Ali vs. Frazier . . . If They Fought Right Now, Anyway. Maybe.

Such a noble beast. Well, except for the part where he shits on the ground in front of company. But, we can't all be perfect. Clearly, he is a man of the people and not an elitist.

Finally, we get a chance to fumigate this wretched shithole we have been stuck in ever since the Lions took a big fat dump in the middle of Lambeau Field almost two weeks ago. I am sick of wallowing in the mucky shitwaters of failure. We spent all of last season completely drowning in it, and for the last decade, we have wept and screamed in agony as it has gotten in our mouths, up our nostrils and in our eyes. Everything about us stinks of old shit and it is terrible and it was, uh, well, it wasn't a whole lot of fun to have the Packers come along and push our heads beneath the surface once again. Thankfully, this week, we have the Rams coming to town and lucky for us, they are currently wallowing in this terrible ocean of dirty sadness along with us, only they are even more helpless. So, being the cruel and opportunistic assholes that we are, we must step on their heads in order to rise above the filthy muck, pushing them further and further into this hellish sewer of despair while we get closer and closer to the shore and sweet relief.

Okay, so that was kind of disturbing, but what the hell, we have suffered mightily in the wasteland of Lions fandom and these are the things that happen. We cannot be squeamish and pretend that they are not there, because that would be cowardly and we are gentlemen in our hearts and champions in our souls and we can face these things like the proud warriors we are.

Anyway, this week it is indeed the St. Louis Rams who are coming to town, and in the great failure relay race of life, they have taken the baton from the Lions and have stumbled around, pissing and shitting themselves while spectators laugh and the other competitors mercilessly run them over. They are a horrible team and if there is one thing that I know, it is horrible teams. My own shitbird of a team lost 19 games in a row before finally slapping around the embarrassing Redskins earlier this season. The Rams are closing in on that number, sitting at 17, and even though I feel for their beaten fans' pain, it is my sincere hope that they go into next week with that number bumped up to 18. I am sorry, but these are terrible times and we cannot afford to be merciful to the weak and the stupid.

Okay, fine, the Lions are the weak and the stupid, but at this point we are just kind of like a mildly retarded dude who works as a janitor at a box factory and eats a sack lunch with the crusts cut off, sweetly ignoring all the rest of the assholes who mock him behind his back. Meanwhile, the Rams are a drooling wreck who have to wear a diaper and who break out in tears at random intervals and try to eat the fingers of the nurses who have the grotesque job of feeding them. We are Lenny Small or Forrest Gump, loveable retards who might even appear functional at times. There is no hope for the Rams and they should probably just put those poor bastards down, but everyone is all about being humane these days.

Look, this game will likely be brutal to watch, a collection of dumbassery and pants shitting that would make that fucker Corky weep in embarrassed pain. But the thing about Lenny Small is that he is strong as hell and Forrest Gump is fast as fuck. We will be able to do some things against the Rams, because occasionally we can even blend into polite society. The Rams on the other hand are hopeless. They make our brand of retards look like Nobel winners.

Offensively, there are questions for the Lions, but that is because lately there are always questions. These are not questions of quality, but rather questions of health. If all of our guys are good to go, we should have no problems with these turds. Matthew Stafford is a top level talent who has shown rapid growth early in his career. Calvin Johnson is a time traveling Superman who was possibly the model for Dr. Manhattan. Kevin Smith is a quality starting running back and for the first time all season he should get a chance to maul a lousy defense for a billion yards. Unfortunately, so far this season, each of those sterling dudes has had injury issues. Smith is healthy, but he fucked up his shoulder earlier this season and he hasn't looked all that good for the most part. Stafford's knee cap told him to fuck off and he has been sidelined for the last two games. St. Calvin's knee also decided to take a sabbatical and he missed all of the Green Bay game and most of the Pittsburgh game. Smith will go and it wouldn't surprise me if he was the focus of the offense. And that's because Stafford is still iffy and it's looking more and more like St. Calvin will be stuck on the sidelines once again, probably composing sonnets.

With St. Calvin out, the Lions passing game suddenly starts to look kinda shitty. They should still have plenty of success against the terrible St. Louis pass defense, but I can see Jim Schwartz and Scott Linehan just saying fuck it, and giving the ball to the comparatively healthy Smith over and over and over again. I mean, why not? The St. Louis run defense hasn't been quite as awful as the pass defense, but Smith still should be able to move the ball effectively on the ground. If he can't run on this team, well . . . then things aren't looking so hot for the Lions running game. It's possible that we will get a boost here from Jon Jansen, who it looks like might be starting at left guard from now on. I'm cool with this. Jansen has a ton of starting experience and his big problem was that he was getting smoked by pass rushers at tackle, so why not try him at guard? Maybe it will extend his career a couple of seasons and maybe it will give the Lions a semi-competent starter at the position for a change.

Even if Smith gets the bulk of the work in this game, I can still see Stafford lighting the Rams' shittastic secondary up fairly often. Even without Calvin Johnson to throw to, Stafford should be able to move the ball down the field just like everybody else has against the Rams this season. Bryant Johnson and Dennis Northcutt aren't exactly world beaters, but they are certainly good enough to beat the collection of simps and waterheads who patrol the back end of the Rams' defense. I also wouldn't be surprised to see the Lions try to get Brandon Pettigrew going underneath in this game.

The other side of the ball is another matter entirely. The Lions suck, and it's not because they are injured. Sure, there are some injury issues, especially along the defensive line, but the defense's problems rest almost entirely in the secondary, where a collection of stiffs has made me have epic flashbacks to old ass Brian Kelly getting his mummified corpse beat on every other play last season. Anthony Henry has been so bad that the coaches have dropped him down to the scout team and Phillip Buchanon has been so frustrating that he is currently stuck battling DeMarcus Faggins for a starting job opposite the renowned William James. Things, uh, well, they're not so great here.

Thankfully, the Rams can't pass the ball. Marc Bulger no longer has the remains of the old great Rams offenses to prop him up, and with legends like Donnie Avery, Keenan Burton and Danny Amendola to throw to, Bulger isn't exactly setting the world on fire. Still, it wouldn't surprise me if the Rams can frustratingly move the ball through the air a bit against the Lions, because, really, a retarded baboon could light up the Detroit secondary.

The one good player the Rams still have is Steven Jackson. Jackson has actually had a pretty good season so far despite being stuck in the middle of an apocalypse. He should be able to run the ball against the Lions defense, but I doubt he'll run wild. The Detroit run defense has actually managed to hold it together for the most part this season. They are only 20th in the league against the run, but they have given up a lot of long runs which sort of distort that stat. I know that sounds stupid, but stay with me here. For the most part, the Lions have been able to bottle up opposing ball carriers. No one this season has been able to rip off six or seven yards at a consistent pop, slowly marching the team down the field or anything like that, which is what you usually associate with a bad rush defense. Instead, the Lions have been struck by the idiot stick a few too many times and running backs have exploded for big plays after being stuffed time and time again. It happened with Matt Forte, it happened with Rashard Mendenhall and it even happened with Adrian Peterson. None of those dudes really controlled the game, and their final numbers were inflated by one or two big plays that sandwiched a sea of nothing.

If the defense can keep Jackson from breaking a couple of big plays, the Lions should be able to stuff him at the line fairly regularly. And even if he does manage to bust a couple, it is unlikely that the Rams will be able to consistently move the ball enough on the ground to sustain drives. They will probably find themselves in a lot of 2nd and 8s, and with their shitty passing game, I can see the Lions shutting them down a lot more often than I can see the Rams defense shutting the Lions offense down.

We have to win this game. We just have to. To lose now, to the Rams, would be fucking embarrassing and would have everyone freaking out and throwing flaming bags of shit at their neighbors once again. A terrible thing, just awful, and none of us need to relive that ridiculous bullshit. We are coming off of a disastrous performance against Green Bay and everyone's confidence is kind of shaken. We are still hopeful, but there is a dark fear in our eyes now and we have taken to muttering and shaking our heads. When we beat the Rams, a chunk of that will dissipate and float gently away and we can get back to being excited about the future again. As always, I am hopeful, because I am an optimist and a gentleman. We have suffered much, but so did Indiana Jones, and in the end, he saved the day and banged a bunch of different chicks, even as he became old and senile. The point? There is hope, even for the foolish and the deranged. That is enough for me.

FIVE RIDICULOUS PREDICTIONS

1. Kevin Smith will be the focal point of the offense, rushing 30 times for 155 yards and two touchdowns. After the game, he makes up for his previous shunning of Ernie Sims' monkey by donating his salary for the game towards the building of a habitat for run away and at risk monkeys. He is hailed as a model philanthropist and is honored by Congress.

2. Matthew Stafford will go 15-23 for 206 yards and two touchdowns. After the game, he will have an emotional reunion with his kneecap, which the cameras lovingly capture until things become a little too, uh, heated and uncomfortable and FOX has to cut away in order to avoid fines from the FCC.

3. Steven Jackson rushes 25 times for 96 yards and a touchdown. After the game, Sammie Lee Hill and Grady Jackson get into a brawl when they can't decide which one of them gets to feast on Jackson's detached leg.

