Thursday, March 20, 2014

my 2014 ncaa toonumunt picks

“Let’s all pack up and move this year.
Slip the liars, and disappear.
Leave memories for auctioneers,
And those just standing still.

They’ll miss the taste of wanting you.
Call out your name, like I still do.
But they haven’t said a word that’s true,
And they only hold you down.

And this heartbreak world?
We’ve just imagined.
With tired talk,
And better days.

In this heartbreak world,
Where nothing matters?
Come on, let’s make this dream
That’s barely half awake …

Come true …”


--------------------

Welcome, peoples and peepettes, to the world’s longest NCAA Tournament Prediction Post, Version 2014!!!  Oh, I can see you all just drooling with excitement at the nearly twenty page read this bad boy is gonna be for the second office already!

As always, the few ground rules this post has:

1. Someone will be mocked.  Mercilessly.  (For the first time, this someone is NOT Duke.  Ooh, intrigue right off the bat!)
2. This is how my main bracket in any pool I enter, will look.
3. These picks are provided to you free of charge, as a service to the gambling public.  Because I am the worst prognosticator, to attempt prognostication.

Sadly, there are only three ground rules this year.  I’d like to thank the Missouri Tigers for their epic, epic collapse, to go from a top ten squad, to NIT bound, in barely two months, for costing us a second merciless mocking.  Please, pick up your commemorative “We Passed on Bill Self for Quin Snyder!” t-shirts, and please, don’t let the door hit you in the ass, on your way to the “Not Invited Tournament”.

Ready?

Ready! 

(this day and age voice) So here we go …

Memphis Regional:

The First Four Round:

16 Mount St. Mary’s over 16 Albany.  Yeah, I won’t be tuning in for this.

The Round of Sixty Four:

1. Florida over 16 Mount St. Mary’s.  Every year, one region winds up as Stevo’s Site Numero Dos’ Official Children’s Toy, Thomas the Train, every year, one region winds up as the Thomas the Train Memorial Region.  Namely, like my nephew driving Thomas and Friends off the bridge, off the cliff, off the road, and causing mayhem and destruction, the Thomas the Train Memorial Region sees countless favorite fall by the wayside, and you wind up with a “wait, what the hell?” regional final.  The Memphis Regional?  Is this year’s Thomas the Train Memorial Region … although you won’t realize it, until after the next round.

8 Colorado over 9 Pittsburgh.  If – and certainly, I hope this doesn’t happen – but if Bill Self finally makes the leap to the Association, Tad Boyle’s number had better be first, second, and third, on the list of calls AD Sheahon Zenger will be making, to find Bill’s replacement.

5 VCU over 12 Stephen F. Austin.  I don’t care that whoever the hell Stephen F. Austin is (and I’m guessing they’re from the great Republic of Texas**), they aren’t winning this game.  Or, I should say, my bracket is praying they don’t win this game.

4 UCLA over 13 Tulsa.  Poor Bruins fans.  They’re going to be longing for the salad days of Steve Lavin, by the time the Steve Alford era, reaches its fifth straight year of failing to make the Sweet Sixteen.  At least Lavin was good for an Elite Eight run every couple of years.

11 Dayton over 6 The Ohio State University.  Sorry Cooksey.  Your team is going down!  Plus, Dayton is far better than an 11; that’s an outrageous seed.  (judge judy voice) Outrageous!  Especially with BYU as a ten.  (Although to be fair, BYU was moved up a line, to accommodate the fact they don’t play on Sunday.  They also don’t allow you to drink, or have a night of fun casual sex either.  Let’s just say, BYU was never on my short list of schools, I debated attending (gulp) twenty years ago.

3 Syracuse over 14 Western Michigan.  Normally, this is where someone would note “hey – your two teams are set up to meet in the Sweet Sixteen!  That’s gotta be tough for you!”  And normally this is where I’d reply “it’s happened before; twice in the last fifteen years, and I’ve rooted for KU every time.”  But there’s no need to worry about a KU / ‘Cuse matchup next week Thursday or Friday.  Because it isn’t happening.

7 New Mexico over 10 Stanford.  So allow me to give the committee a bit of creative credit here.  The bracket this year is FULL of potential sweet-ass games after round one.  Florida / UCLA in a rematch of the 2006 Title Game is possible in the Sweet Sixteen.  KU / Syracuse in a rematch of the 2003 Title Game is possible in the Sweet Sixteen.  UCLA / New Mexico (“The Steve Alford Bowl”!) is in play for the Elite Eight.  And that’s just in the Memphis Regional!  Congrats committee.  You get multiple Tommy Points, for your work this year.

2 KU over 15 Eastern Kentucky.  Report: Stevo irrationally hates anything with the word “Kentucky” in it.

(**: there are two states with the Constitutional right to secede, because they were independent nations before attaining statehood.  One of them is Texas, which was a Republic from 1836 to 1845.  And God, if they do it, I am so leaving Barack Obama’s America yesterday to “return home”.  The other?  Hawaii.  Because of COURSE the other state with the ability to give us the potential to get the hell out of this collapsing nation, is Mr. Obama’s birthplace.)

The Round of Thirty Two:

8 Colorado over 1 Florida.  I have no idea why.  There is no sane, rational, justifiable, explainable reason for this pick.  I just think Florida is pathetically overrated due to the crappy conference they play in.  Going 18-0 in the SEC?  Is the equivalent of going 5-13 in the Big XII.  Maybe 6-12, if you could sweep Texas Tech or West Virginia, and good luck winning in Lubbock or Morgantown, to make that happen.

5 VCU over 4 UCLA.  I love me some Shaka Smart.  His name better be no lower than four, on that potential Bill Self replacement list.

3 Syracuse over 11 Dayton.  Yawner.

7 New Mexico over 2 Kansas.  Hang on, let me do this up right.  (paul page voice) WHOA!  BIG CRASH!  (good ol’ jr voice) My God, the carnage!  I don’t like this one damned bit!  Yes, peoples and peepettes, I have KU out on Sunday afternoon.  To a team they already beat by nineteen barely four months ago.  Why?  Because I just don’t see how KU can deal with New Mexico’s front line without Joel Embiid. 

