Scalping the Redskins: A Necessary Evil On The Road To Glory

Offensive? Sure, but these are strange and terrible times and our Manifest Destiny demands it.

It’s a strange feeling to have confidence as a fan of the Detroit Lions. It is even stranger to have that confidence when your team is 1-5. And yet, here we are, and here I am, confident and ready to watch my team win on Sunday. I’m not the only one who feels that way either, as the Lions are actually favored to win by those degenerates in Vegas. It probably helps that the Lions are actually 5-1 against the spread this season, which means that they have been better than anyone expected, even if they haven’t been quite good enough to win so far this season. It also probably helps that they actually did win one of those five games officially counted as a loss (The Martyrdom of St. Calvin NEVAR FORGET), and it helps that 4 of those 5 losses came on the road. It definitely helps that the Lions had a legitimate shot at winning 4 of those 5 games in the final minutes, and it helps that the Lions essentially hung with 4 teams who have winning records right now. In an alternate universe, the Lions are 5-1 after catching a few breaks and everyone is talking about them as the hot young team taking the NFL by storm and Matthew Stafford is healthy and smiling and taking cell phone pictures of his 14 inch dick in order to further shame Brett Favre and Jim Schwartz is having his brain implanted in a super computer by the government in order to ensure world peace and I’m the King of North America and me and my best friend, The Great Willie Young, fly up to Alaska every month to hunt polar bears and screw Eskimos or hunt Eskimos and screw polar bears or hell, all of the above.

But that is not the universe we live in, sadly. In the universe we live in, the Lions are a frustrating 1-5 and can’t quite seem to figure out how to actually win the damn games at the end. But all this has done has ramped up the ridiculous schizophrenia which has taken hold of the Lions fanbase and has driven us all to madness and confusion. I am ground zero for that kind of weird shit, and I feel like I am going mad. And it’s because I can’t quite make my optimism mesh with the fact that the Lions are indeed 1-5. How can a man feel good about his team when they are 1-5? How can he honestly stand in front of you and tell you that things are looking good? I don’t know and that’s the problem.

I suppose there are all the reasons I mentioned earlier – the daunting early schedule, the Lions competitiveness on the road, etc. – but a pessimistic man could also look at all of those things and say that the Lions still lost, and that while they were in a position to win all of those games, they weren’t in the lead in any of them during the second half. He could point out that the defense still isn’t very good and that the offense has struggled to run the ball. He could also point out that the team is still beset by awful penalties and retarded mistakes and hey, hey, hey, same ol’ Lions, amirite?

But fuck that guy. Seriously. I am feeling good and I don’t want to have to justify it. It’s like pornography. I know it when I see it. And what I see is a team that looks completely different than the one that went 2-14 last season, and it looks vastly different than whatever the hell it was that called itself a team that went 0-16 two years ago. This is a real, live football team, and hey look, that dude is fucking the shit out of that midget tranny. (Like I wasn’t going to go for the quick porn callback. Come on.)

I think something happened to this team in the game against the Packers. Up until then, it felt the same. It felt like the Lions were just going to roll over and die, just like they always do. Last year, they were in the same situation, heading into Green Bay with a backup quarterback, and they were shut out and in the aftermath I damned everyone to hell and suggested that Daunte Culpepper be drowned in Lake Michigan like a retarded puppy nobody wants. (I’m sorry, that’s a horrible thing to say. Puppies shouldn’t be compared to Daunte Culpepper. They don’t deserve that shit.) But this year, the Lions went out and they fought, and they died, but before they did, there was a moment when it felt like they might actually live, and it was a moment that I think changed everything.

In that moment, the Lions and their fans knew what it felt like to be alive, and it was the first time, I think, that we had really felt True Hope. Up until then, we had accepted our terrible fate, our inevitable death, because we didn’t know what it felt like to live. We told ourselves that we had hope. We said that we believed in it. But how could we? We didn’t even know what it was. But that moment was different. We saw that we could live, we saw that there was a different world out there for us, we felt all of it - the electric beauty of the moment, the powerful nourishment of Hope, all of it - and we finally – finally – truly believed.

I know that sounds like some Pollyannaish bullshit, but fuck it, I don’t care. We went out the next week and curb stomped those asshole Rams and then the next week we went into New York (well, New Jersey) and nearly beat the Giants with our third string quarterback. This is a team that won’t stop now. It’s a team of inevitability, a team who will just keep coming and keep coming and keep coming until they finally break through whatever invisible barrier is left and then they will win and they will keep winning and holy shit, this is how a real team is formed, dudes and lady dudes.

