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Life and Times of an itinerant slacker in Sacramento. Thrills, Spills Galore coming soon. Not to mention lots of opinions.

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Monday, August 23, 2010

Sunday Night Football . . . or Shakespeare . . . or Sermon

Last night I gave into temptation. Against my better Judgment watched an NFL Exhibition Game . I couldn't resist watching the Vikings at San Francisco. We watched the first half of the game while we prepared dinner (I BBQed and DW and DMIL boiled some corn I picked up at the farmers market and husked Saturday.

Both DMIL and I wanted to see what the Forty Niners had to show and what's up with Favre.

First the Forty Niners:

Alex Smith looked pretty good in the passing – dominated opening drive that resulted in a TD. Lots of nice short yardage completion. This is encouraging.

After the first drive, the Niners offense spent the evening trying to establish a running game that just wasn't there. I wasn't really surprised, since Gore and Westbrook were both absent, and the backfield was filled with no-names. What was a bit alarming was the San Francisco's offensive line's complete inability to open anything even resembling a hole. SF's tackling was terrible. If Vince Lombardi's mantra that “football is a game of fundamentals, blocking and tackling” still means anything in the NFL, the Niners are in trouble. Again.

This leads in to The Sermon. Reverend Goo Goo Googly Eyes (aka Coach Mike Singletary) was miked during the game so we could hear his little motivational sermons. Google Eye Mike apparently prowls the sideline looking for the players that messed up the last play so he can tell them to try harder next time or go home.

Wow, Singletary is a Football Genius. Tell the players to try harder. What insight! What creativity! Why hasn't anyone thought about that before? Man, this is great. Once the players actually try, we're assured a Super Bowl Victory.

Sarcasm aside, I think a professional sports team needs more than a booster. Especially in the Head Coach position. The players are directly supervised by position coaches who report to the Offensive or Defensive Coordinator who in turn report the the Head Coach. Seriously, I don't think the Head Coach needs to make motivational speeches. The Head Coach needs to figure out how to get the numbers in the W column.

Yeah, yeah, I know, Lombardi used that work ethic thing and he was great. But, let's get real. If Lombardi had produced nothing better than the 8 wins Singletary chalked up last year, he'd be long forgotten.

My message to Mike Singletary

Do whatever it takes to get the numbers in the W column. Spare us the motivational sermons until you prove yourself by delivering the Ws. Do what you tell your players – shut up, get to work, and deliver. Everyone will line up to hear your Protestant Work Ethic sermons the two weeks before you lead your team to the super bowl. You know that because you've been there before. Until that joyous January, please spare us.

The Vikings

Like almost everyone else who doesn't make herculean efforts to tune out the NFL, I was there for the next act in the ongoing NFL Players production of “To Favre or not to Favre”. I like a drama queen in shoulder pads as much as the next guy.

We didn't really see much on the field, where Favre took to the sidelines after three unsuccessful downs ending with a body-slamming sack. The Vikings offensive line showed almost no protection at all. I wish Favre all the luck in the world. With a line like that, he'll need it.

Three downs and out wasn't all we got to see of Favre (as if). Halftime treated us to an absolutely nauseating toady inter view of Hamlet-in-a-Helmet. How many times can you hear Al Michaels akd Farve “How it feels to be such a great guy that you came out of retirements for you teammates who love you so much they can't live without you?” No wonder why Favre needs Prilosec. Who wouldn't after listening to so much reflux-inducing crap.

On the lighter side, Redskin Nation is whining that Favre's deigning to grant a halftime interview saved us from Mike Shanahan. A silver lining, at last.

Since I've taken to foisting Happy Tails cats on people every Sunday morning, I'll miss most of this season's football. I'm not very concerned.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

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I must enjoy shouting into a vacuum, but I think about getting my act together one of these days. My mom says I am very handsome and intelligent.

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