Sunday, December 19, 2021

Gambling With Sanity The Great Willie Young Edition


*lightning strikes*


*lightning strikes*


*a man rises from the street, steam all around him, he is naked*



A teen looks up from his phone, his fingers trembling, whether from the shock and awe he was just witness to or from the adrenaline dump after he got to touch a titty for the first time, I cannot say. The boy, who looks however you want him to look, clears his throat…


“Are… are you a… Terminator?”


The man, now risen, shakes his head. “No, man, I’m The Great Willie Young. I just jumped out the window when my girl’s husband came home, and since I was out here, I figured I would just take a shit in the street. And then this thunderstorm started up.”


“You nasty,” the teen says.


“Nasty Bonerz Incorporated, and don’t you forget it.”


Anyway, I kick the kid aside, and tell him to go home before his mom is ravaged by whatever football team is rolling through town. “Willie!”


“Aw shit, what now man?”


“Neil from the Internet needs you in this dark hour.”


“Neil? That motherfucker that tried to steal my likeness and create a ridiculous character out of it? That Neil?”




“I’m just playin’. Neil and I are good, Neil and I are one.”


“Uh, sure, okay, anyway, he says he needs you to untangle this crazy 2021 season and maybe even save the world?”


“Again? Shit, that’s all I do in between fishing trips. But did you say 2021? I thought I was coming to 2011, when everything was rollin’, got my team by my back, young quarterback looking good. I’ll have to take Matty fishing.”


“Good times, but Willie, a lot has changed in the last ten years.”


“Like what? My brother, Barry O might be a little too tight with the corporations and shit, but surely, he’s just handed things down to the next generation, just like I had to do when I got the fuck out of Egypt after sonning that Pharoah motherfucker, I just gave it all to Moses and Aaron and I hope it turned out well for them people.”




“But shit, fill me in, I thought I was supposed to be in San Diego to witness the Chargers trying to beat those Chiefs, but for some reason here I am in Los Angeles, which is always a fucking wild time…”


“Yeah, the Chargers play in LA now.”


“What? Shut the fuck up.”


“Yeah, they play in LA even though no one cares about them.”


“Well shit, that’s probably why they gonna lose, huh?”


“Yeah, they lost to the Chiefs.”


The Great Willie Young just shakes his head, as if it is just one more piece of bullshit that he doesn’t want anything to do with. I throw him some pants and a shirt.


“Mothefucker, I’ll wear the pants only because I don’t want you getting scared of the python. Ol’ Heinie hooked me up with a real live witch in New Orleans and that witch had a big python, and the only way to get with her and get her powers was to beat the snake with my own, and well, sure enough…”




“But I ain’t gonna wear a shirt. Shirts are oppressive, keep us all under cover. Fuck that shit.”


“Fair enough,” I say as The Great Willie Young gets them pants on. “Willie…”


“Hush, boy, I got to figure out what I’m doing here in 2021 and not 2011. Barry O hopefully opened some doors for the fellas who look like me.”


“Well, uh… Trump, and…”


“What the fuck??? You dumb motherfuckers went and got that honky asshole made President? Shit, now I know why I’m here. We gotta a lot of cleaning up to do.”




“Shut the fuck up, narrator boy, Neil from the Internet couldn’t even show up himself for this shit.”


“Well, I mean he isn’t able to walk right now, his legs have been taken by the syrup”


The Great Willie Young laughs. “Shit, that does sound like Neil.”

I put on my mask, and give Willie one too.


“What the fuck? This some Halloween shit?”


After explaining COVID and Trump to The Great Willie Young, all he can do is close his eyes and nod softly. When he opens them, he looks at me and says I am a poor version of Heinie, and who the fuck knows where Wu Pei and his daughters are, and that he isn’t about to pay no time traveling child support. And then he sighs and yells FUCK. Just once, but it is enough, and asks where we should start.




“We missed New England…”


“Fucking Neil…”




“How about Carolina (+12) at Buffalo”


The Great Willie Young looks taken aback. “Them motherfuckin’ Bills are favored by 12 points?”




“Fuck all this bullshit, I will handle it all myself.


(the following was recovered from the phone of the minion Neil sent to meet with The Great Willie Young. The minion has not been found, but he has no family or friends, which is why Neil chose him, so, fuck it, I guess.)