Of course, it’s entirely possible that I have been swept away in some sort of crazed dementia and am currently standing in the middle of a nut house, wearing a diaper and one of those newspaper hats, playing with little tiny army men and barking orders at them. Okay, Ndamukong, you hold the middle, Alphonso you take the left flank, Louis you guard the rear and oops, I just shit my pants.

I’m not discounting that as a real possibility, but fuck it, if it takes utter madness to achieve true joy and happiness then to hell with it, let’s get crazy up in this motherfucker.

This week, we get another chance to break through against the Redskins, and for the first time really, I feel like we’re there, like okay, now is the time to finally beat a team just because that’s what you do when you’re a real live NFL team. The freak show is over and now the fun begins. That’s what it feels like. This is going to make it hilarious when fate inevitably ethers me and then shits on my chest, but fuck it, I’m not afraid.

I am degenerating into wild ranting but I just can’t help myself. I am shouting non-sequiturs like some deranged bum, pantsless, standing on the street corner smelling of urine and failure, and I don’t blame you if you are frightened by such a scene. I am too. But this is what joy and hope does to a man who has been hardened and molded by the fires of hell. This is what True Belief does to a man who was educated in the ways of Fear and Anguish. All I can do is try to hold onto to some semblance of reality, to occasionally come up for air and look at the numbers and check to see if my genitals are still there (wait . . . what?) and make sure that I am at least tenuously still tethered to reality and not floating in some far off fantasy candy land filled with rainbows and blowjobs and angels playing harps and St. Peter laughing at me and telling me there’s no way I’m getting through those gates.

And I’m trying to do that. I really am. I’m trying to remain rational, but fandom by its nature is irrational and stupid and filled with ridiculous flights of fancy, and so I don’t want to turn into some jackoff Sunday school teacher either, wagging a stern finger at all the immature children and pissing all over the hopes and dreams of the young and the idealistic. And that’s where I find myself right now, trying to find that balance between Hope and Reality. The sad part is that I have no idea how to do this. This is all new to me and so I guess we’ll just have to try to get through it together. We’ll have some laughs, we’ll cry some tears, I’ll lose my pants and you’ll shake your head in shame and regret. Deal?

So just how does this Redskins game look through this new filter? Well, I think it looks pretty good. The Lions have played well enough to win so far this year . . . and shitty enough to lose. But the good stuff is becoming more and more evident and hey, isn’t that Matthew Stafford’s music? It is! The Lions almost pulled out that game against the Giants even though they were being led by nothing more than Grit and one of David Eckstein’s used jockstraps. So, yeah, it’s kind of an upgrade from that to the dude who was the number one overall pick in the draft last year. I am incredibly anxious to see just how well this Lions offense can run with Stafford at the controls.

The bad news is that the Redskins have been pretty good defensively. Carlos Rogers has played well at cornerback and DeAngelo Hall finally got his shit together last week and went crazy against the Bears. Meanwhile, Brian Orakpo is cold killing fools and Albert Haynesworth . . . well, Fat Albert finally accepted the fact that he is a sack of shit and has seemingly settled into a role of situational defensive tackle. Seriously, I read something this week where Albert basically said he was a piece of shit who had no idea how to play in the 3-4 and so it was good for him to only play in the nickel package. I mean, what the fuck?

Anyway, the longer he settles into his role, the better he’ll probably be, and if he’s finally got his footing under him, then that could suck for the Lions. The good news, however, is that Haynesworth is still a human turd mountain and isn’t anywhere near the 100 million dollar hate machine the Redskins thought they were getting. He’s just a fat guy who gets in the way every now and then. Meanwhile, I think that DeAngelo Hall’s crazy ass game against the Bears, in which he intercepted four passes, will actually help us this week. D-Hall’s the type of dude who only cares about making the big play. He doesn’t give a fuck if he gets burned. He just wants all of those delicious interceptions. This will likely lead to him gambling like a coked up Kenny Rogers out of his brain after 72 hours of straight blackjack, binging on peyote and Indian whores on a reservation casino. That motherfucker will slip up, and when he does, a gang of heavily muscled grim looking Indians will show up to strip his ass naked and throw him into the dumpster out back.

For our purposes, that translates into DeAngelo taking a wild run at the ball and then everyone laughing as he ends up laying on the ground while Nate Burleson does a twelve step dance routine into the end zone. Seriously, look at this quote from DeAngelo Hall:

"And (the defensive backs) had been harping on, 'Put us in some zones, man, so ... we can make some breaks and not have a whole lot of responsibility. We can just kind of freelance.”

Jesus. Now that is a dude who just doesn’t give a fuck, you know? We can exploit that. Heavily.