4. Marc Bulger throws the ball 25 times, completing 15 passes for 187 yards. He is sacked three times and throws two interceptions to go with one touchdown. After the game, he is found weeping and alone, naked in the shower, staring at a group photo of him, Torry Holt, Orlando Pace, Isaac Bruce, and Marshall Faulk with Mike Martz

5. Calvin Johnson once again doesn't play, and after the game it is revealed that he is sitting out on purpose. When asked why, he claims that he is teaching humanity a lesson. They need to learn to solve their own problems instead of relying upon him and his otherworldly powers. One reporter scoffs at the idea that St. Calvin is superhuman, and so Calvin turns him into a small chicken, which is then devoured by Grady Jackson, still hungry after being forced to split Steven Jackson's leg with Sammie Lee Hill. St. Calvin then goes back in time and writes a play based on the incident which is credited to Shakespeare, a comedy titled A Fowl Feast. It is renowned for its groundbreaking use of the fart joke.

PREDICTED FINAL SCORE: Lions 31, Rams 17. Okay, so I had to go back a day later and add this to my post because I realized that I forgot to predict a final score for the second straight week, and since this is a general preview post, and since the natural climax of a preview post is a concrete prediction of a final score, I figured I would tack it on here. Honestly, even as I was writing all that other dumb bullshit yesterday, I had that final score in my head and I just assumed I would include it, but I didn't, so I guess I am a dumb asshole, but, hell, who isn't these days?

We Are All Idiots, But Who Cares?

Yeah, that's a lion. Also, I can't be sure, but I swear that Lion just blinked at me.

The bye week came at both the best and the worst possible time for the Lions. The team is so absurdly beat up that without the week off it wouldn't have been surprising if the Grim Reaper was spotted hanging out on the sideline or if Kevin Smith or someone was mauled by a wild ape during the game. You might say something like that is unlikely, but I would just say that you are naive. So, yeah, it was nice that everyone got to rest and chill with their families or their whores or their monkeys or whatever, but it kind of sucked to have to wait to see them play again, because it just meant that it was another long week spent with the memory of what went down in Green Bay swimming through the brains of fans, players, coaches, team doctors, team pets, and everyone who witnessed that atrocity. After a game like that, you kind of just want the next one to get here as soon as possible so that you can replace the screaming pain of that awful memory with something a little more tolerable.

In my mind right now, the Lions are fucking terrible. In large part, this is thanks to that hideous performance they put on in Green Bay. They are a bad team anyway, but they look even worse to me right now because the last time I saw them they were being whipped up on like . . . okay, there is no joke I could make here that wouldn't be wildly offensive to someone and so I'll just let your own fucked up imagination run wild. Have a blast. Anyway, it's hard to feel good about your team when the images that float through your head are Daunte Culpepper's wretched old body giving out on him without even being hit or Daunte or Ol' Plucky tossing an interception or getting sacked or flailing around on fire while the Green Bay defense so compassionately stomps the shit out of them in order to put the fire out. Such humanitarians.

Violent mood swings are common in the sports world. You win one week and it's candy and blowjobs for everyone. All your fans freak out and rush to be the first to drive the bandwagon. The next week, you lose and it's drain cleaner and kicks in the balls for everyone. All your fans freak out and murder the person driving the bandwagon and then set fire to it. It's terrible and it's ridiculous but it is just the way it is. Especially in football. Football is unique for a couple of reasons. First of all, there is only one game a week, and so win or lose, that feeling sticks a hell of a lot longer than it does in a sport where you get to play again the next day. Second of all, there are hardly any games at all. So every win or every loss feels like a ten game winning streak or losing streak would to a baseball fan. Everything is magnified, everything means so much more, and that's part of what makes football so fun and awesome and insane and great and crazy and nauseating and every other adjective you can think of. And it's what makes its fans such a collection of gibbering baboons, screaming in some kind of feral heat about every little thing.

It happens to the best and to the worst of us. It makes us laugh and it makes us cry, it makes us smile, and it makes us ball up our fists and throw little shit fits like we are children or retards, or retarded children I suppose. It makes dudes like me start writing weird bullshit about monkeys and Napoleon and time traveling wide receivers. The more you pay attention to this shit, the more it drives you mad. When I was a kid, I would just show up in front of the TV and watch the game on Sunday. And then when it was over, I wouldn't really think that much more about it until the time came for the next game. Now, it just never ends. Now, it's who's hurt and who played well and who played like shit and what roster moves are they making and hey there's a dude on some forum saying something I don't agree with, let's bitch about that and a billion other stupid things that keep us all ramped up and stupid with idiot fire in our hearts until the next game comes along and then it all starts up again and OH LORD it never ends, it never ends. This can be really fun when you are the fan of a team that wins all the time. When you are a fan of the Detroit Lions, it is something unique and strange and entirely fucked up that is almost impossible to explain to someone who isn't going through the same thing. There is a lot of hand wringing and wallowing in stupid misery and it starts to feel like some sort of masochistic death march, obscene and terrible, but there is always the sense - at least in my own strange mind - that there is a point to it all, that at some point, the misery will be paid off and we will know great happiness and long lasting joy. It is a fool's hope and I have written about it many times here. In a way, it is like we are all a bunch of degenerate gamblers who just keep losing and losing and instead of cutting our losses and slinking away to cry into the night, we just do the only thing we know how to do and keep slapping down money until we are all sweaty and deranged, stupid and desperate, hoping against hope that this time we will win big and that we will recoup all of those terrible losses. We're constantly trying to play our way out of the hole and most of us are in so deep that we have no other choice.

I love football, and I love the Detroit Lions. Most of you just laughed but fuck it, it is what it is. I also love to write. It's a frightening combination and it leads to a lot of weird bullshit and madness on my part. Perhaps I am idiot for caring about this thing to begin with, and I am almost certainly an idiot for rambling on about it several times a week for other idiots . . . uh, I mean, gentlemen and lady gentlemen and enthusiasts, to read. I don't care though. This is fun to me. That is warped and it makes no damn sense but sports and sports fandom are by themselves nonsensical things that have no rationale. They are the last bastion of the perpetually hopeful and the dangerously stupid. We are all idiot children, screaming dumb gibberish into an ill wind that just blows back in our faces, but what the hell, by tomorrow I will be writing more weird bullshit about the Lions and I will be cheering for them on Sunday because I am a fan and an idiot and there is simply no way I couldn't.

Anyway, these are the things that happen to a man when you give him an extra week to marinate in the sewer of failure. I am covered with shit and I am babbling like a lunatic. Thankfully the Lions have a game this weekend, and thankfully that will give me something concrete to gibber on about. Hopefully, the week off has done the team some good. Hopefully, they all had adamantium grafted onto their bones and have been pumped full of liquid hate and have been fitted with personalized transmitters that emit a frequency that makes opposing players shit their pants or do the stanky legg or preferably both. I mean, the researchers and engineers at Ford have to be doing something, right?

We aren't even halfway through the season and already it has gotten weird. It will only get stranger and we'll probably see a few games like the one against the Packers, terrible things that leave us drowning in a pool of our vomit or screaming obscenities at random inanimate objects, scaring small animals and ourselves along the way. But there will also be games when all of that dumb bullshit falls by the side of the road and we pump our fists and smile and cheer like retards along with complete strangers about a game where a bunch of asshole millionaires try to beat the shit out of other asshole millionaires and old men scream at guys in striped shirts. It will be wonderful. There is a long way to go. Vaya con dios.

Now What in the Hell is This Gibberish?

I have no idea what in the hell this is all about, but as both a vegetarian and a Lions fan, I am both amused and intrigued. The truth is, is that I am some fucked up combination of these two dudes.

With the bye week here, the sheer inanity of my predictions can linger, aging like a fine wine, ripening until all there is left to do is uncork that son of a bitch and savor the bold rich . . . oh, oh God, I have made a mistake. The correct simile here is a stale fart, not a fine wine. So, let's, uh, drop our drawers and see how bad it really smells.

PREDICTION THE FIRST

WHAT I SAID: Stafford starts and has a nice game, throwing for 260 yards and 2 touchdowns. He also throws an interception which is taken to the house by Charles Woodson.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Uh . . . well . . . so yeah, okay, this one was in flames right from the start. Stafford's knee cap refused to cooperate and he spent the game on the sideline, wrapped in a parka, while his replacement, the 2004 Fantasy Football MVP, assed his way around the field until his body told him to go fuck himself. That left Drew Stanton, who . . . well, let's not go down this road again. Anyway, Culpepper's final numbers were 6-14 for 48 yards and 0 touchdowns. He also threw a horrible interception to a defensive lineman. Yeah. Meanwhile, Ol' Plucky's final numbers were 5-11 for 57 yards and 0 touchdowns. Ol' Plucky managed to one up Culpepper with 2 interceptions. For the game, Lions QB's were 11-25 for 105 yards, 0 touchdowns and 3 interceptions. Both Culpepper and Stanton had QB ratings of 22. TWENTY FUCKING TWO. Ahem, sorry, I just shit my pants and spazzed out a little. The orderlies have zapped me with a cattle prod and the dude who thinks he's Napoleon just slapped me around a little so everything should be okay for a while.

Well . . . uh . . . what can you say about this shittastic performance that I haven't already said? It was a terrifying and nauseating throwback to the killing fields of last season and everyone involved in this debacle should be ashamed of themselves. For fuck's sake, I even heard a rumor that Ernie Sims' poor monkey tried to hang himself while watching this game. Awful, just awful.

If there is a positive to all this it is that I was wrong about Charles Woodson picking one off and taking it to the house. Well, thank God for small miracles, right? Excuse me while I drink this can of lighter fluid and then suck on a candle.