And because, as I noted to “The Voice of Reason” last week, “Andrew Wiggins is reminding me of ‘Melo in 2003 at this point.”  To which Mr. Reason replied “But he doesn’t have McNamara”.  Or Hakim Warrick, I’d add. 

And for anyone who says this upset is impossible?  * Cough Northern Iowa 2010 Cough *.  * Cough Bucknell 2005 Cough *.  (Note: I’m not saying Bradley 2006.  That Bradley team was criminitely underseeded, as proven by their run to the Sweet Sixteen, and giving a loaded Memphis team all it could handle, when it got there.)

The Round of Sixteen:

5 VCU over 8 Colorado.  This could be the sneaky good, nobody sees it coming, funnest game of the tournament.  Or, excuse me.  (hootie johnson voice) toonumunt.

(Note: you're damned right, I picked this clip, because Eldrick had to crown Phil.)

7 New Mexico over 3 Syracuse.  From last unbeaten standing, to finished in the Sweet Sixteen.  Or a typical post 1987 Boeheim-coached season for the Orange.

The Elite Eight:

5 VCU over 7 New Mexico.  This is Shaka Smart’s best team ever.  Given that he’s already taken one to a Final Four in the last four years, that’s saying something.

Memphis Regional Champion: The Virginia Commonwealth University Rams.

New York City Regional:

The First Four Round:

There are no first four games in this regional.

The Round of Sixty Four:

1 Virginia over 16 Coastal Carolina.  Smells like a 90-57 tune-up to open the tourney for the ACC champion, both regular and post season. 

9 George Washington over 8 Memphis.  This might be the best round of sixty four game, when it’s all said and done.  Total coin flip.  Both teams can win this game.  Or either is losing by fifteen plus, forty eight hours later.

12 Harvard over 5 Cincinnati.  For as great as Cincinnati has been the last twenty five years (and most years, they’re a tournament regular, a twenty win regular, and a threat to see the second weekend), the fact that the only team they landed in the Final Four was way back in 1991, is incredible to me.  Between Bob Huggins and Mick Cronin, you’d think at least one other squad, would have managed to do it.

4 Michigan State over 13 Delaware.  How pumped would you be, to be in Spokane, for this beauty of an opener?  Circle me sound asleep and drooling drunk, Bert!

6 North Carolina over 11 Providence.  The fans in San Antonio are going to need someone to poke them with a stick, to stay awake through this half of the regional.

3 Iowa State over 14 NC Central.  Too bad there isn’t a seventeen seed.  Get it?  NC 17?  (Pause).  Hey, wouldn’t that be funny if it was a police line?  (Rimshot!)**

10 St. Joseph’s over 7 UConn.  This is Phil Martelli’s best team in a decade.  That team ten years ago fell by one in the regional final.

2 Villanova over 15 UW-Milwaukee.  What number will ultimately be higher: UW-Milwaukee’s seed (15), or the Milwaukee Bucks win total (currently 13)?  Sadly, that’s a legitimate query.

(**: a few of you will laugh out loud, reading that one liner … you’re welcome.  As always, my life exists to provide others, an avenue of cheap entertainment.)

The Round of Thirty Two:

1 Virginia over 9 George Washington.  Wait, wasn’t G-Dub from Virginia?  Those crazy cats on the NCAA Committee, they never fail to amuse me.

4 Michigan State over 12 Harvard.  Tommy Amaker couldn’t beat Tom Izzo when he coached Michigan.  He ain’t beating them coaching Harvard, either.

3 Iowa State over 6 North Carolina.  OK, I’ll go there, I’ll ask it.  Anyone think we’ll get a Larry Eustachy wearing a ISU sticker shot, during this game, ala Roy Boy in 2008 during the National Title Game?  For the record, my answer is not just “no”, it’s “hell no!”, because we all know Ol’ Lar will be getting his drink on at one of the fine Mexican dining establishments on the Riverwalk, while hitting on some shapely co-ed half his age.  (Pause).  You’re damned right I love Larry Eustachy!  He’s me in five years!  Wait, did I just type that out loud?

10 St. Joseph’s over 2 Villanova.  Either way, the committee did us a positive here.  If it’s UConn / Villanova, we get a classic Big East showdown for free.  If it’s St. Joe’s / Villanova, we get a Philly Five showdown for free.  (And if it’s UW-Milwaukee vs anyone, we get one amazing upset to enjoy, forty eight hours earlier).  Viva la committee!

The Round of Sixteen:

1 Virginia over 4 Michigan State.  The Wayne Allyn Root Memorial “Contrarian” Pick of the bracket.  Every man and his fifth cousin four times removed is picking Sparty to reach Dallas.  I’ll take the ACC champion for the win, Alex.

10 St Joseph’s over 3 Iowa State.  You live by the three, you die by the three.  Iowa State can beat anybody … but if they finally have an off night from behind the line, they’re toast.  Which makes St. Joe’s the butter and strawberry jam.  Mmm, jam.

The Elite Eight:

1 Virginia over 10 St. Joseph’s.  Somewhere, Ralph Sampson is sitting thinking “wait, this Cavs team accomplished what mine never could?”  Sorry Ralph.  They will.

New York City Regional Champion: The University of Virginia Cavaliers.

Anaheim Regional:

The First Four Round:

There are no first four games in this regional.

The Round of Sixty Four:

1 Arizona over 16 Weber State.  True story!  1993 NCAA Tournament, I pick Arizona, the two seed in the West, to win the whole thing.  They actually went on a 25-0 run at one point in their opener against Santa Clara.  And they lost, 64-61.  Which begs two questions: (1) how the hell do you go on a 25-0 run, and lose, and (2) (good ol’ jr voice) My God!  That’s … that guy truly is the world’s worst prognosticator!

