Well. it’s New Year’s Day, we’re hip deep in bowl games, and you know what? They just aren’t doing for me like they did in my younger days. I used to love this holiday and all of it’s bowl-bearing goodness, but as of late, me and lady college football have lost the spark. Why, you ask? Of course I’ll explain, otherwise why would I create this ridiculous metaphor with college football as a woman?

She’s put on some weight: How many bowls do we need? I mean, I was excited as the next guy about the R+L Carriers New Orleans Bowl, but christ, Memphis and FAU? These teams didn’t even win their conferences. Did I mention these conferences are Conference USA and the Sun Belt? Memphis came in third in their division in C-USA!  I thought bowls were rewards.  Third in the SEC, okay.  C-USA, not so much.  These guys were 7-5 and got a bowl game, what is this the fucking NFC?

She’s not quite the looker she once was: Cinderella stories are great, but college football thrives on tradition (at least it used to, but more on that later). Without Notre Dame and Miami, who am I to direct my hatred towards? Kansas? Illinois? Having a couple of overacheivers is great for the sport, but with ND, Miami, Florida St, Florida, Texas, Michigan, and Penn State all far from title contenders, well, it’s just weird.

We used to do it all day and night: I absolutely hate having the title game on a different day. Every bowl game of import (which is now one, because of the fucking BCS) should be played on New Year’s Day. Period.

She doesn’t care about my feelings: Why do we now have the month-long crapfest that passes for bowl season?  I dare you to find one fan or analyst who thinks the BCS is superior to a playoff system.  We all want playoffs, but we won’t get them any time in the near future.

She bent tradition over and fucked it in the ass with a BCS broomstick:  I know this makes no sense in this metaphor, and I’m too lazy to figure out how to make it work.  If we can’t have playoffs, at least keep the bowl games traditional.  I loved watching two or three games with title implications on New Year’s, and then waiting for the final polls.  Tell me that doesn’t beat the hell out of some computer telling me LSU deserves it more than Oklahoma or Georgia.

God, I sound old, but I’m bitter.  I want my college football back.  Eat a dick BCS.  That is all.

Take a good long look at the two pictures above, ladies and gentlemen, and tell me, who do you want leading your football team? I’ll freely admit I have a man-crush on Brady. I’ve come to terms with it. Can you blame me though? This guy is fucking incredible. Smart, talented gutsy, clutch, and banging a Victoria’s Secret model. But seriously, Eli? This guy looks like he could play on the Special Olympics basketball team I used to coach. And anyone who didn’t see that second half pick coming should play on that squad with him.

On the other hand, here’s Peyton. Not a looker, and you can see that some Mannings obviously married amongst themselves in the past to create this bloodline that looks like it’s short a chromosome or two. However, Peyton has charisma. You can see this guy being a winner, and he is. I’ll be honest, I’m relieved we won’t play at Indy in the playoffs.

But I digress, we’re here today to talk perfection, 16-0, fuck Shula and his asterisk. What makes this record even more amazing is the era in which the Patriots accomplished this feat. The NFL has done everything in it’s power to level the playing field, and I believe the dynasty will be a rarer and rarer occurrence. Not to downplay Belicheck’s contributions, but the front office and ownership have done a fantastic job turning this once moribund franchise into the NFL’s crown jewel. That’s the difference. Organizations like the Pats and the Colts are successful businesses. Like I said the playing field is level. NFL fans, if your team has been in a rut for years (I’m looking at you Detroit and Arizona), it’s not bad luck, it’s bad management.

Despite all the rumors, the truth is….. I impregnated Jessica Alba, and I don’t even regret catching Derek Jeter’s herpes.

From ESPN:

HEMPSTEAD, N.Y. — The spy games between the New York Jets and New England Patriots began last season.

The Jets were caught videotaping at Gillette Stadium last season and the Patriots had that New York employee removed from the area, according to published reports Wednesday. Jets coach Eric Mangini said his team received permission to film behind both end zones during the playoff game in January.

Now that’s some fucked up shit. First off, how are you going to rat on someone for doing something that you do as well? I mean, that’s just idiotic. I learned in grade school that if you draw attention to something someone else is doing wrong, you sure as hell won’t get away with doing the same shit. The teacher (or Roger “The Hammer” Goodell in this case) is now on the lookout for this type of behavior, not to mention the person you told on is looking for any excuse to tell on you. Secondly, Mangina is a hypocrite. Playing the victim when he was previously an accomplice, and now the ringleader of that type of activity is like Bonds calling out McGwire for using steroids, or Tim Donaghy criticizing Pete Rose for gambling, or Travis Henry urging Shawn Kemp to use birth control, or Favre telling Clemens to quit jerking his team around and retire, or Cookie Monster telling Mutombo to stop talking like a muppet. In any case, I think we could tell Mangina what play we were going to run on every down, and still hang 50 on the J-E-T-S. Hey, at least you guys aren’t last in the division.

Arthur Blank’s office

(I imagine Mr. Blanks office to be a miniaturized Home Depot, replete with miniature unhelpful, orange vest-clad workers)

Blank sits at his desk, overlooking the plumbing department

AB: What a fucking day! I mean no big surprise that Mr. Mexico will be cooling his heels for a couple of years, but follow that up with a drubbing on national television by a team with no defense and no running game…..I feel like Mandingo just fucked me in the ass and I didn’t even get a reacharound. Well, such is life, at least I’ve got the coach I want and a handful of QB prospects to look at.

A Home Depot orange phone rings

AB: Oh, it’s coach Petrino calling. Maybe it’s to apologize for his inept handling of our quarterbacks? I mean fuck it, right? JJ Harrington wins us two in a row, but let’s bench him for Mr. Glass. What a fucking numbnuts.

(As a quick aside, I have no idea if Mr. Blank swears this fucking much in real life, but hey, it’s my fucking play so fuck it.)

AB: Well, in any case, I’ll offer him some words of encouragement, and reaffirm our commitment to him.

AB answers phone

AB: Ahoyhoy.

Bobby P: Good luck with this godforsaken franchise, Arkansas just offered me a cool 3 mil. Don’t think I’ll even bother finishing the season. Don’t forget to tell the fans that still show up to fuck themselves!

AB:(downing a shot of Home Depot Bourbon)Looks like Mandingo’s back, and he forgot the lube.

fin