PREDICTION THE SECOND

WHAT I SAID: Calvin Johnson doesn't play. Bryant Johnson has a decent game, catching 6 passes for 90 yards and a touchdown. After the game, St. Calvin mystifies a horde of reporters by reciting a monologue from Hamlet. There is a rush by many to claim that this is proof that St. Calvin is somehow depressed, a notion which is dispelled when it is revealed that he is actually the man who wrote all of Shakespeare's plays and he is just showing off. There will be much confusion as to how this all happened, until it is revealed that St. Calvin exists outside of the space time continuum and moves at will through the universe and it's various ages. One dumb reporter tries to compare it to Back to the Future, but St. Calvin verbally smacks him down, saying "Do I look like some geeky ass white boy on a skate board to you?" Someone else makes a Doc Brown crack, causing St. Calvin to say "The last time we had some white haired crazy motherfucker running shit here, y'all ran his ass out of town and then we went 0-16." The next day, Mike Martz buys himself a DeLorean. He spends a full day just sitting behind the wheel and weeping.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Hey, what do you know, I was right. At least about St. Calvin not playing. You'll excuse me if I don't break into raucous celebration. I might sing, I might dance a little bit, I might get drunk, and I might take a baseball bat and smash the shit out of something resembling a piñata, but I can promise you that none of those things are related to one another. Well, the smashing with a baseball bat might be related a little bit to the drinking and to the St. Calvin situation, but other than that, no.

Meanwhile, Bryant Johnson only caught 2 passes for 27 yards, and, well . . . fuck this. GOOD LORD, these shitheads were fucking terrible and as I look at the stats the horrors of that game are just rushing back, and . . . okay, I'll be good. No, you don't have to get the shock collar. I don't wanna take the red pills. Okay, okay fine, just put away the batons, please.

Ahem, anyway, St. Calvin spent the game chilling next to Matthew Stafford while everyone else played like a bunch of retarded tree sloths against the Packers. Okay, I must admit that I have never known a retarded tree sloth, but all of the tree sloths I have known are kind of dim anyway, and they are really uncoordinated, so I will not apologize for making that leap.

Sadly, St. Calvin has yet to come out and admit that he authored Shakespeare's greatest works, but I am confident that this will come to pass sometime in the very near future. Or perhaps it has already happened and St. Calvin, using his powers, went back in time to erase all of our memories. He is just toying with us, laughing at us behind our human backs. Also, I was wrong about Mike Martz buying a DeLorean and then weeping behind the wheel. It was an '87 Ford Tempo and he wasn't weeping, he was just afflicted by allergies. My mistake.

PREDICTION THE THIRD

WHAT I SAID: Kevin Smith runs the ball 25 times for 91 yards and a touchdown. He wears a patch on his uniform in support of Ernie Sims' monkey, who is still hiding from the authorities.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Smith ran the ball 15 times for 61 yards. He didn't score, but those numbers actually kind of shock me. The Lions were so terrible on Sunday - see all of the above gibberish - that in my head, I pictured Smith's final numbers being much, much uglier. He was thirty yards shy of my prediction, which I thought at the time was fairly optimistic, but his yards per carry was actually slightly higher than what I called for. In the apocalyptic sea of shit that the Lions were collectively drowned in on Sunday, Smith actually managed to keep his head above water enough to put up average, and dare I say it, respectable numbers.

I suppose it is fitting. After all, this was a vintage Lions performance, ripped straight out of 2008. And Smith's game was very much like his 2008 season. It didn't seem all that decent until you look at the numbers. In 2008, Smith somehow managed over 4 yards a carry, same as in this game, and just like in 2008, while everything else went to hell around him, Smith kept churning forward until, at the end, he was one of the few who had something to point to and say "See, I tried. I did my part." The unfortunate thing about all that is while it sounds good, it's a bad sign that I am continuously surprised to see Smith's numbers reflect a better showing than I remember. It's not like I watched him take control of the game - this one, or any one last year - and move the pile forward. He wasn't keeping the Lions in the game or exerting his will like the best running backs do. I would rather think "Wow, this dude is getting the job done," and then be surprised that his numbers aren't all that spectacular than think "Man, we can't run the ball again," only to see that his numbers are actually semi-decent. What I saw and what the numbers tell just don't mesh.

Okay, let's look at this a little differently. Smith's long run for the game was 20 yards. That's not much, but when his total is 61, that's pretty much a third of his yardage right there. I remember that play. It was a good run, and I think it was part of a semi-functional series by the Lions which featured a pair of decent runs by Smith, a couple of slow balls by Ol' Plucky and an end zone interception. Take that run away, and Smith's numbers suddenly look much worse - 14 carries for 41 yards, or slightly less than 3 yards per carry.

The point to all this nerdery? Smith had one decent run amidst a sea of general ineptitude. I still like him, but, really, he has had one good game this season, in the loss to the Vikings where his shoulder up and left, and I am kinda disappointed in what we have gotten from him this year. This is probably due to my wild and irrational expectations coming into this season, wild and irrational expectations that were partly fueled by Smith's surprising final numbers last season. After watching this game, which seemed like an echo of last season both for the Lions and for Smith, I am now vaguely uncomfortable with those expectations. It's possible - even probable - that Smith will end up with surprisingly decent final numbers yet again. Unfortunately, those numbers just don't seem like they are translating all that well to the field. I'm not sure if that really makes sense, but well, there it is.

Sadly, Smith did not wear a patch on his uniform in support of Sims' monkey, and if the rumors that I mentioned earlier about the poor little guy trying to hang himself are true, well then Smith should be ashamed of himself. All the monkey wants and needs are the support of his friends.

PREDICTION THE FOURTH

WHAT I SAID: Aaron Rodgers throws for 350 yards and 4 touchdowns. He is only sacked once, and after the game he prank calls Brett Favre, who just smiles and admires his Wranglers because he is just havin' fun out there.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Rodgers threw for 358 yards and two touchdowns to go along with an interception. He was sacked 5 times, which makes his final numbers that much more ridiculous and makes the Lions secondary look that much more awful. If Rodgers would have had a decent offensive line in front of him he probably would have gone over 400 yards for the game, and . . . oh Jesus, I just pictured what that would have looked like and . . . and the orderlies are back and this time they have giant needles and even the little dude who thinks he is Napoleon is scared of this shit. He is cowering in a corner, and . . . let's just move on.

PREDICTION THE FIFTH

WHAT I SAID: Ryan Grant is held somewhat in check. He goes for 80 yards on only 17 carries. He scores a touchdown. After the game it is revealed that St. Calvin, using his Godlike powers, has managed to put some sort of bizarre force field into play which causes opposing running games to falter. When asked why he doesn't just keep them from gaining any yards at all, St. Calvin grows exasperated, saying "What the fuck do you want from me? Have you seen the shitheads on our defensive line? There is only so much even I can do." One intrepid reporter keeps digging into the story until it is scandalously revealed that Calvin Johnson was the inspiration for Dr. Manhattan. When it is questioned how this is possible, St. Calvin just laughs and once again breaks out the "Lord, what fools these mortals be."

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Grant ran for 90 yards on 24 carries. Basically, I was right about this one. A lot of Grant's yardage came in garbage time, when the game was long over and everyone just wanted to get the fuck out of there. Okay, okay, to be honest, that could mean any time after the halfway point of the first quarter. But, really, before late in the fourth quarter, Grant's numbers were pretty dismal. The Lions once again largely shut down an opposing running game, which is mystifying since the Lions defensive line for the game was made up of homeless people, a statue of Vince Lombardi they found before the game and a couple of fat people they dragged out of the crowd and stuck uniforms on. I have no idea how they continue to do this, but they are doing it. Part of it probably has something to do with the recognition that they absolutely cannot stop the pass and so they are devoting as much of their energy as they can to stuffing the run. You might as well do one thing well. Another reason is because other teams recognize that the Lions couldn't break up a pass if they had flamethrowers and throwing stars to use on opposing receivers. This means that teams are willing to forego the run and just pass all day long. There is no real need to establish the run because, fuck, why bother? You can just throw all over these doofuses(doofesi?). They aren't going to stop you. Why bother with five yards here, six yards there, when 20 will do just fine?

Once again, I was disappointed that St. Calvin remained demure about his obvious superpowers, but I am confident that we will all learn the truth in time. That is assuming my earlier concerns about him manipulating us all through the space time continuum aren't true, and man, let's just hope they aren't, because we need a beneficent St. Calvin on our side. If he is seduced by his power or loses touch with the wants and needs of the ordinary man then we are all doomed. DOOMED. Okay, shit, gotta go, the orderlies are back and this time they brought with them the one the other patients call Dr. Pain and that motherfucker looks like he's in a bad mood. NO . . . I'll be good. PUT DOWN THE TAZER . . . I BEG YOU. NAPOLEON . . . HELP!

Random Gibberish

Yeah, dude, I know.

This week is a little slower than normal because the Lions have a bye. The good news is that this will hopefully give St. Calvin, Matthew Stafford and everyone else missing a limb time to heal. The bad news is that we are stuck with the wretched aftertaste of Sunday's debacle in Green Bay for another week. And since we have nothing to do but wallow in the muck, let's just get on with it.

HOW DOES THIS DUDE STILL HAVE A JOB?

When That Fine and Decent Man we used to have as a head coach was stuck in a box and mailed to Chicago, it was obvious that it wasn't just him but his whole abomination of a coaching staff that needed to go. Naturally, that's what happened, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Most of our coaches were new, and maybe, just maybe we could finally move on from the hellstorm that has been the last decade of Lions football. Sure, there were a couple of holdovers, dudes like Sam Gash and Shawn Jefferson who seem like promising young coaches, former players who have overseen mostly competent units that have somehow stayed afloat in the sea of despair, but there was one holdover whose stranglehold on the job seemed puzzling to say the least.