9 Oklahoma State over 8 Gonzaga.  I’m far more offended with Gonzaga as an 8, than BYU as a 10.  At least BYU beat a team higher than 10 this year.

5 Oklahoma over 12 North Dakota State.  Congrats to Lon Kruger – fifth team he’s taken to the big dance.  His alma mater (Kansas State), his Final Four berth (Florida), his pure cash grab (Illinois), his career rehabilitation after crapping the bed in the NBA (UNLV), and finally, the end destination job (Oklahoma).  Hoping for good things for that guy.

4 San Diego State over 13 New Mexico State.  You can do worse, than pick a Steve Fisher led team, to win a game or three in this tournament.

11 Nebraska over 6 Baylor.  Everyone loves to point to the trivia fact that Northwestern is the only BCS level school to never reach the NCAA tournament.  And that truly, truly, truly, must be painful for Wildcats fans.  (I root for KU and Syracuse; I wouldn’t know what total failure for a program feels like.)  But my Lord, how much have Nebraska fans gotta be feeling, having made the tournament a few times, and never winning a game?  To finally break through, with Sebree’s team awaiting?  I might have to haul out the old school Lawrence Phillips 1995 Fiesta Bowl jersey for this one.

3 Creighton over 14 Louisiana-Lafayette.  Just for sh*ts and giggles, I think everyone who knows my “good friend” Sebree, should send him fake trade proposals all game long to get Doug McDermott onto their team’s roster.  You know, for old time’s sake, for those “I’ll send you Brodie Croyle for Tom Brady, straight up!  It’s a steal for you!” insulting trade proposals he used to clog our inboxes with. 

7 Oregon over 10 BYU.  And as if UNL / Creighton this weekend wasn’t enticing enough of a potential matchup, we could have Dana Altman against his former employer to open the Sweet Sixteen.  I told you the committee nailed it this year.

2 Wisconsin over 15 American.  In the interest of full disclosure, there is no team in America I hate more, than your Wisconsin Badgers.  They’ve never met a shot clock they can’t bleed 34 seconds off of.  They’ve never met a fast break they couldn’t slow down.  They’ve never run a set play that doesn’t give off visions of Mike Woodson’s “clogged toilet” offense in New York.  I hate watching Wisconsin play.  I hate it.  But there’s no way they’re losing to whatever the hell American University is.  Is this that National American University thingy you see ads for all day long?  Is this Native American University?  No, wait, that’s Haskell.  American University.  It sounds like a seedy operation.  Really seedy.  (Pause).  You’re damned right I’ll be their biggest fan come whenever their game tips off.

The Round of Thirty Two:

1 Arizona over 9 Oklahoma State.  If I had to rank the one seeds, in likely order to lose in the round of 32, I’d rank them Arizona, Florida, Wichita State, and Virginia.  If I had to put odds on them losing, I’d say Arizona 50% (if facing OSU) / 10% (if facing Gonzaga), Florida 40% (if facing Colorado) / 5% (if facing Pitt), Wichita State 35% (against either KSU or Kentucky), and Virginia 0% (against either Memphis or G Dub).  Let’s just say, in the words of the great Mr. Hugh M. Hefner, “this one could be something … REALLY special!”

5 Oklahoma over 4 San Diego State.  Contrarian pick.

3 Creighton over 11 Nebraska.  What will be whiter – Sebree’s knuckles, or the towel he keeps nutting on after every McDermott bucket?  For the record, I vote knuckles; I don’t think he can squirt enough, to turn the towel white (rimshot!)  (Pause).  Oh come on!  The one drawback – the only drawback – to winning my fantasy football league this year, is that I didn’t get to taunt Sebree every step of the way!  You’re damned right he’s replaced Duke as the token punching bag in this year’s column!**

7 Oregon over 2 Wisconsin.  Give me a team that can score 80 over a team whose ceiling is 43, any day of the week.  I hate all this “Big Ten is the best conference” crap.  (chad ochocinco voice) Child, please.  Texas Tech could beat Michigan on a neutral floor.  Why?  Because they actually can score.  Sorry, but when Illinois and Nebraska – not exactly two powerhouses of the sport – destroy your league champ, in Sparty’s building?  You’re not the best conference.  Not even close.

(**: it is a friendly rivalry.  I’d have a beer with that guy any day … except he’d opt for a cosmopolitan or a white Russian.  Which to be fair, I wouldn’t opt for a beer either – I’d take a SoCo with lime, on the rocks.  Mmm, SoCo with lime.  I think I know what my drink of choice for today is!)

The Round of Sixteen:

1 Arizona over 5 Oklahoma.  Smells like one of those “you talk yourself into a potential upset, then the lower seed sh*ts his pants and loses by 30” games I hate.

3 Creighton over 7 Oregon.  Hang on, we have to do this truly old school.  And I apologize in advance for one of the two “voices” about to appear, because I DESPISE Billy “Fudge” Packer with a passion only equaled by my despise of everything denver broncos.

And … action!

(jim nantz) What a matchup we have here, Billy.

(billy “fudge” packer) Jim, what a tough decision this Sebree guy has to make.  On the one hand, its his alma mater, its every white guy’s greatest dream team since the Hickory Huskers of 1954, or Adolph Rupp’s Racists of 1966.  On the other hand, it’s his homo-erotic stalking sensation’s alma mater, and his cruise ship buddy’s school.

(jim nantz) A matchup this special, you almost expect to see Fred Phelps protesting outside the arena.

(billy “fudge” packer) Jim, in the end, you have to go with the pull of the heart, over the tear of your vaginal area.  He has to cheer for Creighton.  Has to.

(jim nantz) Either way Billy, it’s called pressure!  (cue cheezy grin).

And … scene!

Just think folks, we’re only three weeks – only three short weeks away, from today, before “a tradition unlike any other” returns to our lives.  The Masters.  Only … CBS.

