An Open Letter to the Football Jesus

Dear Mr. Football Jesus,

First off, let me say Thank You- you gave us Cheeseheads 17 years of entertainment, an embarrassment of riches and winning, really. We will always love you for this.

But...

Please stay the fuck away. You're done, you said so, you even cried at your retirement press conference. It was hard, fond memories, blah blah blah. We wanted you back, you said there was nothing left.

We found someone else. His name is Aaron, and since he's following you he's been fucked since the day he was drafted. There is no way he could live up to your image, your mythology. But he may be pretty good, if he can stay healthy. Now you want us back? Why in god's name did you retire in the first place, then?

We call you the Football Jesus because you resurrected football in Green Bay. It cannot be overstated how depressed and sad football was before you came. Mossy Cade was raping women and Forest Gregg was a delusional psychopath. Sure we still sold out every game, drank beer, ate brats and danced to polka in the parking lots during pregame, but it was more a celebration of culture and the past than it was any kind of preparation or excitement for the present, let alone the future. You changed all that, with your Howitzer arm and disarming lack of knowledge of the fetid putridness of the Bart Star, Forest Gregg and Lindy Infante years. I can feel the bile rising in my throat just mentioning that 30+ years of dark, dark hell- but you changed it all. Now we expect to win. Now when you rally the youngest team in the league at 398 years old to a 13-3 record and one stupid, stupid interception away from another Super Bowl (oh sweet Christ was that interception terrible), we're really not that surprised, just happy.

So, uh, thanks for all that. But we've moved on, and you need to move on too. And I don't mean to another NFL team- It's not hyperbole when I say that I simply cannot bear the thought of you wearing another uniform, chucking 50-yard interceptions for another team. It simply cannot happen, it would ruin everything for me. I'm starting to understand how Bulls fans felt seeing MJ shooting jumpers in a Wizards uniform. Nobody needs that.

You're a competitive guy; Jordan tried his hand at baseball, maybe you could do something else. Bullfighting, perhaps? Don't even tell me that the skills you honed dodging and diving away from a crazed Warren Sapp wouldn't translate to you skillfully taunting an enraged and half-dead animal into charging you, then just escaping at the last second to thrill the crowd. That's exactly what you did, and it was great. But it needs to happen somewhere else- anywhere else.

In closing, please stay retired. Not for you, but for us. I don't really give a shit if you have an 'itch' to play. Scratch that shit and get on with your life. We have. I don't want the Football Jesus tag to mean you rose from the dead of retirement to play again. Has that ever, EVER, been a good idea? I don't mean to doubt you, but in the immortal words of Stephen Colbert: "Just because you're infallible doesn't mean you can't be wrong."

Sincerely,

Ghost

Dear Tigers: Get Your Shit Together

I sit here, Sunday night, a week after opening day, and the Tigers have yet to win a game. In fact, I'm gritting my teeth through a 9-1 beat down at the hands of the Chicago White Sox, and it's every bit as bad as it sounds. Justin Verlander gave up 9 runs (4 earned), and the Tigers hitters are making Mark Burhle look like Sandy Fucking Koufax.

I know it's only the first week of the year, but something about this team doesn't smell right. The lineup I was so excited about has amounted to a big pile of fuck-all. In fact, Brandon Inge, the guy they were going to trade away, has been by far their most consistent bat this year. Magglio Ordonez looks like a little girl flailing away, Miguel Cabrera just looks scared of the cold Detroit spring, and Gary Sheffield hurt his widdle pinky. Awwww. If I see them hit into one more double play my head is going to explode.

And as bad as their hitting has been, their pitching has been even worse. The bullpen was considered to be their weakest area this year, but their starting pitching has been atrocious. Dontrelle Willis walked 7 fucking batters yesterday. A couple days before that, I swear to god I saw Nate Robertson throw under-handed because he couldn't find the strike zone if it was hanging out of his pants.