You see, once upon a time, the Lions special teams units were always very good. They kicked well, they punted well, they always had the best return game in the league and their kick coverage units were at least decent. And then Stan Kwan was named the special teams coach, the returns dried up, the coverage became abysmal and even the punting game started to become a little erratic. The kicking game has survived, largely due to Jason Hanson, who, as well know, is a robot created in a lab by Swiss scientists who were trying to develop the ultimate soccer striker. Unfortunately, Jason just couldn't kick a round ball and so the scientists, frustrated by their failure, decided to pull the plug. They tasked a young scientist with driving him out into the wilderness like the robot kid in that 100 year long movie AI, only the young scientist was moved to tears because robot Jason, who didn't know he was a robot, thought they were going to the county fair and he was so excited. So, the young scientist hustled Jason out of the country, driving all night until he stuck him on a freighter out of Marseilles, which then made it's way to the United States where he was adopted by a sweet couple unable to have a child of their own. A few months later, young robot Jason found that while he couldn't kick a round ball, he was more than capable of smashing the shit out of an oblong ball, and a few years after that, he found himself enrolled at Washington State and the rest is history.

Where the fuck was I? Oh yeah, Stan Kwan. Anyway, ever since Stan Kwan took over as coach, nearly every phase of the special teams has been a disaster. How in the hell did this guy get to keep his job when Jim Schwartz took over? I will not be hackneyed and make a lame joke about incriminating photos, so . . . I dunno, maybe he's a warlock?

Sure enough, so far this season, the Lions have been repeatedly punched in the balls by long returns from the opposition while our own return game has once again stagnated in the horrible marsh of failure. And still, ol' Stan keeps his job. Sounds like a warlock to me. Someone check the locker room for entrails and eyes of newt. Good Lord, what a debacle.

There has been so much misery and so many things that have needed to be fixed in this decade of infinite pain that it was all too easy to overlook the perpetual putrescence(alliteration~)of the special teams. Well, now that many of those other, bigger problems have at least been stabilized, the problems of that shittastic unit stink even worse. It was like they were a pile of dog shit buried in a sea of cow shit. Everyone bitched about the damn cow shit and so they sold all the cows and cleaned up all that shit, only to find that the fucking dogs were still running around stinking up the place.

I'm sorry, that was a weird and terrible analogy, even for me. Anyway, every week that this goes on, the more maddening it becomes that, somehow, Stan Kwan is still our special teams coach. I'm assuming he'll get to the end of the year and then he'll find his shit boxed up as soon as the last game ends, but fuck it, I figured that would be the case last year too, so what the hell do I know? He could be here for a thousand years. Remember, it's possible that this man is a warlock, and if that's the case, the possibilities are both terrible and endless.

CAN WE PUT THIS SHIT TO BED NOW?

Anyone who thinks that Daunte Culpepper is a good quarterback in 2009 is an idiot. The end.

ARE OPPOSING TEAMS HIRING SNIPERS?

After every other play on Sunday, it seemed like another Lions defensive lineman was lying on the turf while the announcers talked about how low they were on numbers at the position. It was terrible to watch and by the end of the game, the Lions were sticking Stephen Peterman in the goal line packages simply because he was appropriately fat. I mean, come on, haven't we suffered enough in this terrible decade? We finally start to climb out from beneath all of the rubble, dust ourselves off, and then everyone's knee caps explode and shoulders get torn out by angry demons and I'm left gibbering about monkeys and time traveling wide receivers.

The injuries so far this season seem staggering. There's not a single position group that has come away unscathed. It seems like everyone has been hurt at some point this season. Even Jason Hanson, who has played for 126 years, went down for a while in the preseason. And he's a robot. For fuck's sake. Maybe this has something to do with Stan Kwan's witchcraft. You mess with dark magic, Stan, and there are bound to be consequences.

By the end of the year, this team might look like a collection of fucked up zombies, staggering through their games, all stiff and bellowing about brains while everyone runs right by them and no one needs to see that. Goddamn. I think they need to hire the scientists who created Jason Hanson and make all of our dudes bionic. It's the only way any of them will survive. That way, we can get cool shit like Ernie Sims shooting lasers from his shoulder or Kevin Smith springing over tacklers like he is Inspector Gadget or some asshole like that. We have suffered for so long, we deserve this. COME ON GIVE IT TO US WEIRD SCIENTISTS WHO CREATED JASON HANSON.

Okay, this whole post has been strange and utterly without merit. I don't apologize for any of it, though. These are strange and terrible times, and these things happen. Vaya con dios.

Well, That Did Not Go Well

Oh, the horror.

There have been a lot of apocalyptic games played by the Lions at Lambeau Field over the past couple of decades, including the game which served as the sixteenth and final nail in last year's terrible coffin. I did a running diary of that game, a collection of absurd pain which served as the capper for the Bataan Death March that was the 2008 season. But today's game, today's awful, despicable game, was perhaps even uglier. It wasn't necessarily more painful - how could it be? But it was incredibly ugly, utterly without merit and made me contemplate peeling all of my skin off with a potato peeler so that I could rid myself of anything and everything that was exposed to that horrific spectacle.

The final score was 26-0 in favor of the Packers, but it felt like it could have been - and probably should have been - something more along the lines of 42-0 or 73-0 or FUCK YOU NEIL - 0. As a Lions fan, I am all too familiar with that last one. The thing that made this game so nauseating though wasn't just that the Lions lost, and it wasn't even just that the score was so lopsided, it was because the Packers pretty much looked like shit and still treated us like we were a retarded gazelle and like they were a cheetah on PCP. A terrible thing, just awful.

The Green Bay offensive line still couldn't protect Aaron Rodgers at all, but that doesn't really matter when your receivers are so wide open that you can pretty much just snap the ball and throw within one second on every down. That shit was embarrassing. I mean, everyone knew coming in that the Lions secondary was pretty terrible, but I think they set new lows in this one. The Packers could have lined up Don Hutson at wide receiver and he would have had a field day. I'm talking about Don Hutson right now, and that dude's been dead for 12 years.

The Packers couldn't really run the ball, couldn't protect the quarterback and made an obscene amount of mistakes. And yet, they blew the Lions right the fuck off the field. How does that even happen? If the Lions were playing a genuinely good football team this week, they might have lost 98-0. I'm hardly even exaggerating. Good Lord.

Was this a step back? I don't know. I mean, on the surface, you kind of have to say that it was, right? But then you look beneath that surface and you see that both Matthew Stafford and Calvin Johnson were just chilling on the sidelines and that the Lions looked like they needed a field medic to help dress shrapnel wounds and psychologists to deal with shell shock, and you can kind of say that we should just throw this one out as a freak game that has no real bearing on the future.

Still, there were signs, terrible signs, that made me shiver and shake and look desperately at the sidelines to make sure that Rod Marinelli wasn't waddling up and down them anymore. The Packers returned the opening kickoff for a touchdown, which was subsequently called back due to holding, but still, man . . . you know, it wouldn't surprise me if, when the game ended, Stan Kwan, the Lions special teams coach, went back to the locker room only to find all his shit in the box and a guard waiting to rough him up and throw him out of the building. Don't try swimming back across Lake Michigan, Stan, there are sharks and mermaids with razor teeth and rabies in there.

The quarterbacks looked like shit, showing a general ineptitude which called to mind the greats of the past decade, sterling names like Joey Harrington and Dan Orlovsky. Daunte Culpepper reminded everyone that he is indeed Daunte Culpepper. It was like watching game film from last season while he was still out there. His day mercifully ended when his old ass body said "Fuck this, I'm out of here," and bailed out on him without a Packer even touching him. That brought forth the golden child, the great underdog who owns the hearts of Lions fans everywhere, the plucky~ Drew Stanton. Sure enough, ol' Drew threw an interception and was buried by a couple of sacks. After managing to hand off to Kevin Smith for a couple of decent gains and completing a couple of passes that were so slow they looked like they were thrown by a stoned high school quarterback, the announcers predictably started talking about how impressed they were with Ol' Plucky and I went insane. I mean, I am starting to feel that when it comes to Drew Stanton that I am the only one not afflicted by some terrible spell wrought by some weird sorcery. I am like that dude in a TV show who wakes up in an alternate reality where everything and everyone is different and only he can see the truth and he spends the whole episode ranting and raving until he finally breaks down and then is committed to an asylum or rescued by some degenerate wizard or wakes up only to find that it was all a dream, only that one dude's shoes are the same as the dream and what if it was all real???

As you can see, Drew Stanton makes me insane. Or he makes everyone else insane and I am the only sane one left. I don't know. What I do know is that two plays after the announcers began to rhapsodize about Ol' Plucky, he threw an interception and I vomited, went outside and powerbombed a gopher.

This game was terrible and obscene. It was so bad that with a little under two minutes left in the game, FOX just said fuck it, and switched it to the game between the Saints and the Giants. It wouldn't surprise me at all if we found out that the FCC declared the game obscene, fined everyone involved and ordered FOX to make that move.