(Also, congrats to Mr. Nantz on the arrival of his daughter last week.  Mr. Nantz is 54, and was Fred Couples roommate at the University of Houston back in the day.  Mrs. Nantz is 33.  Someone let Jimmy know that another Jim, in this case, Boeheim, is on line five to offer his congratulations …)

The Elite Eight:

3 Creighton over 1 Arizona.  Maybe CBS can get Joey Harrington to play the piano, as the closing credits for this regional roll.  Because somehow, I envision this scene occurring, with Sebree and his Cayman Buddy.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Damned right, to the exact song from this classic clip!

Anaheim Regional Champion: The University of Creighton Bulldogs.

Indianapolis Regional:

The First Four Round:

16 Texas Southern over 16 Cal-Poly.  Whoops.

12 NC State over 12 Xavier.  Bango!

11 Tennessee over 11 Iowa.  Bango! 

The Round of Sixty Four:

1 Wichita State over 16 Texas Southern.  Report: Stevo refuses to pick directional state schools, to win in the NCAA tournament.

9 Kansas State over 8 Kentucky.  I ask this question with all due respect, seriousness, and credibility: which school’s fans moonshine smuggled into this contest, will make you vomit first?  True story time – again!  Wow, two in one post!  2002 NCAA Second Round, at the Dome in St. Louis.  Me and “The Voice of Reason” make the trek, and this is actually my favorite KU game I’ve ever attended.  I arrived convinced Stanford would beat us.  KU was up 15-0 two minutes in, and (florida georgia line voice) cruised!  That was memorable.

More memorable?  The tickets we had, landed us squarely in the heart of the Kentucky fans section, for the prior game (Tulsa v Kentucky).  Their fans are passing around a few flasks, and ask us if we want any.  Being grizzled veterans of the drinking process, absolutely we’ll try some!  I go first, and I nearly puke on the spot.  The booze reeks like a bathtub, it’s some kind of gin-like product, and it is horrific.  I guarantee you, I took six functional months of my liver’s already threatened existence, with that one swig.  Gregg?  Like a pro, takes the swig, wipes his mouth, and simply says “yup, it’s shine”.  The lesson?  I don’t think there is one, other than I’m not the only person who’ll try anything once, if it says “alcohol” on it.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Good point – I’ll try it once, provided the word “rubbing” doesn’t appear in front of “alcohol”.  My God, do I look like the Democrat nominee for President’s wife?

12 NC State over 5 Saint Louis.  I really miss Rick Majerus.

4 Louisville over 13 Manhattan.  OK, this game is being played in Orlando … and that city’s most famous – or at least arguably, most famous – resident pulled out of the Arnold Palmer tournament this weekend … so I gotta ask: you think Rick Pitino seeks out Eldrick T. Woods, for advise on fat, ugly waitresses to nail on top of the dining room table at various Orlando area dining establishments?  Is this the real reason Eldrick T. pulled out (hee hee, he said “pulled out”) of the tournament, was to help his ol’ pal Ol’ Rick score some repulsive tail?  Look out, Orlando area Perkins and Bob Evans – Rick Pitino is gunning for you!

6 UMass over 11 Tennessee.  Has UMass made a tournament since John Calipari and Marcus Camby went bye-bye back in 1996?  I ask in all seriousness.  I truly have no idea.

3 Duke over 14 Mercer.  At least it’s not Lehigh.

10 Arizona State over 7 Texas.  Hey, it’s Underachieving Coaches Bowl 2014!  Barnes!  Sendek!  Only on … whatever network this is airing on!

2 Michigan over 15 Wofford.  It’s been nearly a full calendar year, and I still have nightmares of Trey Burke’s miraculous forty foot three pointer to force overtime last year against KU.  Of course, it’s been seventeen calendar years, and I still wake up screaming in utter horror at least four times a year, reliving 4th and 6 against denver in the 1997 Divisional Round.  The lesson?  Damned if I know.

The Round of Thirty Two:

1 Wichita State over 9 Kansas State.  Yo, Bill Self – dare to play BOTH of these teams, going forward.  You don’t “lose” anything, by playing a top flight team, or a rival.  Everyone GAINS.  Seriously folks, it is indefensible that KU and MU don’t play at Arrowhead every September, don’t play at Sprint Centre every New Year’s Day, and KU and Wichita don’t play on campus every November.  Seriously folks, it is indefensible … (pause) … my God, this IS indefensible.  Hang on.

On behalf of Stevo’s Site Numero Dos, and its (likely) intoxicated lead writer, I apologize to you that we’re almost eight pages into this post, and the Vice President of the United States, has yet to check in.  THAT?  Is indefensible.  Mr. Biden, if you will please.


Thank you sir.  Let’s just hope Chuck Graham, state senator from the great state of Missouri, is in the house, to watch this game play out.

4 Louisville over 12 NC State.  The gutless chicken sh*t cowards pick, of this bracket.  NC State can win this game, and I actually think they will.  I just don’t have the balls, to predict it.

3 Duke over 6 UMass.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

2 Michigan over 10 Arizona State.  Has it really been twenty six years, since Ol’ Bo Schembeckler fired Bill Frieder for taking the ASU job, because “Michigan will be coached by a Michigan man” in the tournament?  Holy crap, I am old.

The Round of Sixteen:

1 Wichita State over 4 Louisville.  Or NC State.  Either way, the Shockers roll on.

3 Duke over 2 Michigan.  Has it really been twenty three years, since the Fab Five got rolled by Duke in the national title game?  Twenty three years since Duke / Kentucky, the greatest collegiate game ever played?  Twenty four years since Duke stunned the world, and beat UNLV, unbeaten, untied, 34-0 and unstoppable UNLV, in arguably the biggest upset in tournament history?  Has it really been twenty four years since Thomas Hill damned near decapitated the KU defender on a tomahawk alley-oop dunk?  Good God, there are people old enough to drink, who weren’t alive for any of those classic early 1990s moments! 

