"They said you ain't got a prayer.
A chance in you know where.
But I just didn't care, 'cause
When I looked in your eyes?
You were a long shot from the start.
An easy way to break my heart.
But as perfect as you are?
You gotta risk it all sometimes.
I believe in the underdog!
Who chases dreams, and breaks down walls!
The shy kid who gets the prom queen --
Who's never been the star of anything!
And those two lovers hitched at City Hall?
They've got each other, so they've got it all!
Call me a dreamer, say I'm a little naive --
But I believe, in the underdog ..."
"Underdog" by the Lost Trailers.
For the record, I would have gone 1-2 SU yesterday, and 1-2 ATS. I had Green Bay and Pittsburgh winning (Steelers covered +3), and Dallas winning comfortably (they failed to cover -9). Oof.
Last Week ATS: 7-7-0.
Season to Date ATS: 80-90-5.
Last Week SU: 6-8-0.
Season to Date SU: 100-75-0.
"The Voice of Reason" So Far This Season, On Weeks He Submits His Picks: 62-81-5. In Mr. Reason's defense, he's swamped right now with real life. Also, Mr. Reason, on weeks he submits his picks, only picks ATS, and not heads-up winners.
"Screw You Pete King" Upset / Week Last Week: 1-1.
"Screw You Pete King" Upset / Week Season to Date: 6-10.
"Screw You Pete King" Upset / Week This Week: Saints over Seahawks.
The Non-Jets, Non-Chiefs Wild Guesses:
(Note: all lines provided by Danny Sheridan via USA Today. Danny Sheridan: This Site's Official Oddsmaker Since It Was "The Herm" (George Harrison Voice) "All Those Years Ago"!)
* at Colts 27, Titans (+3 1/2) 24. I refuse to play the "which roadie would you rather make the first weekend in January" game yet ... but I prefer Cincinnati to Indy, thank you very much.
* at Browns 21, Jaguars (+7) 20. Most assuredly your "Good Times Game O' The Week"!!!!
* at Panthers 28, Bucs (+8) 24. NBC HAS to flex Panthers at Saints into the Sunday Night slot, right? (Update: they did four days ago. Wow, even by my standards, that's a whiff.)
* Bears (+1) 28, at Vikings 13. This is one of the single most absurd lines I have ever seen, and I'm in year twenty one of picking every game, every week.
* at Eagles (+3) 28, Cardinals 24. This line, on the other hand, is dead on accurate. The Eagles are going to win on a last second field goal ... but I have to pick someone to cover.
* Bills (-3) 34, Falcons 13 (in Toronto). How is this line only three? There's some wacky, wacky lines this week, none more so than ... hang on, we'll get there.
* at 49ers 27, Rams (+8) 24. This game ended in a tie last year. I see an overtime thriller this year.
* Patriots (-9) 73, at Texans 0. Students of NFL history, will understand the predicted outcome. Also, this is your "Gordon Shumway Game O' The Week"!!!!!
* at Chargers (PK) 28, Bengals 20. Hang on here -- the Chargers are at 5-6, and have played 7 of 11 on the road? So 4 of their last 5 are at home? And the roadie is a coin-flip short week at denver in the last Thursday nighter? Circle me intrigued, Bert. Especially after last week -- VERY intrigued. Especially given their history against the Colts the last ten years ...
* Giants (PK) 3, at Redskins 2. This might be the worst Sunday Night Football game since flex scheduling began in 2006.
* Saints (+4 1/2) 41, at Seahawks 38. I have rarely anticipated a game that doesn't affect the Chiefs in no way, shape, or form, as much as I'm anticipating the Monday Nighter this week. Good God, folks, this is a GREAT game!
The Kevin Keitzman Tweet O' The Week:
Giving it a pass.
"The Voice of Reason"'s Reason:
To be posted when / if received.
I hate the denver broncos;
They truly are Satan's team.
There's nothing good about them --
Not one redeemable thing.
They are evil,
They are not nice;
I guarantee you,
They have all had head lice.