Jesus. There is little that can horrify me as a Lions fan anymore. I have seen the belly of the beast and it is awful. And yet, this game managed to do it. That is quite the accomplishment. The game only ended a couple of hours ago, and so I am sure the stench of this shit pile will start to fade. Maybe I will be slightly more positive as the week goes on, but for now, man . . . I just want to forget this bullshit and move on. It's just too damn bad that the bye week is next week. That means that Lions fans have to live with this, lingering, laughing at us, taunting us, for the next two weeks. When we think of the Lions during this time, we won't think of Matthew Stafford throwing rockets or St. Calvin loping away from some foolish mortal. Instead, we'll think of Daunte Culpepper playing like ass and Packer receivers running wild and the Lambeau Leap and OH GOD WHY??? It's a terrible thing. I just want to be happy about this team, and while most of my addled brain knows that good things are ahead and that the Lions are making real progress, that small, terrible part of my brain that runs wild with fear is screaming like a fucking banshee and that dude is a mean bastard.

It's not really his fault though. He has been so beat up and so traumatized through the years that it's easy to understand that he is like the retard in There's Something About Mary. Get your hands near his head and he goes fucking wild. Well, the Lions of 2009 looked a hell of a lot like the Lions of 2008 today and that mean bastard went fucking wild.

Get a grip, you son of a bitch. This is only a bump in the road, and you knew it was coming and now you are just talking to yourself and the nice people reading this are backing away from their computers, with fear in their eyes and dread in their hearts. OH LORD WHY???

It will all be okay. It is 2009 and there is a headbanging chess master running the show now. The man with the diaper is gone and so is the announcer. It is all in your mind. Today was strange, tomorrow will be better.

Not Yet

Yup, this is what happens to the Lions whenever they play in Green Bay.

The last time the Lions beat the Packers in Green Bay, I was still in elementary school. So, yeah, it's been a long time. I am a little older, a little wiser, and I probably swear slightly less than I did back then, and so I'm sure I will appreciate a win over the Packers in Green Bay now a hell of a lot more than I did then. The thing is, is that I just don't see that happening this year.

The Packers have struggled so far this season. They are 2-2, and Aaron Rodgers has gotten the shit beaten out of him. You remember what happened to Daunte Culpepper against the Steelers, right? Well, that shit has been happening to Rodgers every game. This has caused a few folks to be optimistic about the Lions chances this weekend, including my man Ty. But while I appreciate the optimism and the enthusiasm, I just can't quite get behind it.

All I have to do is picture that frozen hell known as Lambeau Field, and images of fat dudes with foam cheese on their heads and dudes flying into the stands rushes through my head while Todd Rundgren yelping about banging on the drum all day rings in my ears and I start to shiver and shake like a junkie. It's an awful thing. And then I remember all those game when Barry Sanders would end up with -2 yards rushing for the game while icicles formed on his ass and I begin to weep tears of blood and scream unholy gibberish that causes birds to fly away in mortal terror and the neighborhood pets to howl mournfully at the moon. You can understand the hesitance that I feel here.

The Lions have looked better this year. That is true. But we have to be both honest and realistic. To say they have looked better is the same as saying that a dude with severe brain damage looks better following a couple of months of physical therapy. Sure, that dude can smile like a goober with minimal drool while shuffling along an inch at a time with the help of a rail and a horde of concerned nurses, but you can't expect that sorry bastard to run the hundred yard dash while doing trigonometry and reciting Elizabethan poetry. It's a happy time, but there are still miles and miles to go before the horrors of the past become just another memory. Those ghosts of Lions' failures past are still hanging around, and one of the biggest of those is the specter of Lambeau Field and that son of a bitch isn't going to go down without a fight.

Matthew Stafford has looked good this season. The future for him is bright, especially since he has St. Calvin to throw to and Kevin Smith to run the ball. They are our own personal Ghostbusters. Stafford can even be Peter Venkman, making wise cracks and fucking Sigourney Weaver while he fights those terrible demon beasts. That might be a little weird since Sigourney Weaver is old enough to conceivably be his grandmother, but what the hell, these are strange times and all of our heroes are flawed. But the thing is, is that right now Peter Venkman is iffy ever since that one ghost haunted his kneecap and Ray Stanz keeps getting hurt and all that leaves is Egon and we all know that motherfucker isn't getting the job done all by himself. Maybe someone will step up like Winston and take some of the heat off of our boys, but it still won't be enough, especially when that terrible ghost that has beaten our asses whenever the Lions have made the trip across Lake Michigan is waiting on the horizon.

Okay, that was kind of a weird metaphor and it was getting so tortured that I'm pretty sure someone would have thrown the Geneva Convention in my face at any moment in order to put a stop to that shit, but I am an American and as we all know, that means I do not torture and so I will stop all that nonsense. The point is that winning at Lambeau is an extraordinarily difficult task for the Lions. It has been for years, and even though the Lions will break through eventually, it's probably not going to happen this year, no matter how badly we want it to. The conditions just aren't right for it.

Ah, but what about the Packers struggles this season? Don't their own problems leave them ripe for a loss here? Well, uh . . . no. Perhaps the Packers biggest issue this season has been pass protection, which I mentioned earlier. Their offensive line has been both terrible and decimated by injuries. Unfortunately for us, they get Chad Clifton back at left tackle this week, which will allow them to move Daryn Colledge back over to left guard and slide Jason Spitz back to center from left guard, giving them the offensive line that they wanted all along. Plus, Mark Tauscher looks like he's on the way back at right tackle, and even though he probably won't start against the Lions, there is a significant chance that the Packers offensive line will be worlds better than it has been all season long. Well, hooray for us.

Even if the offensive line isn't 100%, it's not like our defensive line has made itself a name by rushing the quarterback this season. The Lions aren't exactly the team to take advantage of an ailing offensive line, and that's even with a healthy Cliff Avril, who, among others on the line, is banged up. It's not really a favorable match up no matter how much we might want it to be.

The Packers haven't run the ball very effectively this season, but again, that's probably thanks in large part to the chaos on the offensive line. Ryan Grant is a decent back, capable of methodically moving his team down the field, and even though he's under four yards per carry for the season, I wouldn't be quick to condemn him. Again, the lack of any consistency or decency along the offensive line so far this season makes anything that has happened thus far almost meaningless. With the line finally healthy and ready to go, both Grant and Rodgers should see their numbers - and the Packers fortunes - improve throughout the rest of the season.

If Rodgers has enough time to throw - which I think he will for the first time this season - he has capable and dangerous targets ready and willing to abuse the Lions secondary. Greg Jennings has struggled along with the rest of the team this season, and Donald Driver seems like he is 168 years old, but - and I know I am driving this point into the ground - again, it all goes back to the offensive line. If they are healthy, it should create a sort of ripple effect which extends to the entire offense. Grant will be able to run the ball, which should keep some of the heat off of Rodgers, and combined with the likely much improved pass blocking, that should open up the passing game.

Rodgers is a very good quarterback, capable of putting up some big numbers, and Jennings and Driver are both terrific receivers. The Lions, meanwhile, are allowing opposing quarterbacks to complete a ridiculous 73.3% of their passes. So far this season, teams have averaged 3 touchdowns per game through the air against the Lions and have a passer rating of 119.7. That shit is just ridiculous. That means that every quarterback the Lions have faced, whether it was Brett Favre or Jason Campbell, has looked like they were dreaming of Canton. Rodgers is a 4,000 yard passer who can rack big numbers up in a hurry and what does all this point do? Say, where did I put that drain cleaner . . .

Offensively, I don't really know how to call this one. Both Stafford and St. Calvin are kind of toss-ups right now. If everyone plays then I think this game should at least be entertaining. The Lions can score if everybody is healthy and I think they will against the Packers. But everyone is not healthy, and if Culpepper plays and CJ sits on the sidelines, well, I just don't see the Lions being able to keep up with the Packers.

It's a long and torturous path we're on, this terrible road to redemption, but it's the only one left for us to take. We want to just be able to sprint down it, but that's hard when you have a million ghosts and demons hanging on your back and grabbing at your legs. Those bastards won't let go without a fight. This weekend, one of the most vile of those fuckers could be knocked out and left behind us. It would be a huge moment, worthy of much celebration. Unfortunately, I don't think now is the time for that particular demon to be exorcized. We will win a lot of little battles this year, and then next year we can start to confront the more vicious and terrible ghosts of our past with the strength that we have gained from those small victories. I would love it if we could somehow brutalize one of those shitheads right here and right now, but I just don't see it happening.

FIVE PREDICTIONS

1. Stafford starts and has a nice game, throwing for 260 yards and 2 touchdowns. He also throws an interception which is taken to the house by Charles Woodson.

2. Calvin Johnson doesn't play. Bryant Johnson has a decent game, catching 6 passes for 90 yards and a touchdown. After the game, St. Calvin mystifies a horde of reporters by reciting a monologue from Hamlet. There is a rush by many to claim that this is proof that St. Calvin is somehow depressed, a notion which is dispelled when it is revealed that he is actually the man who wrote all of Shakespeare's plays and he is just showing off. There will be much confusion as to how this all happened, until it is revealed that St. Calvin exists outside of the space time continuum and moves at will through the universe and it's various ages. One dumb reporter tries to compare it to Back to the Future, but St. Calvin verbally smacks him down, saying "Do I look like some geeky ass white boy on a skate board to you?" Someone else makes a Doc Brown crack, causing St. Calvin to say "The last time we had some white haired crazy motherfucker running shit here, y'all ran his ass out of town and then we went 0-16." The next day, Mike Martz buys himself a DeLorean. He spends a full day just sitting behind the wheel and weeping.

3. Kevin Smith runs the ball 25 times for 91 yards and a touchdown. He wears a patch on his uniform in support of Ernie Sims' monkey, who is still hiding from the authorities.

4. Aaron Rodgers throws for 350 yards and 4 touchdowns. He is only sacked once, and after the game he prank calls Brett Favre, who just smiles and admires his Wranglers because he is just havin' fun out there.