The Great Willie Young appeared in downtown Buffalo, amidst yet another snow storm, and was soon greeted by the Bills Council of Elders: OJ Simpson, Jim Kelly’s skeleton, Thurman Thomas’ missing helmet, and a new face, Josh Allen. The Great Willie Young sized Allen up, and then told him to quit fucking around because 7-6 is not worth a damn thing and that if he didn’t get his shit together and going in the right direction, he might as well be caddying OJ here around looking for the real killers. OJ laughed at that, but The Great Willie Young slapped him and simply said “I know.” And OJ melted into a puddle of scum.


Pick: Bills



Arizona (-12.5) at Detroit


The Great Willie Young wept. He just wept. Sobbed, even.


Pick: Cardinals



NY Jets (+9.5) at Miami


The Great Willie Young was fishing off the Florida keys when he got noise of a cocaine boat comin’ through. The Great Willie Young kept his line in the water, but drove his boat to intercept the coke coming into Miami. He muttered something about a “souvenir” for Neil, and then laughed when he reached the boat and it was just filled with bottles of Don Shula’s old cum. “That tricky motherfucker,” The Great Willie Young said. Meanwhile, a squadron of fighter jets, probably assing off from Gitmo thundered over the sea and The Great Willie Young laughed and just said “They ain’t gonna make it past the Bermuda Triangle. Shit, I might want to get back there and fuck Amelia Earheart again.”


Pick: Miami



Dallas (-11.5) at NY Giants


Jerry Jones was taking his morning shit while getting a blowjob from the undocumented Latina he plucked off the line when the door to the bathroom exploded open, revealing The Great Willie Young. The girl screamed and then bit off Jerry’s dick. She ran away as The Great Willie Young laughed. “Well shit, Jerry, I was coming to do just about the same thing, minus the sucking of course, but that girl did my job for me.” The two locked eyes, The Great Willie Young’s proud and powerful, unflinching, Jerry’s watery and fidgety. 


“I can always buy a new dick, Willie, and my Cowboys are gonna keep on winning, so why don’t you just get the fuck out of here and let me shit in peace? Alma? Daddy needs a new dick!)


The Great Willie Young sighed, nodded his head and then laughed, because he knows the future, and he has seen what awaits Jerry Jones and his vile Cowboys.


“What you laughin’ at, boy?”


“I just know how this all ends, Jerry. And if you call me ‘boy’ again, I will send Heinie up here to shove one of them bottles straight up that dusty old ass.”



Pick: Cowboys



Tennessee (+1.5) at Pittsburgh


The Great Willie Young walked with the “man”


“Why it gotta be rape, Ben? Shit.”


The rapist had no answers and so The Great Willie Young reached over and pulled his head off. The rapist’s torso wriggled to the ground and The Great Willie Young tossed the head to some dogs that had been following them. He said some shit about not wanting anything to do with them racist motherfuckers in Tennessee, but shit, at least their quarterback isn’t a headless rapist.


Pick: Tennessee



Houston (+4.5) at Jacksonville


Urban Meyer sighed as he stuffed the rest of his shit into boxes. Damn team, bunch of quitters. His coaches? Peewee men. Yeah, he kicked that kicker, but he had to show everyone who the man was. But now it had come to this, cleaning out his office, yelling violently after figuring out that Tony Khan had stolen all his cocaine. And then he smiled, that shit eatin’ smile. Florida, Ohio St., fuck, he could probably get Notre Dame to suck his balls if he wanted. Everything was gonna be alright. Wife’s a freak, but shit, all the better to get them coeds to…


*a door opens*


Urban: “Hey, who’s there?”


And it is then that The Great Willie Young enters the room, face that of a solemn Spirit Warrior, body of a War God.


“I think I’ll use your liver for big shark bait. Let’s go fishin’, Urban.”



Pick: Houston



Cincinnati (+3) at Denver


The Great Willie Young exhales after climbing the highest of the Rockies bare foot and bare handed. He slings a duffel bag down, throws it onto the peak.


“You can see the whole world from up here, motherfucker.”


*grumbling from the duffel bag*


“Lots of trees, big sky, a whole world just waiting.”


*grumbling from duffel bag*


The Great Willie Young kneels down and unzips the duffel bag to reveal Joe Mixon inside.


“Well, Joe, you sure did like knocking the shit out of them girls, probably scrambled a few brains there.”




