To recap: its 27-3 Titans. Chris Johnson takes a simple handoff ... and is gone. Down the Titans sideline. He leap dives into the endzone ... then heads over to the TD Pack Band, and starts playing Patti DiParto-Livergood's bongo drums like a kid turned loose in a recording studio.
While noone affiliated with the Chiefs organization does a damned thing about it.
He played OUR band's drums, in OUR house, in the ultimate act of humiliation ... and nobody on our sideline gave enough of a damn to rush the field and pound his ass into a coma.
Nobody with the Chiefs did anything. Other than stand around and watch.
(steve sighing in disgust). At that point, I decided, if the paid professionals don't give a sh*t, why should I. So off to the bus I went. But I'll say this: for all the crap DT and Wayne Simmons and other defenders took for the "Monday Night Meltdown" 10 years ago come November 16th ... at least they had enough pride to not allow the ultimate humiliation in their house to go unchallenged. Our roster is so devoid of pride, of respect, of anything even approaching a love for what the Red and Gold stands for ... that we let a mother f*cking rookie play the TD Pack Band's bongo drums.
And nobody did a damned thing about it.
(steve sighing in disgust) 71 days until regime change must arrive at One Arrowhead Drive. Let's get through this ...
* arrived at 7:15am. We were 2nd in line. The die hards are fading fast, Mr. Hunt. They are fading fast. You might want to get that succession plan for Carl firmed up over the next 71 days, sir ... and if you don't want to wait until December 29th, I'm cool with that too ...
* hadn't been down to the Grigsby's tailgate in a while. Good to see good people doing, uuh, good.
* walked back up about 10am after seeing Gordon and Jenni ... and walk into the unquestioned Highlight of the Game. As the good folks with a video camera, a huge Price Chopper Chopper Shopper card, and the real $100 Prrrrrrrrice Chopper gift card show up. Yup, for the 2nd time in less than 2 years, we were the Price Chopper Tailgaters of the Game!!! (More on this later, it was, as The Sports Guy would put it, the Ultimate Eff-U! tailgating moment of a lifetime ...)
(back row from left: Russ, Mona, buddy of Davey's, me, Davey. front row from left: Monty, Austin, Amanda, Sheila, Tracey, Nancy. photo: Monty).
(also, the youtube! link of the winning video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-kNlxXp8J8 Enjoy!)
* after winning, what do you do? Crack open the champagne. OK, fine, it was already cracked open, but still, now it tasted better.
* seriously. Let this sink in for a second. We first got this designation at the last "huge" game played at Arrowhead, the Thanksgiving Night game against denver. I mean, you win it for a primetime, national contest, on Thanksgiving no less, you're rocking the house. To win it for the 2nd time in less than 2 years? Call me crazy ... but I think we know how to tailgate. If colleges offered Tailgating 101, we'd write the friggin textbook.
(My way of saying: if I send you the "here's the tailgating menu today, hope you show up" email that goes out every gameday week? It means two things. (1) You might want to show up, because we know how to party on. And (2) You might want to show up ... because I think you are good enough to tailgate with us. The best tailgaters at Arrowhead. Consider yourselves honored if I forward on the menu to you. Also, consider showing up ...)
* after some more serious partying, some beer bonging with the always reliable neighbors (their beer bong kicks serious ass, its a double spouter. Unbelievable.), anyways, after another solid hour of partying like a rock star, time to break down and head in.
* Nobody sat in Randy's seat today. First time since the Falcons game in 2004. That game was by choice; this one ... probably not a bad thing, because it got pretty warm in the lower bowl. Sweatshirts were coming off.
* from the "Yup, I'm a member of the "reputable singles site" whose initials contain an a, a f, and a f" department ... for the 2nd straight home game, I arrive at my seat to the following text:
(11:30:01am) "are you going to take off your shirt today?"
Uuh, no. It was nice outside today ... but not that nice.
Then after replying "depends what its worth to you, "fake ashley"", I get this:
(11:33:12am) "do you know who tip is?"
I assume Jenni meant "this". But yeah, I knew. Seriously. Jenni is a great friend, an awesome person ... but there is no sexual attraction there. At least on her part. So why G put her up to it ... actually I know why, to get a rise out of me somewhere other than (rimshot!). So it worked.
(steve bashing head on desk in frustration at falling for g's latest p*ss steve off all in good fun campaign ...)
* Emmitt Thomas got his HOF ring in the pregame stuff. That was neat. Carl Peterson? Nowhere to be seen.
(Really, if you don't have the balls to face your paying public as a GM ... WHY ARE YOU A GM?!?!)
* KC Wolf sketch. Awful.
* For the first time this year, the seats next to me got used. Speaking of seats ...
* We had a neat little sticker on our seats letting us know what our seat number would be next year. Apparently, the Chiefs have entered the ... uuh ... BC era? The Crusades? Anyways, starting next year in the lower bowl, seat numbers will begin on the aisle, as opposed to the middle of the row. (Meaning next year, this (no longer!) self described hot as hell 30 something year old will be in seat 14 next year, instead of seat 2 ...)
* The anthem was rock solid. I forget the group's name, something like One Falls Down? But anyways, add them to the Steve approved Anthem rotation.
* I knew we were done when Bironas nailed the almost 50 yarder into the wind with room to spare. Actually, check that. I knew we were done before I arrived, hence my 31-3 predicted final. But yeah, that one just nailed home how hopeless today was.
* Gun on the sidelines! Didn't help. Although ... Gun. If you're gonna return to the sidelines, at least haul the track pant suit out of retirement. I miss that thing. And not just because I went to Halloween 2005 as Gun in said track pant suit ... with yellow sunglasses to boot ...
* Croyle's injury. Yikes. He was 9 of 10 when he went down (although we trailed 10-0). But man ... yikes. He got leveled. Poor kid. His career ends 0-8.
* The play calling ending the half. What. The. Hell? I'm fine with running out the clock down 17. Really, I am. But why go deep to Tony G after bleeding 20 seconds off the clock? It made zero sense. Honestly, the clock management of Herm Edwards makes Barack Obama's tax proposals seem sensible. The clock management of Herm Edwards makes Barack Obama's "we quit" plan for defeat in the war on terror seem smart. The clock management of Herm Edwards makes Barack Obama's ... ok, you get the point.
(Vote McCain / Palin!)
* 2nd half, the second best highlight had to be Baghead. A dude in our section put a bag on his head and started working the section with said bag on his head. Pal, we get blown out in the Meadowlands on Sunday, I'm with you.
* But the highlight ...
Think back to winning "Tailgaters of the Game". There is one person in particular who has been at our tailgate for a while, that we don't really care for. This person embodies the worst in a Chiefs fan. So, we changed the rules to go against said person. We started charging to tailgate with us in the hopes that this person would go away.
Today, this person didn't show. They didn't show.
And we won "Tailgaters of the Game" without them.
On the walk out, after the Bongo Drum Fiasco ... Mona, Russ and myself ran into this person at the spiral ramp near 132.
We rubbed it in. Specifically, Mona rubbed it in. Turned on the charm. The "Can you believe it? We won!" excitement. And the look on this person's face ... like I said, the Eff U Tailgating Moment of a Lifetime.
They done effed up. And we done got ourselves a $100 gift card and (for the second time in two years) a stadium wide designation as THE place to tailgate.
Yeah. Eff U.
Which pretty much sums up my thoughts on everything affiliated with this team right now ...
Coming tomorrow (hopefully): Steve unloads on "chicken sh*t" Carl Peterson for not having the balls to show up for Alumni Weekend ...
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