5. Ryan Grant is held somewhat in check. He goes for 80 yards on only 17 carries. He scores a touchdown. After the game it is revealed that St. Calvin, using his Godlike powers, has managed to put some sort of bizarre force field into play which causes opposing running games to falter. When asked why he doesn't just keep them from gaining any yards at all, St. Calvin grows exasperated, saying "What the fuck do you want from me? Have you seen the shitheads on our defensive line? There is only so much even I can do." One intrepid reporter keeps digging into the story until it is scandalously revealed that Calvin Johnson was the inspiration for Dr. Manhattan. When it is questioned how this is possible, St. Calvin just laughs and once again breaks out the "Lord, what fools these mortals be."

Hey, I Was Kinda Right About These

Hell yeah. We should see if Andrew Jackson will play cornerback for us. So what if he's dead? You can't keep a good man down. Although it is possible that he would only really get up for games against the Redskins.

For the most part, I think my predictions this week were actually pretty damn good. Either I am starting to get a pretty good feel for this team or I was just absurdly lucky. Yeah, I know, I know, it's obvious which of those is the real reason why I can't be laughed at this week - well, not as much anyway.

PREDICTION NUMERO UNO

WHAT I SAID: Daunte Culpepper starts and puts up decent numbers - at least on the surface. He goes 23-39 for 261 yards and two touchdowns. He also throws 3 picks, including a back breaker late in the third that is returned for a touchdown. How's that for specific?

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Culpepper was 23-37 for 282 yards with one touchdown and one interception. He was responsible for a couple of back breakers - the hilarious fumble, pick up the ball, throw an interception sequence and the tragic "hey there's a blitzer coming straight for me so I'll just hold onto the ball here and . . . whoops" sequence at the end of the game.

Okay, man that is kind of freaky. I was dead on about the completions, and almost dead on with the number of attempts. I was close about the yardage and although the touchdowns and interceptions were a little off, I feel like I called this one pretty perfectly. Culpepper had nice surface numbers, but anyone who watched the game and has a functioning brain stem(which unfortunately, doesn't seem to include a small chunk of the Lions fan base)knows that Culpepper's mistakes were cripplers that left the Lions with their heads hung low, wondering how they could have possibly come so close to knocking off the defending champions only to see their dreams lying battered and bruised, sacked to death by Dick LeBeau and his horde of angry Huns.

I am neither particularly happy nor sad that I called this one right. It is what it is, Culpepper is Culpepper and anyone who has paid attention to his career could have seen a game like this coming. What did it prove? Culpepper is a half-decent backup who could probably be successful against the Rams of the world but who is probably going to self combust at the worst possible time against any team with a functioning defense. With Culpepper it's all "Hey that was a nice play", "Alright, now we got something going", "Hey, maybe Culpepper really does get it now", "Whoops, never mind." It's the sequence that has governed his whole career. Someone should find a mathematical formula so that we can figure out exactly when these fuckups are going to happen. "Nah, man, he'll be fine this play, you've got to solve for X. You do that and you'll see that his pants are going to fall down and he will throw the ball backwards on the next play."

PREDICTION NUMERO DOS

WHAT I SAID: Kevin Smith runs for 70 yards on 20 carries. He fails to score and after the game he and Ernie Sims are busted in a morgue trying to steal shoulder parts from cadavers. They both escape and leave Sims' monkey to take the fall. The poor guy becomes a minor celebrity and is hustled out of the country into Windsor while out on bail. He receives a full pardon from President Obama and returns a conquering hero. At least until he shits in his hand and throws it at foreign dignitaries during a state dinner in his honor.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Smith ran for 53 yards on 20 carries. He also failed to score. I am a little freaked out by how close I have come with these first two predictions. I was slightly off on the yardage, but I nailed the number of carries exactly and I feel as if I completely nailed this prediction in spirit. The Lions tried to run with Smith with little success. As for what happened afterward, well, perhaps that is a story that just hasn't come out yet, although I have heard rumors that Sims' monkey is currently running from federal marshals, hiding out in safe houses run by PETA and claiming that a one armed orangutan is the real culprit. We can only hope this works out for the best.

PREDICTION NUMERO TRES

WHAT I SAID: Calvin Johnson catches 6 passes for 110 yards and a touchdown. After the game he quotes Shakespeare, sighing and saying "Lord, what fools these mortals be." He then floats up towards heaven on the wings of angels.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Awww, damn it all. St. Calvin only caught 1 pass for 2 yards, but there are extenuating circumstances here. He tweaked his knee early in the first quarter and spent the rest of the game on the sideline, generally looking miserable that he couldn't be in there. Saying I was wrong here would be complete bullshit and how dare you for thinking it. Still, I wasn't right, and I guess that is the way of things sometimes, neither right nor wrong, doomed to hang out unfulfilled in some fucked up limbo, weeping bitter tears and wondering if there will ever be any finality to any of this nonsense.

Still, we can only assume that St. Calvin's little knee issue has given him some time to catch up on his Shakespeare and perhaps he will bust out some raw ass quotes from Henry V or something next week. Again, we can only hope.

PREDICTION NUMERO CUATRO

WHAT I SAID: Ben Roethlisberger throws for 250 yards and 3 touchdowns. He is seen after the game laughing on the sideline with the Undertaker of WWE fame, who tombstone piledrives each member of the Lions defense after the game. The fans at Ford Field cheer him on.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Roethlisberger was 23-30 for 277 yards and 3 touchdowns. He also threw a pick six to William James, so I guess he was responsible for four touchdowns. Again, it is freaky as hell how close I am coming on some of these numbers. I figured Roethlisberger would have a relatively easy day that could have been much worse for the Lions, and that's pretty much what happened. He was able to toss the ball around against Detroit's shitty secondary pretty much all day and it is kind of surprising that his numbers weren't even better. After the game, Roethlisberger said he wasn't particularly happy with his performance and I sort of see where he was coming from. He was good but he wasn't great. Against a better team, the day might not have gone so well, but alas, the Lions are not that team.

Sadly, Roethlisberger did not pal around with the Undertaker after the game. It seems that in my vision of the future I thought it was the Undertaker, when in reality it was the grim reaper dragging Daunte Culpepper's corpse off of the field following the cascade of sacks at the end. My mistake. I turned the TV off before I could see if he gave him a tombstone piledriver but we will just assume that it happened and move on.

PREDICTION NUMERO CINCO

WHAT I SAID: The Steelers actually struggle to run the ball. Mendenhall manages a few bursts here and there, but the Lions again mostly contain the opponent's best back. After the game, Gunther Cunningham hits the Undertaker with a steel chair. The Undertaker shrugs it off and choke slams him while the camera fades to black. In the studio, the analysts are stunned and speechless, and quickly turn the discussion towards the new film project starring Ford the Elder and Al Davis. Dan Marino calls it the feel good hit of next summer. Shannon Sharpe calls him an idiot and then gallops away. Boomer Esiason calls them both damn fools, looks disgusted and makes a crack at Marino's expense that Marino tries gamely to laugh off. The sexual tension between the two is extraordinary and it makes James Brown uncomfortable. He can be seen loosening his tie while Bill Cowher juts his jaw out and daydreams about Dan Snyder giving him bags full of money to coach the Redskins. It is a debacle that causes CBS to rethink their team, and fans are horrified when, a week later, Matt Millen is the primary analyst who narrates every highlight while his co-host, Wayne Fontes, slurps spaghetti in the background. CBS is taken off the air the following week and President Obama vows "Never again." Ernie Sims' monkey is named the new chairman of the FCC and a golden age of quality broadcasting ensues.

WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED: Mendenhall ran for 77 yards on 15 carries and added a touchdown. Again, I feel like I did a pretty good job calling this one. The Steelers never really established a rhythm on the ground. There was never a point where it felt like they were just cramming the ball down the Lions throats and, really, much of Mendenhall's yardage came on a few bursts here and there. It felt sort of similar to the job they did on Adrian Peterson a few weeks ago. I am actually feeling pretty good about the Lions run defense. One big caveat: it's possible that teams aren't even bothering to establish the run because they know they can just throw all over the Lions all day long. Still, it is a huge step up from last year when teams not only threw all over the Lions all day long, but ran all over them too. Oh God, the flashbacks are starting, the hideous flashbacks. Quick, someone get a baseball bat, a package of triple A batteries and a box full of whippets. Don't ask what they are for, just go, now, before it's too late!

I didn't stick around to see the post game, but I will assume that all of the above did indeed happen. I still haven't heard anything about Sims' monkey being named chairman of the FCC but these things take time, and besides, there is that whole mess with Tommy Lee Jones chasing him across the country that needs to be resolved before any of that can happen. Oh well, vaya con dios, monkey. Vaya con dios.

Random Gibberish

I don't know why, but this picture made me wonder why Ernie Sims doesn't have a pet lion. I don't know, maybe after a hard day's work, the last thing Ernie wants is to be reminded of his association with the Lions. It's a sad thought, and . . . aw hell, I am depressed now.

As usual, there was a bunch of dumb bullshit that happened on Sunday that I wanted to mention but, for whatever reason, didn't in my initial post following the game.

WELL, THAT CERTAINLY WAS EMBARRASSING

This has nothing to do with the final score, the fact that the Lions lost, or anything that mundane. I mean, an 8 point loss at this point is hardly cause for embarrassment or great shame or anything like that. It would be like a kid who is renowned for shitting his pants in the middle of class just mildly pissing himself. It's still sad and pathetic and the end result is still him changing his drawers while everyone laughs at him, but hell, at least he didn't shit himself again.