I'd ask if patrick j. bowlen,
Could recall being called a "classless jackass",
But that wouldn't be very nice --
Some might call it crass.
Me? I'd call it appropriate;
With denver? Anything goes!
Besides, what mr. bowlen remembers?
Nobody, not even him, knows!
Sunday at 3:30?
Those assholes invade our turf.
Sunday at 7:30?
Their season buried -- under six f*cking feet of dirt.
On Tamba! On DJ!
On Berry and Poe!
Take out peyton manning!
Break every one of his toes!
On Flowers! On Cooper!
On Lewis and on Smith!
Hammer those jackasses so hard,
They wave the white flag and quit!
On Alex! On Jamaal!
On Avery and D Bowe!
Beat those mother (truckers) --
Close their title window!
I HATE the denver broncos!
And if you do too?
Then show up at Arrowhead on Sunday;
Turn that stadium into a zoo!
We don't need no spotting,
Of a car containing a star.
We don't need Ed Hochuli,
Helping us from afar.
We need you -- Chiefs fans,
Loyal to the Red and Gold.
We need you -- Chiefs fans,
Whether middle aged, young, or old.
Stand up and shout!,
As Rob Riggle will implore!
Stand up and shout!
Turn the Red Sea into a roar!
Be loud! Be very, very loud!
Make mr. manning's team punt!
After all -- peyton manning?
Is the world's biggest (use your imagination ... it rhymes with "unt").
Sunday is the day,
We have long awaited to arrive.
Sunday is the day,
You need to take a drive.
To Arrowhead you need to go;
Let money be no object.
Because walking out on Sunday night?
Is going to be f*cking perfect!!!!
(c) 2013, Stevo Productions. No Rights Reserved. Oh, and my true feelings for the denver broncos? Best expressed by the great Mr. Ted Nugent.
The Tailgating Plans:
We learned our lesson last week.
There are three guaranteed tailgating staples each year: raider ribs. Charger chicken. bronco burgers.
We deviated from Charger chicken.
Sunday's menu is bronco burgers (which are damned good, actually), along with a few side items, and a healthy supply of libations. Also, if I get a chance to get out tomorrow (and my schedule doesn't look promising at this point), there will be a jackass-shaped pinata for the always-fun filled "Beat the Sh*t Out of Bronkey!" game that the NFL should use as the lynch-pin in its' "Play 60" campaign. (And if I can't get said jackass-shaped pinata? Just beat the crap out of Triple-Noose donkey, hanging above the speakers. Just look at poor Triple-Noose donkeys' helmet -- he's suffering from PTSD by now.)
The current plan is for the Bus to leave by 8:15am, and be in line by 8:30am. I'm guessing we'll be parked a little after 9am in our usual Bat Location of the grassy lot to the north of the G30 sign.
(Gates are scheduled to open at 10am, but with no early-in available, and a forecast high of 50 (and more importantly, a forecast low Saturday night of 36), I'm guessing the line will spill onto Stadium Drive by 8:50 at the latest.)
As always, anyone who simply wants to have a fun time, is more than welcome to tailgate with us. We hold no grudges ... although if you show up wearing Satan's colors, I will boo you, I will raise two middle fingers in your general direction, I will drop a few profane words in your direction, and in the words of the late, great Senator Edward M. Kennedy (D-Mass), "you can bet your ass", I will tell you to your face, to go do something to yourself that is anatomically impossible.
Well, unless you're Ron Jeremy. He might be able to pull the feat off.
The Flashback -- Chiefs vs donkeys:
Let's pretend like last year, the Sunday after Thanksgiving, didn't happen, ok?
And let's really pretend, like last year, the first day of December, really didn't happen, ok? At least for a few more paragraphs.
The Jets Prognostication:
Thanksgiving Day in my world, and my family, involves three things.
