Posts Tagged ‘NFL’

Who likes sharing the road with idiots? I know I don’t, though I’ve found yelling at the windshield until bits of my lungs are expectorated on the glass seems to have no effect. It’s obvious the police are stretched to the max with real crime and don’t have time to correct minor infractions of traffic etiquette.

I have a solution. Let’s create a squadron of NFL referees in zebra-striped cars to patrol our streets and issue penalties for egregious violations of road courtesy. These infractions would not be paid for in monetary fines, but rather in the one currency people seem to value most: time.

Here is my list of violations and suggested punishments. Feel free to add your own.

Pass interference – An infraction occurs when a driver fails to get their lazy, stupid ass out of the passing lane when faster traffic approaches from the rear. Violators will be flagged and forced to return to their starting point to resume their journey.

Holding – Maintaining a speed BELOW the posted limit even though unimpeded by traffic. Violators of holding penalties will be forced to drive in circles in a Costco parking lot for twenty minutes on a Saturday afternoon.

Illegal use of hands, hands to the face – Any use of an electronic device, such as a cell phone, GPS, radio, or vibrator, while driving. Violations will result in a penalty of one-point-five miles, or half the distance from home, whichever is greater.

Clipping – A clipping penalty is incurred when the driver wanders the hell over into a lane other than the one they are using. Their car is placed at the spot of the foul and they will be ridiculed in public before being allowed to proceed.

Delay of game – Failure to execute an expeditious transit of an intersection for any reason. Violators will be left on the side of the road with two flat tires and no jack.

False start – If, while stationary at stop light, a driver jerks forward because the light next to them changed from red to green, thereby causing others to jump forward, they are guilty of a false start. Punishment will include loss of start when their light changes.

Personal foul, unsportsmanlike conduct – A driver commits a personal foul if they buy a bigass vehicle they can’t properly operate because a.) they are a small woman and operating a big vehicle gives them a false sense of power, or b.) they are a male and have a small penis. Evidence of this personal foul will be a.) any failure to adequately and correctly park said monstrous vehicle in a timely and forthright manner between the lines painted on the parking lot, b.) tires big enough to house a family of four, or c.) inability to see over the steering wheel.

Feel free to add your own penalties. We’ll be back, right after this commercial break…

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Is anybody else besides me gotten truly sick of modern professional football?  Remember when it used to be a game instead of a commercial wrapped around a pre-packaged display of millionaire cry-babies pushing and shoving like 4th graders? 

Once upon a time, quarterbacks got hit.  Receivers were touched.  Guys got dirty.

There were players like Johnny Unitas and Bob Lilly and Mike Ditka.  Guys with crooked noses and compressed spines.  Coaches like Lombardi and Landry, who dressed like gentlemen instead of gym teachers.  Remember?  Back in the days when the Cowboys won playoff games.  Or even WENT to the playoffs.

Do not misunderstand.  Modern football players are huge, brutal men who could crush me like a beer can at a frat house.  But c’mon.  Where’s the fun in watching an NFL telecast these days?

Here’s the script:

Intro.  Talking heads mispronouncing names and giving their (inflated) opinion of how the game will play out.

 What are the keys to the game, Dick?

 Well, the Bears will need to block.  And tackle.  And throw the ball DOWN THE FIELD.

Commerical.

Talking heads.

Kickoff.

Commercial.

Game runs until
 A.) Score
 B.) Change of possession.

Commercial.

If in the event of a score, we have the kickoff, followed by a…

Commercial.

Game breaks from around the league where we watch plays for teams we could give a s*@t less about.

Halftime.  Talking heads give their marginally ignorant opinions about what went right and what went wrong.
 
 Well, Dick, the Bears fumbled the ball fourteen times.  This put their defense in poor field position situations all day.  They’ll have to work on that if they want to get out of this 48-to-3 hole.

Commercial
Commercial
Commercial

Kickoff of the second half.

Commercial

Repeat as above until final commercial and wrap up by talking heads.

So, okay, you get – and I timed this – four minutes of game, surrounded by six minutes of commercial.  Still, it’s a great game, so you watch, only to have to be tortured by the announcers.

Dumb things I have actually heard announcers say:

 “That was a positive gain.” – – Well, duh.  Have you heard of negative gains?  No, they’re called LOSSES.
 
 “They’ll either run or pass at this point.” – – No kidding.  Hit by trains often?
 
 “If they keep missing tackles like that, the [Other Team] will score.”

 “He’s a great back, with lots of forward speed.” – – As opposed to reverse speed, I suppose.

And then there’s Troy Aikman, who maybe had one too many concussions while playing.  Great guy, won Dallas a lot of games, but now he’s an announcer who never seems to know when to insert a PERIOD.

 “This puts them in the kind of situation where I’m sure they didn’t want to be in, given the time on the clock at this point in the game, near the end like it is right now.”  – Or words to that effect.  I paraphrase because Aikman loses me about halfway through a sentence.

Then comes the commercials which, duh, are designed to appeal to men.  I despair.  Either we’re all erectile dysfunctional – see my previous rant – or we believe that drinking watered-down rat piss (aka Budweiser and Miller Lite) will bring us fame, fortune and beautiful women.  And make us manly men, with hairy chests and a cool car.

Sigh.  I hate modern NFL football.  It’s a complete waste of time and – –

What’s that?

Oops.  Sorry, gotta run. 

Game’s fixin’ to start.