Anyway, I apologize for that. That is nasty as hell and I don't know what caused me to head down that particular path, and so we'll just move on. Cool? Alright. What was really embarrassing was having Ford Field turned into an indoor version of Heinz Field. It was shameful as hell to hear the fans cheer whenever the Steelers did something right, and boo whenever a call went Detroit's way. I mean, what the fuck? Every time they showed a crowd shot there would be a bunch of degenerates from Pittsburgh, standing up and waving those infernal towels while a smattering of fearful dudes in blue jerseys huddled inside that mass of freaks. A terrible thing, just awful, and as Lions fans we should all be ashamed of ourselves for allowing that shit to happen. I haven't been to a game in a while, mostly because it is expensive as hell and because it is three hours away from where I am now. You bet your ass that is an excuse, and I know everyone has them, but Goddamn, our collective NAH NOT THIS WEEK attitude allowed those beasts to scurry over from western Pennsylvania with evil in their eyes and hatred in their hearts and overwhelm Ford Field. Okay, okay, maybe they were all good, nice folks, but fuck that, I will demonize the shit out of them both for morale and entertainment purposes.

They were like a bunch of Huns storming the western world. Sure, Rome isn't so grand anymore, but fuck, it's still Rome and we should at least be able to keep those degenerate barbarians at the gates. I have no idea what I'm babbling about here either, but I guess we're pretending that Detroit is somehow Rome. I am perilously close to extending this to even weirder places and suggesting that somehow, say, Cleveland is Constantinople, which would make a little more sense given the long standing history of bad blood between Pittsburgh and Cleveland, just like the Huns and the Eastern Roman Empire, but then again Cleveland doesn't exactly scream wealth and opulence either, and well . . . holy shit, I'm . . . I'm sorry, this has gotten entirely too nerdy and ridiculous and what the fuck were we even talking about before this gibberish began?

Oh, that's right, the Steelers fans invading Ford Field. Anyway, I was saddened to hear that there were no brawls incited by pissed off Lions fans but I suppose people are civilized these days and look down on that sort of nonsense. But this is how people are conquered, when they go soft, and, well, soon enough, Western Rome will fall and then it's several hundred years of darkness before Matthew Charlemagne Stafford picks up the pieces. I apologize for this whole weird and infernal string of ridiculous words.

WELL, WE MAY HAVE BEEN GROSSLY OUTPLAYED, BUT . . . WAIT A MINUTE, WERE WE?

The Lions lost, and for most of the game, it looked like the Steelers were on the verge of running away and hiding. But a look at the final numbers kind of tells a different story. Pittsburgh only outgained the Lions by 9 yards, 344-335. The Lions miraculously ended up with more rushing yards, 110-82, had more first downs, 21-18, had a much better third down conversion percentage, 61.1% to the Steelers' 37.5%, and held the ball for five more minutes than Pittsburgh. According to all of those, the Lions basically went toe to toe with the Steelers and almost came out on top. Well, holy shit.

Looking back, what swung this game in Pittsburgh's favor were the crucial mistakes. Sure, each team only had one turnover, both horrible interceptions - Culpepper's Yakety Sax moment that ended with Ryan Clark holding the ball and Roethlisberger's pick six to William James - but what's not shown in those numbers were all the times that Culpepper flat out dropped the ball on the ground, short circuiting drives, or took shitty sacks in key moments. Everyone remembers the three on the last drive, but, man, that shit was there all game long. Which kind of leads me into the next topic.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

There seems to be a push by the retarded section of our fanbase to turn the team over to Culpepper because the Lions managed to not get completely smoked by the Steelers. I mean, come on, really? What the fuck? This is almost too stupid to discuss. First of all, how in the hell would this help the Lions for the future? You bench Stafford so, that, what, Culpepper could start the rest of the season and lead the Lions to a sparkling 5-11 record? Fuck right on off with that ridiculous bullshit. I mean, JESUS. I barely even know how to approach this whole thing it is so dumb. Are these people seriously suggesting that because the Lions LOST a game in which Culpepper started that they should bench the NUMBER ONE DRAFT PICK WHO THE LIONS MUST PAY ROUGHLY ELEVENTY BILLION DOLLARS? And furthermore, the number one draft pick who has, you know, actually looked pretty fucking good as a 21 year old rookie playing for a team that went 0-16 last season? Excuse me while I drink this bottle of bleach so that my vocal chords burn up and I can't scream at anyone about this.

Okay, anyway, this is dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb as fuck. HEY, LET'S START CULPEPPER THE REST OF THE YEAR. TO HELL WITH MATTHEW STAFFORD, DAUNTE THE GREAT LED A TEAM TO AN 8-8 RECORD FIVE YEARS AGO AND SURE HIS MISTAKES WERE THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WINNING AND LOSING TO THE STEELERS BUT WHAT THE HELL . . . I can no longer discuss this rationally. It has become far too stupid. I mean, are you fucking kidding me? Ugggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh.

That is me drowning in the sea of retarded shit water which has overtaken this topic. I am both annoyed by the fact that this is a viewpoint that actually exists and because the extreme idiocy of it all has caused me to descend into this stupid world of all caps ranting and raving. It is the blog equivalent of shitty talk radio. I'm pretty sure someone is going to show up here any moment and start playing zoo animal sound effects. Good Lord.

Well, this post certainly put the gibberish in Random Gibberish, and I descended into ape like grunts and shit flinging, but I am a Lions fan, and these things happen. I would apologize for the whole damn thing, but well, we all know it will happen again. Oh well, c'est la vie I suppose, and, as always, vaya con dios my friends. See, I am classy, this post is tri-lingual.

Hope in a Hopeless World

I can't tell whether this guy looks noble or retarded. Which, I suppose, is fitting.

I was all ready to watch the Lions get the shit stomped out of them by the Steelers. And, perhaps surprisingly, I was kind of okay with that. At least it would be over with, quickly and brutally and then we could all get on with our lives. A 45-10 route where Daunte Culpepper played like ass and everyone just sort of ducked and covered and then regrouped the following week would have been tolerable. Look, I know that is some ridiculous shit, but you learn to calibrate your expectations appropriately as a Lions fan. If you don't, you will just end up in the fetal position, naked and afraid, growling at anyone dumb enough to try to help you. Either that, or you will be found staggering naked through traffic, snarling like some mad beast at frightened motorists who just want to get home to their families. Don't ask me why people are always naked in these fucked up scenarios, it is a strange world and these things happen.

Anyway, there is a sort of strange serenity that comes with the acceptance that your team is going to be beaten and skullfucked. That's a terrible image, brutal and cruel, but these are the realities of being a fan of the Detroit Lions and we have come this far, there's no use turning away from the ugliness of it all now. You get used to it or your brain withers and dies underneath the harsh light of failure. It's a survival instinct.

But that all went out the window as soon as Calvin Johnson started limping around, apparently tweaking the knee of the same leg that was banged up last weekend. As soon as that happened, the fantasy of a quick and painless death was exposed as the dumb and foolish hope of the weak and the sad. Yes, I count myself in that group because I wrote this game off because of all of the above gibberish, foolishly thinking that I could just act like this was some meaningless bullshit that wouldn't mean anything for the rest of the season. After all, Matthew Stafford wasn't going to play, the Lions aren't going anywhere, the Steelers are the defending champs, and the future can be put on hold for a week. Those were my thoughts and they were dumb and without merit.

Something had to happen. Something always happens. Unfortunately, that something was our gamebreaker, our superstar, limping off the field with a knee injury and not returning. The good news, I suppose, is that along with Stafford, St. Calvin spent the rest of the game standing, so it must not be all that serious, but still, man, you never want to see your best player standing there with his helmet off for the entirety of the game, a grim and terrible scowl on his face.

It was bad medicine, and I hated taking it, but maybe I needed to. It just slammed home, brutally, that I had no choice but to care. I could tell myself that it was alright, that they were just going to lose and so no one needed to get all worked up about it, but man, real fandom doesn't let you off the hook so easily.

And then the Lions proceeded to both hang in the game and play like shit. It was an astounding dichotomy. The Steelers could never quite pull away despite Daunte Culpepper being, well, Daunte Culpepper. The most ridiculous moment was when Culpepper fumbled after faking the handoff, saw that no one else was around, managed to pick up the ball, saw the rushers coming, thought OH SHIT, and then chucked up a terrible pass to no one in particular that Ryan Clark intercepted for the Steelers. It was almost awe inspiring, really, the sheer ineptitude of the whole sequence. It was pure Culpepper, just one long brain explosion that left me shaking my head, jaw on the floor, both sad and amused at the same time. I hated it, but at the same time I had to appreciate how brutally funny in a very mean way the whole sequence happened to be.

I figured that was it and for a few minutes I tried to mute my disgust by flipping over to some bullshit on the History Channel about bike gangs. After hearing some impressive stories about cold killing dudes and group sex, I headed on back to the game, once again safe in the knowledge that the Steelers were going to run away with the game and just get this brutal execution over with. But, down 28-13, hanging by a thread, the Lions just wouldn't go away. It was inspiring really, to see this gang of half dead cripples struggle along, crawling on their bellies, rabidly gnawing on the ankles of the Steelers, keeping them from running away. Inspiring and a little sad all at the same time, but fuck it, I was proud of these dudes.

