Subscribing, like the state, to the newsletter of transparency, I've made it abundantly cellophane my disdain for this weekend's Mr. Slate. But, on an internet already shot with explosive commentary, don't expect me to drop any bombs, just bad syntax.
The Fucking Ravens @ The Fucking Steelers: 'tis nearly a cliche to ring like choosing between Stalin & Hitler, but since I enjoy trivializing things I have absolutely no control over, 'tis like choosing between Stalin & Hitler. Which makes the other AFC gig a choice between Pol Pot & Pinochet. Mano y mano steroidial sangfroid, post-whistle steel cage monkey wrenched skulls, rustbelt throwback grime & loss. If only I were more Serious™ huh. 'cause they're at the Big Ketchup, & what the L.C. Greenwood, in a '75 clothesline timewarp, The Fucking Steelers 16-10.
Green Bay @ Atlanta: The Packers are the superior team, please don't be a moron & buy into the long-discredited notion of records in close games being an arbiter of quality. That said, America's Worst Sporting Town isn't chopped cirrhosis. Special guest star James Starks as Timmy Smith is moot, if Aaron Rodgers stays upright & unconcussed. Packers 21-17.
Seattle @ Chicago: 'tis nearly another cliche to chime the 12th man's king(dome) in Seattle but since the upstarts begin this week's combat on the road, it ends peppered by Julius. Unless Mike Martz reverts to being Mike Martz (or Jay Cutler to being Jay Cutler), always a national security threat. He'll hold off for one more week -- see, America, Matt Forte doesn't suck, only his O-line does. Bears 27-13.
The Fucking Jets @ The Fucking Patriots: Know what annoys besides authority figures & having to deal with people so my nuclear doesn't starve to death shelterless, the unavoidable (outside of brilliantly random meteor strikes & what are the odds of that start praying to the Old Ones) blasphemy that the winner of this game becomes the de facto rooting interest the following week. I'm starting to wonder if there's a Cthulhu. Spiritual crisis aside, they're at home & they're better, thus The Fucking Patriots 34-16.
The Browns, what of 'em? I considered making a Shermer/Shurmer quip, but couldn't get beyond the difficulty of linking the oeuvre of John Hughes with the local football franchise. Oh, a high school outfit, I get jokes! Once upon a time, Sean E. Payton, Super Genius, had his play calling duties ripped & torn away by Li'l Jimmy Fossil. The point: we have no fucking clue if Pat will be a saint or Old Scratch's commandant. As it's been since the Precambrian, talent. The 1-10-1 Packers had some that Lombardi whipped into 7-5, then success forever etched on one of those silver footballs. Sans skill, that's 5-7 or worse you betcha.
Receiver, receiver, draft a receiver are you receiving, Major Tom? Bah & humbug. Is A.J. Green Calvin Johnson, don't know, so I say fix the fucking lines first. Quiet, jealous Sam Bradford. Detroit can't run block, but they can pass protect, 5th in sack percentage, thus Calvinball. Check out historical AVs; higher with O- & D-linemen than receivers, but one admittedly handy number can never tell the whole story -- anyone believe Joey Galloway's better than Lance Alworth? (not that Mr. Green appears to be a slouch & Fairley'll be gone by the time we choose, grumble, etc, so he's probably the pick, though watch him be gone, too, extra grumble).
You can toss to castoffs & pieces-parts if you've a rare collection of large men; see Mr. Bundchen in Ye Olde Bah-ston whose top six hands are 1)undrafted, 2)a second rounder on his second go-round, 3)a fourth round rookie, 4)a second round rookie, 5)an undrafted midget running back & 6)a third round special teamer. Jerry Rice & John Taylor won't help if your quarterback's on his back more often than a DC politician, unless your quarterback is Joe Montana (yes, I'm conveniently ignoring the fact that McCoy ain't either slinger, but who is these days) Think I'm an obfuscatorian? Ask Tim Couch.
Help McCoy, Obi-Wan, you're our only hope.
Oh, come on, Dick, they'll be better than 2-14.