The Elite Eight:

3 Duke over 1 Wichita State.  Just like the last unbeaten team to enter the tourney lost to Duke, so will this one.

Indianapolis Regional Champions: The University of Duke Blue Devils.

The Final Four:

Memphis Champion VCU over New York City Champion Virginia.  How great is this undercard going to be?  (The answer: pretty damned great).

Indianapolis Champion Duke over Anaheim Champion Creighton.  And how great is this main event going to be?  The whitest university in America, against the best white guy to play ball since Jeff Boschee!  (I kid, I kid – Doug McDermott is the best since Chris Mullen.  And God, that was twenty nine years ago, when the Big East had not one, not two, but three, of the Final Four berths.)

The National Championship Game:

Duke over VCU.  I picked Duke to win it all in 2010, because I just became irrationally infatuated with Jon Scheyer.  It worked.  I pick Duke to win it all in 2014, because watching Jabari Parker play, I feel that irrational infatuation all over again.  (dick vitale voice) This kid is special!  And I mean special!


NCAA National Champions: The University of Duke Blue Devils.

Thursday, March 13, 2014

a site preview for the next week

(scott hall voice) Hey ... yo.

(this is where he'd choke on his toothpick ...)

I apologize for the lack of posting so far this year.  I offer no defense, other than, you know, I am the entire (bleeping) accounting department in "company I work for".  It's me, only me, and nobody else than me (for another ten days.  And then, finally, help is on its way!  (Pause).  And those of you who know me best, know I do not believe coincidence.  Of COURSE the person hired to help me is named Dusty.  Dios con mio.)

So here's what coming in the next 6-7 days, since (gasp!) I actually am taking some legitimate PTO next week!  No, not a "burn the day and log in three times just because" PTO day -- a legitimate, credible, "I'm leaving the laptop at work for a week" PTO day!  Yay me!  I haven't had one of those since June 2012, sadly enough.  I'm gonna embrace this next week like it was the greatest thing since wine in a box!

* a fake mailbag four weeks in the making.  In the interest of full disclosure, a few (allegedly) legitimate questions and (allegedly) legitimate answers have yet to fail to make me laugh out loud, when proofing where it's at so far.

* my "cd review" of Eric Church's new album, "The Outsiders".  (In the interest of full disclosure, Mr. Church is one of my four favorite artists at this current time, along with Brantley Gilbert, Gavin DeGraw, and MGMT.  (And to think people actually ask why I'm in charge of the playlist for tailgating.  Really?)  The last time I saw Mr. Church in concert, this happened.  I'll just simply say, nothing on his latest effort, approaches the greatness from that hot as hell August night at Sandstone three years ago.

* "The World's Longest NCAA Tournament Prediction Post", which should check in at about 22 pages when it's all said and done ... at least 2 of which will be devoted to mocking Duke University.

* and if anything else strikes me, I might post a quick comment or fifty on it.

My last two weeks have been damned close to unbearable, and I have one more day from hell to endure tomorrow at the job.  Then I get a couple weeks to breathe, before the annual audit kicks into high gear and steals me away for another two months.

Until then, I give you ... my single favorite and funniest moment of all time.  Ladies and Gentlemen, Vice President Joseph Robinette Biden Junior:



There's comedy, there's high comedy ... and then there's the Vice President of the United States telling a quadrapalegic to "stand up".

Enjoy the second funnest weekend of March, everyone -- conference tourney weekend.  Because the best weekend of March -- hell, the best weekend of the year until Indy 500 time -- starts in less than a week ...

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

chiefs! colts! part dos! where once again, we've been there, done that ...

“Girl, you and me?  
Ain’t talking much.
I just slam the door,
And leave in my truck.

There ain’t nothing left for us –
I think enough’s?  Enough.

I look down, see your name
There on my phone.
Then I hit ignore,
And just drive on.

We’ve been living like this too long;
And there ain’t no reason,
To turn around.
Baby?  You can have it all …

Well I ain’t, I ain’t, coming back!
I’ve already been there, done that!
And I’m done with you messing with my mind;
The last time’s, the last time, baby!

I can only change who I am so much!
And all I can give is all my love!
But my love ain’t never been enough,
So I ain’t coming back –

I’ve been there, done that! …”

“Been There, Done That” by Luke Bryan.  No, do NOT read into the theme of the post, what isn’t there.  I’ve not only renewed my season ticket … I bought the second one again, to ensure someone has to suffer next to me every game next season.  Cue my brother and/or Damien dropping the “aw, sh*t!  That’s me five times!” agony of regret voice in five … four … three …

--------------------

Well, it only took me seven weeks of nightly therapy with Stevo's Site Numero Dos' Official Minister, the Rev. Al K. Hall, to finally recap the Chiefs / Colts wildcard game.  If you missed the recap of everything up to kickoff, you can click here for Part Uno.

The sad thing is, I remember every damned detail of that second half like it happened yesterday.  Mind you, 92.54% of the time, I couldn't remember what I had for lunch today*.  But the last 25 minutes of that game, played out over two of the most excruciating hours of my life?  I'll never forget.  Well, at least until years of therapy with Rev. Hall finally make me senile.

As for the game recap itself, I'm going to simply make notes of what I was thinking when the play I bring up occurred.  Because again, I will never forget damned near any aspect of this game, for as long as I live.

(*: for the record, I had a BLT sandwich on a crossaint, a cup of twice baked potato soup, and a Gold Peak Iced Tea in the 52 oz QuikTrip cup.  Cost me a whopping $6.52.  A freaking steal!)

* "Oh sh*t." -- me, to noone in particular, when I received a text from Damien that Jamaal Charles had suffered a concussion, and his return was doubtful.

I mean, are you kidding me?  (dick vitale voice) Are you kidding me?!?!  First series, only the sixth play of the game, and the franchise goes down?  From my seat (in the end zone the Chiefs were driving towards on that play), it looked like a typical running play off the right end.  Handoff, gain seven, tackle.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

Only Jamaal Charles was just laying there.  And he wasn't moving.

