What Have You Done To Our Longsnapper, Hussy!

I’m not going to go on some big rant about how the Chargers should have murdered that stupid team, or that we should have probably put that game away by the third quarter. I mean, I’ll rant some and probably a lot more in the week to come, but for now I’ll just hit on some of the key issues and concerns.

First, CJ picked an awful day to check and see if his Bolts hat was still unlucky. It is. In truth, cockiness abounded with the set we had rolling yesterday, none more guilty than myself. In a huge ironic twist, it was the girl who was preaching rationality all morning. Sadly, booze had already taken hold and our conviction could not be swayed. This made the victory much sweeter for the handful of Ravens faithful in attendance. We’ll see you boys again in the playoffs if you make it that far.

Second, Marty Schotteheimer picked an awful day to continue being Marty Schottenheimer. I am a common defender of old Schotty, but yesterday’s game plan was undefendable. I understand, as most football fans do but are unwilling to admit, the merit of defending a decent lead in the second half. We have a strong defense that is certainly up to the task. The problem here is that 6 points does not a DECENT lead make, you shmuck. You might have to think about converting a third down here and there if you intention is to eat clock. You may have to have some faith in your young QB and let him dump a ball or two to Tomlinson instead of handing it to him over and over up the gut. Douche bag! Oh, and if I ever see anything as ridiculous as that backwards rocket pass to TBE in the first half again, my head might explode and I will expect the district attorney to charge you with my murder. Murder’s a big time crime, buddy. Some might say the biggest.

Nate Kaeding picked an awful day to show A.J. Smith how retarded it is to keep signing players who are not Donnie Edwards to unjustifiably huge contracts. Don’t get me wrong, I like Kaeding a lot, but is $12+ million really what the market dictates?

David Binn picked an awful day to give in to uncontrollable sobbing fits over Pamela Anderson’s handful of marriages to Kid Rock. Move on, big guy. She’s gone. Now snap the ball, it’s your only job! Also, am I the only guy who didn’t realize that if the ball hits the ground on the snap, the other team is allowed to rape your kicker? That seems a little harsh, don’t you think?

One loss does hardly a losing season make, but if we don’t take it out on Pittsburgh Sunday night, I’ll be fit to be tied. I don’t want this season to get all iffy on me. Now, I’m going to go back to nursing my epic hangover and thinking about all the people I have to apologize to for the verbal diarrhea I had going on yesterday. Mother would not be proud. God, I’m an awesome drinker, but I’m sure a lousy drunk. Go Bolts!