(1) I dog-sit for my brother and his wife, because,
(2) They take off for Wichita first thing in the morning, to spend the holiday with my sister-in-law's family, since her grandma can't travel anymore. Oh, and since I am staying the day and night within five minutes of my folks (I live 30 minutes away from them), that means,
(3) I head their way early in the morning, and my mom and I get the family house ready for Christmas.
This year, we started a little after 7am. Which, in our defense, if you'd seen the immense quantity of wine we all plowed through at our family "Thanksgiving" the night before*, you'd have called being semi-coherent at 7am the next morning nothing short of a Thanksgiving Day miracle.
Mom and I had the tree up by 8am. (They use a fake one ... and every year, it leads to the "God (mucking bam) it, why'd we throw away the (clucking) instructions ten years ago!" blast out of me that gets the death stare out of mom, as I try to figure out the color coding on which fake branch goes where.) We had the ornaments up by 8:30. We opted not to do the outside lights this year, and opted to hang the garland over the entrances to the family room, rather than on the mantle of the fireplace. (It looks sweet, to be honest ... and I was 100% opposed to screwing with that tradition.)
(*: ok, there were eight of us there Wednesday night: myself, my brother, his wife, my mom and dad, and my nephew and nieces, who are 5 and 3 and 3 respectively, so they weren't drinking. At least that we noticed. The damage done? Two 1.75ml bottles of Barefoot, and one 1.75ml bottle of whatever the hell my brother started in on during the day. And my dad wasn't drinking (he can't; doctors orders), and my sister-in-law wasn't drinking either. Oh, and our buddy Neeck and his sister were nowhere in sight; they went her way this year. Uuh ... yikes. I should also note, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving "Thanksgiving" we have in my family, is always with food that has nothing to do, with the holiday. It's our tradition. Y'all should enjoy it sometime; if you're a friend? You're family year round, and especially during the holidays.)
For Thanksgiving Day, my mom always makes a small turkey for the three of us -- my mom, my dad, and myself. It's usually ready a little before noon, along with some potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and, uuh, "the sauce", which this year was two gigantic bottles of Little Penguin Shiraz ... one of which may or may not have been consumed while setting up said tree, said outside decorations, and said garland.
Seven weeks ago, on October 6th, we lost my dad -- twice, in the span of two hours; the second time, for three painful days.
Thursday, on November 28th, my brother's 34th birthday, my dad and I watched "Captain Phillips" in the 1pm showing at the Westglen movie complex thingy ... and my dad's only b*tch was that "I really needed to pee halfway through, but this movie was too damned good, to walk out on". (In his defense, he's right -- this was one of the better movies I've seen in the last ten years, to be honest.)
My long-winded way of saying this (and I'll get more into it for the Chiefs portion of these not-even-remotely-prepared remarks): this time of year? Embrace those you love. Thank God above that they're here.
And love the hell out of them, because they're here.
I walked into Shawnee Mission at about 1pm on October 6th, knowing my Dad was dead ... and knowing I had to tell my Mom that fact, when she arrived momentarily.
I walked out of Walgreens on 87th at about 4pm on November 28th, smuggling a couple packs of the ridiculously addictive mint-flavored M&M's for Dad to enjoy, when Mom isn't looking.
You better believe, that when this year's "Annual Post" goes up around Christmas Day? For the first time ever, it ain't gonna be two people whose night of fun, frivolity, tomfoolery, hijinks, and utter lack of protection or inhibition, caused me to occur, that get thanked first.
As for this game? * at Jets (-2) 23, Dolphins 17.
Enjoy the hell out of the holiday, readers. Because until you know the pain of loss ... and the triumph of recovery? You cannot possibly imagine, how much this holiday season, has meant to me.
The Chiefs Prediction:
The Friday of Thanksgiving Weekend, means two things to me:
(1) Put up the tree, and
(2) Start planting the gifts under it.
I don't do this like most normal people would. I buy a boatload of bags and tissue paper (note: I am too damned lazy to wrap gifts) the week of Thanksgiving, and then the Friday of Thanksgiving, I start laying out sacks, labeling them for who they're going to, and then fill them in, as the ensuing weeks go on. Once the bag is full (aka "I've put everything they're getting in there"), I put the tissue paper in. As of this typing, I have 18 bags ready to go ... and I've still got a solid 5-6 I haven't even labeled yet.