Don't believe me?


(25 has fallen, and he can't get up.  Photo: either me or Mona, via the Canon digital camera.)

As if that wasn't bad enough -- the fear and doubt I was beginning to fear, reached full-on panic mode, when Ty (the Colts fan next to me) asked "who's your backup (to Charles)?", and the thought of Knile "Fumble" Davis now being our featured back became reality.  Admit it -- even the most die-hard of Chiefs fan, even the most irrationally confident Chiefs fan, a fan who never believes the Chiefs are going to lose, even if they have no chance to win (hey, that's me!), even they had to choke the panic down.

Once Jamaal reached the sidelines, I have to admit, I loved that "Fat" Andy Reid and Doug Pederson (the offensive coordinator) immediately called the next play for Knile "Fumble" Davis.  Davis had a couple touches on the drive, and the drive ended on a beautiful Dwayne Bowe touchdown pass, to put the Chiefs up early 7-0.

* "These guys couldn't stop up a toilet, let alone this offense." -- me, to noone in particular, after Andrew Luck carved up the Chiefs on the Colts first drive.

Here, the play by play (via NFL's GameCenter) of the Colts first drive:

* Short pass for 12 yards.
* Short pass for 5 yards.
* Short pass for 24 yards.
* Short pass for no gain.
* Short pass for 18 yards.
* Short pass for 5 yards.
* Short pass for 10 yards and the touchdown.

Notice a pattern there?  Everything Luck threw on that drive was a short, quick pass ... and our defense allowed decent gains on all but one of those plays.

Also, notice another pattern there?  Zero runs.  The Colts threw out there right from the start how they were going to play this game -- namely, they were going to throw early, and often.  Not a hint of a running game.  In the Colts defense, as Ty noted: "Trent Richardson is not good."  No.  No he's not.

Tied at 7, 10 minutes in.  Neither team's defense had forced a negative play yet -- the only play that hadn't gained yardage on either side, was the tackle for no gain.  It was still a completed pass, just a good tackle.  A sign of things to come -- namely, that this was going to be a classic, where the last team with the ball, wins.

Just like every other damned playoff game we've lost to these guys over the last twenty years.

* "This is a mistake that will bite us in the ass." -- me, to noone in particular, when Ryan Succup attempted (successfully) a 19 yard field goal try, from the Colts one yard line, on the ensuing drive.

There's only one time when kicking from the one, isn't a mistake, and that's if it is (a) for all intents and purposes, the final play of the game, and (b) you're either tied, down one, or down two.  Otherwise, you go for it.  Every time. 

I'd like to say I was clairvoyant, prescient, or psychic with that statement.  But when you simply identify reality as it exists, it's not really stunning to be proven right.

Chiefs 10, Colts 7, waning moments of the 1st Quarter.

* "Holy sh*t!  Is that ... holy sh*t!  Donnie Avery!  I thought he was dead or something!" -- me, to noone in particular, on his 79 yard touchdown bomb to open the second quarter.

So wait -- you're telling me that Donnie Avery, a man who dropped every damned ball thrown in his direction all season long, a man who struggles to get separation from any even semi-competent member of the secondary, and a man not exactly known for blazing speed, somehow, someway, gets behind the Colts defense, catches Alex Smith's beyond beautiful bomb in stride twenty yards down the field, and there isn't a Colts defender within a six zip code radius to tackle him?  That Donnie Avery?  Really? 

Let's just say, I took this as a good sign.  A very good sign.  And it was about to get better.

Chiefs 17, Colts 7, opening moments of the 2nd Quarter.

* "God d*mmit!  (Pounds, and I mean POUNDS, seat in front of him.)  You worthless piece of f*cking sh*t!  I f*cking hate you!  I F*CKING HATE YOU!  (Pounds, and I mean POUNDS, seat in front of him.)  Bench his ass!  Bench!  His!  Mother!  F*cking!  Ass!" (Pounds, and I mean POUNDS, seat in front of him.)  -- Ty, after Trent Richardson, on his first carry of the game, which turned out to be his only carry of the game, and the first play after the Avery touchdown, promptly puts the ball on the ground.  Justin Houston recovers the fumble, and returns it to the Colts 17.

Let's just say, Ty is not a member of the Trent Richardson Fan Club.

Oh, and I love people who irrationally react / over-react, to anything their team does. 

After a Knile Davis 13 yard run, Alex Smith hits Anthony Sherman in the center of the end zone, who holds on through the jarring hit. 

Chiefs 24, Colts 7, not even two minutes into the 2nd Quarter.

* “That might be the most brilliant play call I’ve seen all year.  (Pause.)  (Pounds, and I mean POUNDS, seat in front of him.)  Brilliant!” – me, to Ty, Russ, Mona, and anyone else in the listening vicinity, after Andrew Luck pulls off one of, if not the, greatest fake handoffs I’ve ever seen, on 4th and 1 at midfield, midway through the 2nd quarter.

I don’t even know where to begin on this play, other than to note, it was so brilliantly called, so brilliantly executed, so (bleeping) brilliant …

… that the Chiefs stole this EXACT PLAY, and used it two quarters later, on their own “4th and 1, going for it”, with the game in the balance.

Andrew Luck faked the handoff offtackle to Trent Richardson.  The play fake was so gorgeous, every person in the stadium fell for it, including 21 of the 22 guys on the freaking field of play.  There was no blocking in front of Mr. Luck.  No guard pulling, no tackle pulling, not even a tight end setting a screen.

It was Andrew Luck, at the line of scrimmage, seeing the sell-out for the middle draw or offtackle, deciding “screw it, I can do this”, and executing perfection for 21 yards.

The Colts kicked a field goal.  Chiefs 24, Colts 10, mid 2nd Quarter.

And in case you doubt me as to this play’s brilliance?

When was the last time I EVER credited the “enemy”, with brilliance?

