City of Pain

dear brett,

go away. no really. just go back to mississippi. retire. do commercials. haunt us every football game selling aftershave or bbq sauce or coors light or vicodin. because after all this bullshit, i’ve had enough of you.

as an eagles fan, this is probably a good thing because it hurts the packers no matter who the quarterback ends up being this year. you’re old and fading. aaron rodgers is young and awful. if the reid kids’ anger and heroin hadn’t distracted him from finding a punt returner last year, the eagles would have won that game, it would have changed the makeup of your entire season, and you wouldn’t have had the honor of throwing a game ending interception as the last play of your career. even then, you didn’t have to retire. just make up your mind and stick with it.

and this is also a big giant fuck you to the media. from espn to profootballtalk to cheeseheadhomos.blogspot.com, this has been the ultimate non-event. oh, he got on a plane. oh oh, he got a plane. fucking hell. there’s a war, an election, a pennant race, and $4 gas. there are actual stories in actual training camps but who cares? a washed up quarterback can’t stand being at home with his wife and kids.  but you know what? even i’m writing about it now. some members of the media have had enough of brett’s antics like don banks on si.com. and i thank them for that. only you can prevent these egomaniacs from thinking they’re special. 

so enjoy tampa or your retirement or sitting on the bench, you ass. you’ve earned every ounce of hatred from packers fan and the general sports following public. and i hope the people who can pay you money in the next phase of your life realize this. we don’t want any more brett farve.

fuck off, 

dj robbie

I always get a little pep in my step on days when I see Old Man Moyer taking the hill against the Florida Marlins. Not only does he own them, but he’s officially in their heads now. The Marlins see him on the mound and their heart and pride just get flushed down the toilet. Just imagine, the Fish are little Billy sitting on the bus, happy to be with his fellow Boy Scout troops going away for a weekend at a nearby camp site. The bus starts up, the troops are ready to roll, happiness finally seems imminent, when suddenly the bus door opens at the last moment and….Father Moyer steps on the bus, shit-eating grin and all, ready for a weekend of ‘Hide the Rosary’. He’s got sweaty palms, dirty fingernails, and reeks of whiskey and Underoos. It’s all over from there on. Old Man Moyer has a bag of tricks. He’ll dink and dunk you to death with 81 mph fastballs, picking his spots perfectly, and rendering the Marlins big bats almost useless. Sort of like the way Father Moyer must open his bag of tricks come nightfall. Ecstasy-spiked holy water, communion wafers made out of crack and laxative, rubber studded crucifixes, and altar boy outfits with strategically placed holes cut into them, just to name a few. How can you compete?

so profootballtalk.com talks steve smith could be traded. and our very own philadelphia eagles are mentioned as a possibility. it’s an intriguing thought. smith’s contract is through 2012 and it’s relatively cheap for the next couple of years. the panthers have two decent cornerbacks in chris gamble and the bruised and battered ken lucas, so lito could be an option in the trade. i suppose we could always trade them back their first rounder for next year.

and we have the added bonus that steve smith would likely strangle howard eskin with his chinchilla scarf the moment he says anything to him about anything.