Don't believe me*?
(photo: via my iPhone, cropped via the Snag-It program on my laptop.)
(*: if you want to play the guessing game ... The Top Row? The bag on the far left, is for a dog that may or may not be "Zues" in nature. The bag on the far right, may or may not be for "Lil' Champ or Chica", and the bag immediately left of it may or may not be for "Lil' Cordie". The bag second from the left, is for one of my "Special Little Girls". And the bag third from the right, is for "My Second Parents". Front row? The bag on the far right, is for "My Special Little Guy". The bag on the far left, will eventually be for my bowling league teammates. The bag third from the right, may or may not be for "The Chica", and the bag between "My Special Little Guy" and "The Chica", may or may not be for "The Champ". Also in there somewhere? My other "Special Little Girl", about five folks from my bowling league, "The Voice of Reason", and my brother, sister-in-law, my tailgating group, and my folks ... plus a few others. Oh, and there is a mother (trucker) load of candy and, uuh, candy canes, to still load into everyone's bag. (Pause). Damned right you're welcome.)
And with that little sideshow over ...
I love this time of year so damned much ...
Because I believe, in the underdog.
Read your history, folks.
The Pilgrims, sailing across an ocean so uncharted that they wound up nearly 500 miles off-course, were underdogs.
Call me a dreamer! Say I'm a little naive!
But I believe ... in the underdog!
One year ago on Sunday, the rebirth of this franchise began.
Sunday? The rebirth can be fully embraced.
I love this time of year so much, because no matter how much you've f*cked up, no matter how much you have failed, no matter how much you have disgusted or disappointed people?
You get a second chance. You get a do-over.
The Chiefs get their do-over.
And they're gonna take advantage of it, like no Chiefs team, ever has before.
Look it, I believe in this team.
One year ago, this franchise hit rock bottom. My brother and I were exchanging text messages, over Jovan Belcher killing his girlfriend, then killing himself.
Sunday? My brother and I, will be toasting Bloody Mary's to each other, no later than 10am ...
... because we believe,
In the underdog.
Namely, we'll be toasting the biggest "underdog" ... of all.
And it ain't the Chiefs, we'll be toasting.
"They said you ain't got a prayer!
A chance in you know where!"
"You were a long shot from the start,
An easy way to break my heart!"
"I believe in the underdog!
Who chases dreams and breaks down walls!"
"Call me a dreamer! Say I'm a little naive!
But I believe, in the underdog!"
I should have chosen a better theme, in retrospect.
My dad died on October 6, for nine minutes, naturally.
My dad died on October 6, for nearly 72 hours, medically.
He's the only man I know, who hates the denver broncos, more than I do.
He's the only person I know, who appreciates this clip, more than I do:
I spent two hours and twenty minutes, watching "Captain Phillips" with my Dad, yesterday in a movie theater.
Those of you who know me best, know what my Dad means to me. That man is my hero. He is literally the only reason I still draw breath on this planet -- I love that man so much, I cry when I fail or disappoint my mom, let alone Dad. I'd have checked out eleven years ago, if it wasn't for Dad.
My Dad's response leaving the theater yesterday, when I asked him what he thought of the movie? "Twenty minutes too long. Also, once he escaped the lifeboat ... wow. (Captain Phillips) dodged the bullets! Someone clearly wanted him to live!"
"Someone clearly wanted him to live!"
Call me a dreamer.
Say I'm a little naive.
But I believe ...
in MY underdog.
I love you Dad. Not just then. Not just now.
* at Chiefs (+4 1/2) 10, broncos 6, in honor of the last donkeys game he attended ... and probably ever will.
Call me a dreamer!
Say I'm a little naive!
But God above, do I believe ... in the underdog.
God above, do I believe, in the underdog ...