A Broncos fan spit on me last Christmas in Denver. On the plus side, I’d been praying all game for pass-rushing Beast Von Miller to injure Browns quarterback Brandon Weeden, and in the fourth quarter it happened.
Security saw the spitting and told the guy to get control. My wife (our first football game) told me I’d been spit on. I put my hand on my back into sticky goop. A dipper. Nice.
The dip-spitting Broncos fan apologized and said it was an accident. I was angry. “It’s cool,” I said. “We’re just here to have fun.” Earlier one of his friends had given me shit for my jersey. “Number 32? Who is that, anyway?” This Broncos fan who didn’t know who Jim Brown is got straightened out by my wife in humiliating fashion.
She’s a Broncos fan, my wife, because she loves Peyton Manning because he’s funny in commercials she likes. She eagerly anticipates Von Miller’s return from a drug suspension.
. . .
I wanted Panthers quarterback Cam Newton for my fantasy team. He’s my second-favorite NFL player.* It didn’t work out and I ended up with Redskins QB Robert Griffin III.
RG3 is more fun. He’s the biggest story in the NFL this season, and you’ve got a front-row ticket if he’s on your fantasy team. As a rookie last season he was the fleet, laser-armed savior of a proud franchise that’s been mired in mediocrity for years. His jersey was the league’s top seller.
That’s Andrews on the left
Then his knee blew out, and he kept playing. The highest-profile sports doctor in the county was on the sideline of a playoff game, hidden in a special shed with RGIII. RGIII was limping but the coach called quarterback running plays. The knee was wrecked.
Cam Newton is huge. He’s Arnold Schwarzenegger. RGIII is young Bruce Willis. He’s who I wanna run with this year. It all depends on the surgery Dr. James Andrews performed on that knee.
. . .
Questions for Thunder, my hard-core-Cowboys-fan friend:
1) Can Miles Austin catch 14 touchdowns this year?
2) Will the rookie center from Wisconsin, Travis Frederick, be able to buy Romo precious time?
The end of close NFL games can get crazy. The defensive linemen, already some of the fiercest animals out there, start spitting and twitching and get insanely intense for their rushes at the quarterback. The offensive linemen must elevate their play to hold the animals back.
This is when the Cowboys lose games. Romo hasn’t been clutch because he never has time in the clutch. Maybe Frederick will make a difference.
No way Austin catches 14 TDs. Maybe 8-10. Dez will catch 15+.
Rookie center looks good but they have shit Guards. They just signed Brian Waters 2 days ago who sat out last year but was sick for Patriots – if he can play at that level then they could be decent.
I’m already preparing for a heartbreaking loss Sunday night.
. . .
I don’t want Weeden, the Browns quarterback, to get hurt. I just want him out of the games. Cleveland looks like it might finally be fun to watch on defense. And Browns running back Trent Richardson plays like The Thing in Fantastic Four—a hero made of stone.
It sucks being a Browns fan. My friends and family see the pain it brings and ask why I don’t switch allegiances to another team. I don’t know. . . I just can’t.
Maybe they’ll win the Super Bowl this season.
. . .
* My baby daughter is a week old right now. I’m pretty sure I can get away with watching as much football as I like this season, since she’s so small she doesn’t have any interests I need to indulge. It’s just boob and that’s it. By the end of this one last glorious season, I vow her first word shall be uttered in funny baby voice: “Megatron.” Or “Medatwon.”