* "If we win this game, I will publically thank peyton manning, for making last week a glorified scrimmage." -- me, to Russ and Mona, after Knile Davis pounds it in, capping a gorgeous 15 play, 80 yard, 8 minute drive, to put the Chiefs up 31-10 right after the two minute warning.

Knile Davis starting, and having a solid day the week before, against a team in a "win and you're in" situation, at home to boot, certainly did wonders for his confidence.  That confidence boosting performance was only possible, because peyton manning beat the Chiefs twice, and relegated us to Wildcardville.  Hence my appreciation.

Also, and here's your trivia fact of the post: 28 minutes into this game, the Chiefs have just matched the most points they've ever scored in a playoff game in franchise history.  Ironically, that 31 point outing?  January 11, 2004, against ... the Indianapolis Colts.

Just like that 2004 afternoon, the Chiefs had yet to punt.  Five possessions, four touchdowns, and a field goal that would come back to bite us in the ass.  I'd argue that first half, may have been not just the most impressive of the season ... it might be the single most impressive first half of football in franchise history.  And the Chiefs will play Year Fifty Five next season.

* "God d*mmit!  You would pick this day to deliver your first horsesh*t performance!" -- Ty, after Andrew Luck threw an interception to Brandon Flowers, to all but end the first half.

I have to confess, I was thinking the same thing.  I've seen Luck play in person twice prior to this game, and watched him quite a few times on TV.  This was by far and away the worst performance of his career.

Chiefs 31, Colts 10, Halftime.

* "USA!  USA!  USA!" -- Lucas Oil Stadium crowd, as halftime ended.

Your halftime performance was the US Marine Corps Drill Team.  It was awesome.  Not "Shawsome", but close enough.

* "(Cue the "If Looks Could Kill, Andrew Luck Would Be Deader Than A Doornail Right Now" death stare.)" -- Ty, after Andrew Luck opens the half by throwing an interception to Husain Abdullah, to open the second half.

To Mr. Abdullah's credit, that was NOT an easy interception.  To Andrew Luck's detriment, that pass wasn't within three feet of his target.

Three plays later, Knile Davis catches a wheel route right, and rumbles ten yards to the end zone for the touchdown.  At the risk of giving the ending away, keep this play in mind.  File this bad boy under the "we're coming back to this in a few paragraphs ... ok, fine pages" department.  Because we are coming back to it.

Chiefs 38, Colts 10, six seconds into the second half.

* "(Cue the "Stand There, Both Arms Stretched Straight Up To the Sky, With a Gigantic Sh*t Eating, "This Isn't Happening!" Look of Joy and Happiness" Reaction.)" -- me, after the Knile Davis touchdown.

I can't help it folks.  I sincerely, genuinely and sincerely believed, that was the ballgame.  I sincerely, genuinely and sincerely believed, that was the "Dandy" Don Meredith "Turn Out the Lights, The Party's Over" Memorial Moment of Ecstasy.

In the words of my buddy Pickell, “put it this way”: our group of Chiefs fans was so confident this game was over, we made the decision that if either (a) the Colts didn’t score on the ensuing drive, or (b) the Chiefs scored again in the next five minutes, we were leaving, to avoid Snowmageddon 2014 on the way later that evening.

Let that sink in, especially to those of you who know me best.  I was so confident that the Chiefs were going to win their first playoff game since I was a junior in high school (and I turned 37 on this road trip for God’s sake), that I was perfectly prepared to celebrate the fourth quarter, getting the hell out of Indy before Sherman’s troops stormed the gates of the city.

The lesson?  As always, if I’m THAT confident about something …


(photo credit: me or Mona, via the Canon digital camera.  No, that score, time, and quarter is NOT a typo ... and yes, there was that much red, inside the stadium.)

* Ooh, a back-and-forth!

“How the hell does (Rogers) get so open?” – Ty.
“Because our secondary is leakier than a baby without a diaper.” – Me.

The Colts answer, quickly, which is going to become the theme of the second half at this point, the rapid-fire response of Indy to everything the Chiefs did.

Down 28, in the second half, you have to press.  Indy moved 80 yards in less than two minutes, capping a drive that saw a 50 yard completion with a 10 yard draw play that the lane up the middle was so unclogged, Drano should have sponsored said draw play.

Chiefs 38, Colts 17, 12 minutes to go in the 3rd Quarter.  And things are about to get interesting.

* “If that’s a recovery, I don’t know this sport.” – me, after Alex Smith was ruled to have fumbled (which he did), but the officiating crew ruled the Colts recovered the fumble before falling out of bounds.

If it wasn’t for the “wait for it, we’re coming back to it” play from a few paragraphs ago, to say nothing of the “once in a generation” play that kept Indy in this thing still to come?

THIS is the moment that would haunt me.

Because Robert Mathis’ ass was CLEARLY lying on the gigantic white stripe signaling “sideline”, when he finally corralled the fumble.  This wasn’t a Chiefs / raiders 1997 Monday Nighter, when the announcers were so befuddled by what passes as a NFL stadium in oakland, that they openly admitted they could not find “the definition of the sideline”. 

His ass.  Was lying.  On the sideline.  When he recovered the fumble.

Maybe the white on white befuddled Walt Anderson’s crew.  Because Walt is amongst what I would consider to be the four best head ref’s in the NFL today (along with, in no particular order, Gene Stenatore, Bill Leavy, and and Terry McAuley (who worked this year’s Super Bowl, deservedly so).)  But this was inexcusable.

Again – Robert Mathis’ ass was lying on the white “chalk” of the sideline, when he recovered the fumble.

Replay upheld the fumble recovery for Indy.

If it wasn’t for two moments yet to occur, this one would haunt me to my grave.

Instead, it just led to a short field touchdown.

Chiefs 38, Colts 24, midway through the 3rd Quarter.  This game just got interesting.

* “Are you sh*tting me!  Are you sh*tting me?!?!?!  (Looks to the roof in utter frustration and anger.)  Are you f*cking sh*tting me!” – Ty, after Andrew Luck throws his third interception of the game, still trailing 38-24.