“Save that shit for God, son.”


And with that, The Great Willie Young kicked the duffel bag down the mountain side.



Pick: Denver




Atlanta (+9.5) at San Francisco


The Great Willie Young looks around, confused. “Where Harbaugh at?”


After a brief conversation, The Great Willie Young tells Jed York he is dumber than Heinie’s 14th child, the one born with no ears or mouth. Heinie swore Mrs. Heinie hadn’t been drinking, but Heinie is gonna Heinie…


The Great Willie Young spots Matt Ryan.


“Shit, Matty Ice, you still alive?”


Matt Ryan looked up and then ran for his life, never to be seen again.


“Well shit…”


Pick: 49ers



Green Bay (-7) at Baltimore



Hours of footage show The Great Willie Young wrestling with The Devil (he renewed his sponsorship), just an epic clash, like Godzilla vs Kong, and I wish I could show it all to you, but I’m afraid that might have to be a feature exhibit all its own.


What I can tell you is that The Devil was a bloody fucking mess, and a Harbaugh showed up to yell at it.


Pick: Baltimore


New Orleans (+11.5) at Tampa Bay


From across the sands on the Tampa beach, The Great Willie Young locks eyes with Tom Brady. The moment, of course, is so intense that it could spawn multiple galaxies, just like the ones spawning in your minds right now, and with a nod, they know each other, respect each other. But they are not friends, and one day, there will be a battle so terrible, so violent, that the end of the world will be at hand, crushed between The Great Willie Young and Tom Brady.


Pick: Tampa Bay


Las Vegas at Cleveland (no line?)



The Great Willie Young told you motherfuckers what goes on in the desert in that Ten Commandments homage,er, I mean the Bible.


The Great Willie Young knocks on the door, once, twice, and then it is opened by Baker Mayfield.


“Oh God, I’m so sorry, please tell my mama I love her,” he wails as he stands before The Great Willie Young.


“Calm down, motherfucker, it ain’t like that. Not now, anyway, we’ll see how it goes, but for now, I’m gonna have to take you on a fishing trip with a good buddy of mine. His name is Kenny, and yeah, he might look like a ghost, but he’s still realer than any of these assholes you got around you, especially those no good motherfuckers coming over from Las Vegas. You don’t need that shit. Take the week off. Let’s go fishing, and let’s pick up a 24 or maybe two of that Natty Lite or else Kenny gonna get the ghost shakes.”



Pick: There’s no line, what the fuck am I supposed to tell you?




Minnesota (-6) at Chicago


The Great Willie Young seems to remember some good times in Chicago, even if they weren’t the team of his heart. He keeps talking about Fake Christians and how those motherfuckers are gonna be left throwing money at the devil while he and Jesus chill on a nice fishing boat with the boys. Them fake Christians, he says, are gonna have their time in the sun. I mean, the Bears here ain’t got no coach. I asked The Great Willie Young what he wanted to do?


“Get fucked up and go hang with TOM in his barn?”


“Sounds good.”


Pick: Vikings



Seattle at LA Rams (no line again?)


The Great Willie Young says he wants to find Matty and hang out for a while, but there’s some weird shit going on. Everyone is in those Halloween masks. It’s 2021 in Los Angeles, we’re at a party in the hills. You can hear the coyotes yelling in the streets. Everyone is wearing masks, but this is LA, when aren’t they?


I follow The Great Willie Young as best I can as he looks for Matty, but everybody starts to look the same out here, and pretty soon I am hyperventilating and it is then that Bob Ross from PBS is offering me a line of coke and also asks if it’s okay if he sucks my dick.


Things get tricky and sticky again, but I finally find The Great Willie Young. He still hasn’t found Matty.


“Maybe he’s not here?”


“He’s here,” The Great Willie Young says. He’s just not dumb enough to be caught out like this…”


And with that, The Great Willie Young throws open a bedroom door to find Russell Wilson chained to a bed, getting whipped by Ciara while Pete Carroll jacks off in the corner.


“Neil better be paying us well for this shit.”


“But no one is paying Neil…”


“Then why the fuck are any of us doing this shit?”




“Oh, fuck off with that shit.”













