish writing this post, which is sort of a half assed random thoughts deal, and then I’m going to say fuck it and avoid writing anything about the Lions for a week. And then when I return, I’ll do something once or twice a week. There is a lot of Season in Review sort of shit for me to do and that will be schizophrenic as all hell, so, uh . . . yeah, look for that. It should be fun. Like I said, I originally wanted to do a prediction breakdown post, but that just isn’t going to happen. The season is over and by the time I got to it, it would be irrelevant and stupid and would make me hate everything and then I would throw a giant hissy fit – not unlike this post – and then you’d turn on the TV and see something about me jogging through the streets, pantsless, screaming gibberish at old people and small dogs, crying and bellowing the name Willie Young until some dudes with butterfly nets and giant batons showed up to beat me senseless and drag me away to the nut house or hell or Narnia or who the fuck knows where and you don’t want that, do you? No, and so fuck that post. I also planned on doing an uber-melodramatic post tying the whole season together, sort of an epic version of my post-game posts, but I kinda feel like I just spent the last month doing just that, you know? The story is over and it would just be a pointless exercise in piledriving a dead horse to continue gibbering on about it, you know? That’s not to say I won’t talk about this past season at all. Like I said, there is a lot of Season in Review sort of shit to do and in the end, all that should end up comprehensively covering the whole damn thing. I’m not exactly sure what I’m going to do but, well . . . yeah. As you can see, I am having trouble even finishing sentences. I feel listless and completely uncreative and when creativity and energy are what I kinda build this whole thing around, uh, that’s a problem, you know?

This is a vomitous post, completely self-indulgent and whiney, but fuck it, that’s what blogs were created for, right? Then again, you don’t care about any of this shit and so I apologize and I’ll just move on in a minute. But first, a bit more on what to expect: Like I said, I plan on not doing anything Lions related for a week, and then when I come back, hopefully I’ll be recharged and then I can knock out the Season in Review stuff in a way that isn’t rushed and awful and lazy as hell. After that, well, there is always something happening and whenever the spirit moves me, I’ll write something so check back here at least a couple of times every week throughout the off-season. Things will ramp-up around late-March/early-April when everyone starts gibbering about the Draft and, well, that always leads to a lot of fresh posting. It’s an oasis in the desert of the offseason and every year, even those who were burnt to a crisp by the previous season seem to get their energy back for a month or two. It’s always a good time, full of a twitchy, junky like energy and filled with fresh Hope, and then when that all slows to a crawl, I will breakdown all the draft picks – remember, this is where the birth of The Great Willie Young thing happened last year, so you never know what in the fuck I am going to come with – and then when that’s all over, summer should be upon us and free agents and camp and holdouts – oh Jesus, let’s not forget me diving headfirst into the Ndamukong Suh riots last summer – and then the season will be here and, well, fuck, there we’ll be.

So . . . yeah. There will be some good and worthwhile stuff to read from me throughout the offseason. It just won’t come every day. Of course, the other glorious dudes who write for Armchair Linebacker will likely have stuff of their own up from time to time and if you haven’t been reading their shit, you should be because it is awesome. It was a fun season here. A lot of you reading this found the site this season and, hey, thanks for sticking with it. I loved that the comments section sprang to life and that we developed our own little community of doomed souls here and I hope that it will be even better next year. For the small handful of you that have been here from the beginning, well . . . goddamn, this shit’s been crazy, hasn’t it? I can’t even fathom the amount of shit, whether it’s been weird or dumb or sublime, that I’ve written about the Lions over the last few years. It’s both stupid and ridiculous and proves that if nothing else, I am a damn fool and that there is something seriously wrong with me. But I also like to think that from time to time, I manage to write something that no one else can write or make you laugh really hard or, hell, on rare occasions even make you think, and when I do, it feels like I imagine it feels for a musician to hit a perfect note. It’s a jolt of energy, a genuine rush and it makes me want to keep on doing this. That is a ridiculous thing to say about a football blog, but fuck it, I don’t care. Anyway, you are all my dudes and lady dudes and we will inherit the earth before it is all over – or at least what’s left of it anyway.

Jesus. This post has been incredibly self-indulgent and I apologize. I didn’t really mean for this to get so far out of hand. I really didn’t. I just wanted to write a quick little State of the Blog preamble before talking about a few random stories from the world of the Detroit Lions, but shit, I should know better than that by now, shouldn’t I? Then again, so should you. We both know that when I get moving in a particular direction it is hard for me to slam on the brakes. I am a runaway train from hell, painted with all the colors of the rainbow, on fire and playing heavy metal at a billion decibels as I race through the countryside, scaring farm animals, small children and the elderly. It’s highly likely that I will just go off the rails and run straight through a barn at some point or crash into the sea, but goddamn, behind me I will leave a trail of dazed shell-shocked destruction, with trees burning and people gaping wide eyed on their knees, bleeding from their ears and their brains.

Right. Fuck all that weird noise. Anyway, like Gen. MacArthur or Gov. Terminator or Jesus, I will be back. Keep checking the blog for updates because I promise you that I will have some good shit up. Just give me a week to get recharged and then we can all adjust to the new pace together and we’ll have a shitload of fun and maybe we can even trick . . . er, I mean convince, more brave souls to join us on our crazy train. Deal? Alright. I’ll see you in a week. (Well, a week and a half . . . and, you know what? Let’s say closer to two weeks. Okay, and I’m out.)


UpHere said...

I think I can speak for everyone in suggesting that your 2010 season will be remembered with Gehrig's in 1930 and Yaz's triple crown year. I feel privileged to have played a supporting role.

You ever consider how mch money you would have made by spending all that time doing something productive? What you spent it on would have killed you of course, but it must be fun to think about.

Neil said...

Gracias, mi amigo.

And I try not to, or else it is possible - hell, likely even - that I will break down in bitter tears. I probably could have won a Nobel prize or been knighted or at the very least discovered and then brutally killed Bigfoot. After all, I understand there is a price on his degenerate head.

Then again, that would have just led to me arriving home drunk one late night, stumbling into my dark home only to be met by one of Bigfoot's children, sitting in my living room chair, a lit cigarette in his mouth providing the only light,a gun in his hand, and I would have been forced to fight a Bigfoot cub for my life and nobody wants that.