To make matters worse, my annoyance levels are being stretched to new and excruciating heights because of the cosmically idiotic commentary of the ESPN Sunday Night Baseball crew, Jon Miller and Joe Morgan. Two dipshits of this nature not only meeting each other but announcing baseball games on National Television has got to be one of the Seven Signs of the Apocalypse. Joe Morgan just said this: "The good thing about losing this many games is that the odds are in favor of you winning your next one. The more you lose, the more you're due to win." Really, Joe? I might not be a fancy tee-vee announcer, but I'm pretty sure your odds of winning each game are 50/50, regardless of what happened the day before. I can just picture Jim Leyland addressing his team: "Great loss today guys! With a crushing defeat like this, we're gare-un-fucking-teed to win this next one!"

Speaking of Leyland, the only real good thing that will come out of this losing is the inevitable Jim Leyland public media meltdown, due sometime within the next couple of days. It gives me genuine pleasure whenever I see Leyland on the evening news, half-drunk with a Marlboro hanging out the side of his mouth, scaring the piss of a room full of reporters. I really am excited for this.

Oh look- the Tigers just brought Yorman Bazardo into the game. FUCKING AWESOME. Nothing could go wrong here. When I think of quality relief pitching, I think of the name "Yorman Bazardo". Excellent- he just gave up a three-run triple. Kill me. Kill me now.

Before I finish this up to go cry in the corner, I would be remiss in mentioning the all-encompassing ass-suckitude of my arch nemesis on this team, Jason Grilli. On Friday he came in to a tie game and gave up hits to five consecutive batters. I said some truly horrible things about him, some involving his mother and a coat hanger, and I feel a little guilty about this. But only a little, because Jason Grilli truly is not good at what he does. If I was completely incompetent at my job I would sooner or later get the hint and quit. But not Grilli, no, he powers through. Every time I see his stupid face jogging in from the bullpen a little piece of me dies inside, because I know he is going to fuck up. I wish I could place bets on this. Guess what Grilli's ERA is right now? If you guessed twenty-point-fucking-two-five, you win a lifetime supply of Jason Grilli nightmares. Fuck.

ANYWAY, Tigers, get your shit together, because I'm not going downtown to the crime-ridden, hepatitis-infested shithole that is downtown Detroit just to watch you lose.

Ok, maybe I will, but I won't like it.

So maybe I will like it, but I'll have to be drunk. Like, really drunk.

Mmmmm, beer.

What was I talking about again? Oh yeah: the Tigers. Get your shit together, because your losing is making the baby Jesus cry.

The Dallas Cowboys are Cheating Assholes

OK, I may not have proof of this, but sweet Christ-on-a-cracker do I hate the Dallas Cowboys. How could anybody not? Just look at the collection of derelicts and smug dickfaces they've employed over the years: Emmitt Smith, Troy Aikman, Deon Sanders, Leon Lett, Joseph Stalin, Michael "I'm Holding That Crack Pipe for a Friend" Irvin, Adolf Hitler, Charles Haley, Tony Romo (enjoy those herpes Britney Spears rubbed all over you when she gave you that lap dance), and most of all, Terrell Owens. Fuck, Fuck, FUCK Terrell Owens.

I've always hated them, but the game this Thursday vs. the Packers pushed it over the edge. It started right away, with that bullshit "forward progress" call when Al Harris stripped Owens in the first quarter. It was downhill from there, with every time a Packer DB breathed a yellow flag flew in the air. Then they had the nerve to knock the Football Jesus out of the game, no doubt this will result in a swift and horrible punishment from the Football Gods. I'm thinking Wade Phillips' bra brakes in the middle of the 3rd quarter, or something to that effect.

The only good thing about this game was that Aaron Fucking Rodgers almost led them back, and without their best DB (Charles Woodson) and their starting right end (KGB), leading me to conclude that if the Football Jesus hadn't been injured and Mike McCarthy ditched Ray Rhodes' game plan from 1999 and actually went back to the controlled, precision-passing offense that won them ten games in the first place, the Jesus would have led the back to victory. If they meet again in the NFC Championship game, my money is on the Pack.