Monday, December 6, 2021

And Then There Was Fire


The Lions have lost this season in a myriad of brutal tortures, left dumbfounded after a 98 yard field goal or two or three or whatever the universe decides is the best punishment for whatever the fuck we did. They have watched, hang dog ruined, as the Bears ate up the last eight minutes of the Thanksgiving game, just to kick a measly field goal that humiliated and shamed Dan Campbell, who is a Spirit Warrior at heart, but who struggles with the advanced arithmetic.


The Lions, despite their cruel record, have not been nearly as bad as it seems. Sure, their quarterback is still recovering from a headfucking done to him in Los Angeles, and the Lions aren’t exactly the team to get healthy with in that respect, but he is still a number one overall pick with a ridiculously hot model girlfriend, which tells you that he can deliver on some level, and while that level is still being searched for, at least it is there, and if we can somehow find it together, it will be a hell of a lot less to worry about going forward.


The Lions have no-name receivers, kids really, who are stepping up. Amon-Ra St. Brown, and my god what a name and I am ashamed I have not profiled this earlier or at all, emerged as a potential top receiver, and every week that goes by, despite the ridiculous losses, there is someone new who emerges, who plays hard, better, faster, than we thought he could, and that all reflects well on Dan Campbell, and also allows us to focus on gathering talent regardless of position without having to chase needs, which is the quickest way to the NFL outhouse.


Penne Sewell, our rookie diamond, has turned himself into one of the best tackles in the league already after some shakiness early on. Get the line squared away, and we’re in business. Get Frank Ragnow back healthy next year, and that line is legit.


Defensively, young dudes are doing all they can to make an impact, but this is where the growth has to come from season to season if this thing is going to work. I think it can, as long as Campbell knows his role as firebrand Spirit Warrior who gets his dudes to play harder, stronger, better, simply because they love and trust him. And then get some coordinators who know their business and stay out of that lane.


The Lions won – my god, talk about me burying the lede – because Dan Campbell coached from his heart, which is exactly the thing people, myself included, have shit on him for. He went for it on 4th down and it was a colossal disaster, but it was still the right call. It just felt like the thing that happens to the Lions, where we get our entire upper torso ripped open and have to watch as our enemy pulls our still beating heart from our chest and eats it in front of us as we die. That is the Lions football that we know and somehow survive.


BUT, the Lions were given a moment, a slice of time ticking away faster than they could play, and we knew – WE KNEW – it would all end up comically. But it didn’t.


Instead, whatever natural born supermodel slaying juice Jared Goff had buried down deep, his last reserve of it maybe, was summoned and Goff made the right throws, lived dangerously against an ever ticking clock which we KNEW would be our doom, but fuck all that because Goff just hit Amon-Ra St. Brown for the game winning touchdown as time expired. Suck on that everyone who isn’t us.


That it came against the Vikings and the Mega-Church loving Kirk Cousins makes it all the better. It’s kind of weird to think about, but Cousins grew up here and I imagine his football team, his first love, is the Detroit Lions. He is far past that now, of course, but you wonder if there maybe wasn’t a hint of joy in his otherwise rotten heart for the team of his youth, for the boy who he was, who could have gone in a million different directions, but chose the oppressive conservative church life because that’s what cowards do.


Cousins is a coward. He is not a leader, as evidenced by every single one of his NFL teams fading into mediocrity even as he puts up his numbers. I am glad he is not our quarterback, and even if we shit all over Jared Goff for not being Mathew Stafford, like a dude mistreating his new girlfriend because she is not the love of his life that he had to let go, I would take Goff one million times before I would even consider Kirk Cousins as our quarterback.


There is a lot of work left to do, a deep yawn of a cavern of history that can never be squared away, that haunts us, every game, every season, but in that impossible cavern, there is a man named Dan Campbell rubbing sticks together to try to make fire, and that is where it begins, where it has to begin, and maybe, just maybe, that little dart as time expired to Amon-Ra St. Brown was the spark that lit that fire and those sticks are burning in Dan Campbell’s hands, and he is crying, both in joy at having made fire, and in pain as it burns him. He will have to learn how to control that fire, and if he can do that, the Detroit Lions as a species may just conquer it all someday, even if that day is thousands of years from now when we are all ghosts and skeletons, but consciousness is a funny thing, The Great Willie Young transcends time, and somehow, someway, thousands of years from now, we will all be there to witness and revel in the Detroit Lions, champions and conquerors.