And then, somehow, Culpepper led the Lions down the field, threw a touchdown strike to Dennis Northcutt, and after the extra point made it 28-20 with 5 minutes left, I began to feel, what's that word? Ah yes, hopeful. I couldn't believe that these dudes were still in the game. Culpepper had been Culpepper, Kevin Smith couldn't run the ball and St. Calvin had been martyred. It was a terrible confluence of events and, yet, there they were, down by one score to the defending champs. If they stopped them on the ensuing series, they would actually have a chance of forcing overtime. How the fuck did that happen? I still don't know, but I wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth. I figured if I did that he would just bite my head clean off and then a million tiny Greeks would come pouring out and burn and pillage everything dear to me. And so I decided I would just sit back and enjoy the ride.

Somehow, some way, the Lions actually stopped the Steelers on the next series even though Rashard Mendenhall ran for nine yards on first down. Holy shit, this was really happening. Fuck you, gift horse and all your tiny Greeks. It didn't matter how it happened, or why it was there, just that it did and it was. Now all we had to do was take advantage of this miraculous opportunity. It was then that Derrick Williams rose from the grave and snared a couple of tough catches, and it was then that Daunte Culpepper decided to make some plays for the first time in five years. Were we really down to the Pittsburgh 20 with over a minute left to play? Holy shit, we were! GO YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARDS, I BELIEVE, I BELIEVE!!!

And then Dick Lebeau laughed out loud, Lamarr Woodley said no you don't and Daunte Culpepper was swarmed by all those little Greeks as they poured out of that gift horse and sacked Troy, Ford Field, and Culpepper. It was a terrible moment. Three straight blitzes, three straight sacks, and as Culpepper stepped up to throw a Hail Mary on 4th and 168, it was already over. He and the Lions, for a brief moment, flew high, soared with the eagles, and then when they got too close to the sun, their wax wings melted and they plunged back to Earth, horribly and cruelly. And all that was left for idiots like me to do was to sift through the wreckage.

It was a strange game, a whirlwind of emotions both jaded and naive, of hopes and thoughts both stupid and wonderful. It has almost no bearing on the future. Culpepper is Culpepper and with him in the game it felt like this whole strange new journey into the land of joy and happiness was put in a holding pattern. But even though it didn't feel like it mattered in the larger sense, it mattered in the moment, and sometimes it feels like that's the essence of sports fandom. The moment. It's all that really means anything. Yesterday is gone, just a memory, either good or bad, and tomorrow doesn't exist. Not yet anyway.

The Lions lost, and they lost in a way that was both more noble and more painful than if they had just been blown out. They played hard, they played tough, and for once this season, they played better in the second half than they did in the first. I hope that's a good sign. It may have just been a strange fluke. Maybe the Steelers really aren't the Steelers that everyone sees in their head. But it felt like we were at least in the same building as them, and no matter how many times they tried to throw us out and no matter how many times our dudes were beaten and left for dead, enough of our dudes got back up and swung back, and even though they ended up beaten and bloody, outside of the building while the Steelers celebrated within, they knew that at least they landed a couple of punches, and that at the end of the day they could be proud of the bruises and the broken bones because they actually earned them. They didn't just curl up and lie there, whimpering while the Steelers beat the shit out of them with pool cues, which is what they have done so many times in the past. They tried, and for now, that's enough. The future wasn't on display, but so what? The future is the future, but today is today, and today, the Lions fought back.

This One Will Probably Be Ugly

I can't tell whether this dude is yawning or roaring. Perhaps he started out roaring, got bored and yawned halfway through. Who knows?

Before I get this nonsense going, I figured I would get in a little plug for heavy.com, who in their infinite wisdom, or perhaps foolishness, are paying me to write shit for them. If you click on the tag labeled comedy, it will open up a vast wonderland of laughter that will leave you breathless and vomiting onto the floor. You will shit your pants with the uncontrolled fury of he who has been taken hostage by the pleasure center of his brain. Look around, and you will find some shit written by dear old me - you know, the usual gibberish about Bigfoot, drunkenness and scandalous football stars. Check it out, there is always some funny stuff there from a whole host of funny people. While you're there, you might as well check out the other sections too. There's a sports tag, where you can find some good stuff by some good writers, particularly a certain Mr. Shields and a certain Mr. Snowden. There's a music section with some good stuff in it, a movie section that breaks down the news from the silver screen, a game section for all you nerds, and even a style section, because in these troubled times, it's important to look better than your degenerate neighbor. Okay, plug over, back to the usual bullshit.

Now that I have given heavy.com an extra four readers, I can sleep easy. At least until I remember that the Lions are playing the Steelers this weekend. You know the Steelers, right? The defending Super Bowl champs with the ferocious defense whose prime directive is to kill the quarterback and anyone else unlucky or foolish enough to find themselves with the ball in their hands? Yeah, those guys.

The good news is that the Steelers haven't exactly looked like the Steelers so far this season. They're a middling 2-2 and their vaunted defense hasn't exactly been ripping heads off and shitting down throats. At least not to the extent that they did last season. So, uh, that's good I guess. A big part of this is because Troy Polamalu has been injured, meaning that the Steelers have lost the lynchpin of their secondary and a dude who acts like an extra linebacker in the run game. That's a tough piece to lose. Then again, they still have James Harrison, the reigning defensive player of the year, along with Lamarr Woodley, and they have defensive coordinator Dick Lebeau, whose schemes mixed with that talent make it highly likely that whoever starts at quarterback for the Lions will end up being beaten like a POW in a tiger cage.

Of course, we don't exactly know who will be starting at quarterback for the Lions because Matthew Stafford's knee cap senselessly betrayed him during his hour of need. Stafford hasn't practiced this week and the closer we get to the game, the more it seems like Jim Schwartz might just pat him on the back, hand him a visor and a clipboard and tell him to get ready for next week. Which means we get to re-experience the Daunte Culpepper era in all it's non-glory.

Fortunately for the Lions, everyone else is healthy, and . . . oh shit, what? Oh, I see. It seems that no one is healthy and everyone is day to day, so who the fuck knows who is going to play? This, uh . . . well, this does not seem to be a good sign. Everyone is banged up and even if everyone plays, no one is going to be a hundred percent. This is a thing that sucks.

Meanwhile, the Steelers have been forced to rely upon Ben Roethlisberger for the bulk of their offense. That's because Willie Parker got old and hurt in a hurry and . . . oh, wait, what? My mistake again. It seems that Rashard Mendenhall had a breakout game last weekend against San Diego, rushing for over 150 yards. Well, that's just super.

The only thing the Lions seem to have going for them is that this game is in Detroit, so, huzzah for home field advantage and all that. Look, any way you break this game down it doesn't look good for the Lions. And with Stafford likely out, there isn't even a chance to catch glimpses of the future. Instead, this one seems like it's going to be a trip in the DeLorean with that old degenerate Doc Brown back to the bad old days. Hopefully, after the game everyone remains calm and no talk radio beasts grab their pitchforks and start braying like jackasses about the same old Lions. This game is the perfect storm of suck, and the Lions are going to lose. They just are. It's not really fair or right to use this one as a barometer for anything. Let's just get it over with and try to escape with at least a shred of our dignity.

FIVE LIKELY TERRIBLE PREDICTIONS

1. Daunte Culpepper starts and puts up decent numbers - at least on the surface. He goes 23-39 for 261 yards and two touchdowns. He also throws 3 picks, including a back breaker late in the third that is returned for a touchdown. How's that for specific?

2. Kevin Smith runs for 70 yards on 20 carries. He fails to score and after the game he and Ernie Sims are busted in a morgue trying to steal shoulder parts from cadavers. They both escape and leave Sims' monkey to take the fall. The poor guy becomes a minor celebrity and is hustled out of the country into Windsor while out on bail. He receives a full pardon from President Obama and returns a conquering hero. At least until he shits in his hand and throws it at foreign dignitaries during a state dinner in his honor.

3. Calvin Johnson catches 6 passes for 110 yards and a touchdown. After the game he quotes Shakespeare, sighing and saying "Lord, what fools these mortals be." He then floats up towards heaven on the wings of angels.

4. Ben Roethlisberger throws for 250 yards and 3 touchdowns. He is seen after the game laughing on the sideline with the Undertaker of WWE fame, who tombstone piledrives each member of the Lions defense after the game. The fans at Ford Field cheer him on.

5. The Steelers actually struggle to run the ball. Mendenhall manages a few bursts here and there, but the Lions again mostly contain the opponent's best back. After the game, Gunther Cunningham hits the Undertaker with a steel chair. The Undertaker shrugs it off and choke slams him while the camera fades to black. In the studio, the analysts are stunned and speechless, and quickly turn the discussion towards the new film project starring Ford the Elder and Al Davis. Dan Marino calls it the feel good hit of next summer. Shannon Sharpe calls him an idiot and then gallops away. Boomer Esiason calls them both damn fools, looks disgusted and makes a crack at Marino's expense that Marino tries gamely to laugh off. The sexual tension between the two is extraordinary and it makes James Brown uncomfortable. He can be seen loosening his tie while Bill Cowher juts his jaw out and daydreams about Dan Snyder giving him bags full of money to coach the Redskins. It is a debacle that causes CBS to rethink their team, and fans are horrified when, a week later, Matt Millen is the primary analyst who narrates every highlight while his co-host, Wayne Fontes, slurps spaghetti in the background. CBS is taken off the air the following week and President Obama vows "Never again." Ernie Sims' monkey is named the new chairman of the FCC and a golden age of quality broadcasting ensues.

PREDICTED FINAL SCORE: Steelers 38, Lions 21