Of course, Brian Orakpo is still Brian Orakpo and Jeff Backus is still Jeff Backus, which . . . gulp. *nervously tugs at collar* And Laron Landry is a fucking psychopath (in all the best ways) who will attempt to maim and murder anyone wearing Honolulu Blue. That is not a good thing, especially since Stafford might be made of glass, crepe paper and the easily shattered dreams of a child. But I am sure that the Lions know this and I am going to assume that they are going to have some sort of Zulu Warrior stationed in the rafters with a blow dart in case Orakpo leaves Backus on his back like a retarded turtle and bears down on a helpless Stafford while we all scream NOOOOOOOOOOOOO and beat our couches or chests or wives or children or pets or whatever the fuck is closest in that terrible moment. It’s important to believe in Plan B’s and if our Plan B happens to be a Zulu Warrior with a blow dart then so be it.

Defensively, the Lions will frustrate us, just like they always do, but the good news is that so far this season - and especially since the Packers game – they have shown an ability to sprinkle in some good plays with the bad. And since Donovan McNabb is probably legitimately slow and a notorious fuckup, that bodes well for us. Like I said a couple of days ago, McNabb’s biggest crunch time moment saw him puke all over the field. The dude will make a terrible throw and I think our defense is capable of making him pay for it. He was terrible last week against the Bears and the only reason that isn’t a bigger story this week is because while McNabb was running around without his pants on, Jay Cutler was staggering down the field covered in shit and drool in front of a horrified audience, casually jacking off and screaming at the top of his lungs about how pod people controlled by President Obama and Oprah stole his life force and also his classic DT1 Yamaha Dirtbike.

I actually wish that Clinton Portis was playing but the Redskins finally took him out behind the barn and shot him and then sold his parts to that weird guy down the street who makes mystery meat stew which has allowed Ryan Torain to emerge as a legitimately good NFL running back. However, I believe that I will be rewarded by Karma since I traded Torain to Raven Mack in our fantasy league because I knew that was his boy. Surely, such a noble gesture will be looked kindly upon by whatever gods have spent the last half century skull fucking us, right? RIGHT???

In the end, I think that the Lions will be able to move the ball against the Redskins. I think there will be some inconsistency early, especially because Stafford is bound to be a bit rusty, but I think he’ll also be able to take advantage of DeAngelo Hall’s aggressiveness and the presence of Grit Merchant Drew Doughty at safety for some big plays in the passing game. I think the Lions can use the Redskins’ aggressiveness as a defense against them. The offense preys on that sort of shit. Aside from burning Hall, the Lions will probably try to get the Redskins to overreact on screens and the short passes that they love to run, which should then in turn open up the field deeper for Stafford and his cannon arm to rain down hell, which should then make the Redskins skittish enough to back off and then get murdered by Jahvid Best. That’s what I’d like to see happen anyway. Will it? Well, I choose to believe in Hope, so I will say, in the immortal words of St. Francis of Assisi, “Fuck yes.”

And while the Lions will benefit from big plays on offense, the Redskins will be killed by big plays going the other way thanks to McNabb fucking up. Besides, in the Redskins four wins this season, these have been their point totals: 13, 17, 16, 17, so . . . yeah, it’s not like we’re dealing with the Greatest Show on Turf Rams here, you know? As long as the Lions can hit 20 points, they should be able to win this game. That’s not exactly a high threshold. And finally, let’s not forget that the Redskins lost to the Rams, 30-16. They have some good wins, but this is a team that the Lions can beat, and finally, I can say – and mean it – that this is a team that the Lions should beat. And I think they will.

FIVE NO DOUBT TERRIBLE PREDICTIONS

1. Stafford starts slow but ends up completing 22 of 36 passes for 258 yards and 3 touchdowns with 1 interception.

2. Best finds enough room to pick up 70 yards on 16 carries. He also catches 6 passes for 55 yards. He accounts for 1 touchdown.

3. St. Calvin catches 7 passes for 123 yards and 1 touchdown and I start to break out with the weird Dr. Manhattan shit that I did last season.

4. McNabb will complete 25-39 passes for 265 yards and 1 touchdown, but he’ll be picked off 2 times, and each one will be a killer. This will be the difference in the game.

5. Torain will run for 78 yards on 22 carries, as the run defense finally stiffens with the return of DeAndre Levy to the lineup. After the game, The Great Willie Young will ceremonially scalp Torain for being a Redskin and will have to be restrained by his teammates and the ghost of Andrew Jackson when he gets carried away with flashbacks to his days as a warrior during the Indian Wars.

PREDICTED FINAL SCORE: LIONS 24, REDSKINS 17