The Colts forced a three and out after the touchdown.  When, as Russ kept taunting him, “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky!” threw his second “first play from scrimmage interception” of the half, once again to Husain Abdullah. 

Just when you think Indy got back into it?

We had the chance to deliver a knockout blow.

The Chiefs settle for a three and out field goal.  Yet another “Golden Toe” missed opportunity to put this bad boy to the grave.

Chiefs 41, Colts 24, 19 minutes to play.

* “He’s more wide open than a fly at a gay bar!” – Ty, to me, after Coby Fleener caught a touchdown pass to pull the Colts to within 10.

Screw that.  (Pause.)  Yeah, gotta do it.  (Pause.) 

(Rimshot!)

He was so wide open, Madonna is jealous.  (Pause.)  Fine.  (Rimshot!)

He was so wide open, the Grand Canyon wants it’s opening back.

Your culprit on the play?

Husain Abdullah*.

Of COURSE it’d be Husain Abdullah, the dude who had two Luck INT’s in ten minutes.

I’ve said it before … I said it on January 4th … and I’ll say it again …

* “Only the Chiefs could find a way, to lose this game.” – me, countless times to countless people, as “The Collapse” was occurring.

(*: without question, my favorite moment of the season, was “The Voice of Reason” dropping the “name one person with a Muslim sounding name, that isn’t a Muslim” blast at the Chargers tailgate.  My immediate response?  “Barack Hussein Obama”.  I don’t have to be proud of that … but damn if it ain’t accurate.)

* “Lord, you can take me now, I have seen it all!” – Dan Dierdorf, on October 17, 1994, in the greatest Monday Night Football game ever played (Chiefs 31, donkeys 28, at Real Mile High).

Fine, I quoted that in a bastardized way, as the Chiefs, backed up to the goalline, facing a crucial do or die stand, up ten, early in the 4th quarter, actually came through.  Eric Berry forced the fumble, from someone other than Trent Richardson to boot. 

Eric Berry forced the fumble.  For the fifth time that afternoon, the defense had separated the ball from the Colts offense.  The prior four separations, the Chiefs recovered, and posted 24 points on the board because of them.

Then ... came numero cinco.

* "God f*cking d*mmit!  (Pounds, and I mean POUNDS, seat in front of him.)  God f*cking d*mmit!" -- me, to noone in particular, as Andrew Luck picked up the fumble, off the center's helmet, and went diving over the offensive line into the end zone.

There are moments, plays, in your life as a sports fan, that you look back on, and just shake your head in disgust at.  As Chiefs fans, we have our fair share.  You tell me – (oskar schindler voice) you tell me! – which of these plays from the last 20 years, all of which have seen the Chiefs fail to win even one playoff game, hurt the most:

* pick a field goal attempt by Lin Elliott, vs Colts, 1995 Divisional Round.
* 4th and 6 incompletion to Lake Dawson, vs broncos, 1997 Divisional Round.
* missed field goal from 44 by Pete Stoyanovich, vs raiders, 1999 week 17.
* pick a defensive series, vs Colts, 2003 Divisional Round.
* 4th and goal, at Cowboys, 2005 week 14.
* first play of overtime (bomb to heyward-bey), vs raiders, 2011 week 16.
* the Andrew Luck fumble recovery, 2013 Wildcard Round.

And in fairness, I left out about 15,320 other plays from the last 20 years, that lead you to scream in horror.

For the record, the third in that listing, hurts me the most.  But damn, seeing Andrew Luck recover that fumble, and take it to the house, hurt a lot.

Especially my hand, and that poor, poor chair in row 2 in front of me.

Chiefs 41, Colts 38, ten minutes to play, 4th Quarter.

* “Win or lose?  We’ve got our franchise quarterback.  Maybe.  Possibly.  OK, hopefully.  But still, this is the best played game by a Chiefs quarterback I’ve ever had the privilege to attend!” – me, to Ty, after Alex Smith kept marching the Chiefs down the field, after the Luck Fumblerooskie touchdown.

I actually want to back up a bit, to the play that I feel swung the ballgame once and for all to the Colts.  To be honest, until I verified how I remembered things via the NFL GameCenter thingy, I honestly though that play, occurred on the ensuing drive after the Luck fumble recovery touchdown.  Turns out, it happened the drive before.

The play?  Recycled from the second quarter.  A wheel route right to the running back, wide open in the flat.  In the second quarter, Knile Davis caught the ball and sprinted for six.

In the fourth quarter, Cyrus Gray was open.  He was WIDE open.  The pass was there … for Knile Davis, or Jamaal Charles.  But Mr. Gray just isn’t fast enough, to make the play work.

When that pass fell incomplete, I just knew, somehow, that would kill us.  We can debate whether kicking the 19 yard field goal in the second quarter was the fatal play call (I think it was), but this missed opportunity?

Was crucial.

And yet, despite the Luck, uuh, “lucky” touchdown, despite the crowd noise*, despite the feeling of surging Colts momentum / fading Chiefs hopes, there was Alex Smith, somehow keeping his head amidst the chaos surrounding him.  Calmly, methodically, driving the Chiefs down the field.

Oh, and the Chiefs are now down to their third string running back, because Knile Davis suffered a gruesome injury on the second play of this drive, that ended his season, and I pray to God it doesn’t end the promising career he had entering that play, based on his incredible efforts at San Diego and Indy those last two games.

Because five minutes later, after two clutch third down conversions via some pretty throws (especially the pass over the center to Jenkins that went for almost 30 on 3rd and 5, an obvious passing down, Ryan Succup had delivered yet again.  Three for three on field goals.  On the road.  In the nuthouse that Lucas Oil Stadium had become.

Chiefs 44, Colts 38, 5:36 to play.

(*: I will give Colts fans this.  And those of you who know me best, know I rarely if ever compliment the enemy’s fans.  NOBODY left at 38-10.  NOBODY.  Every Colts fan in that building truly believed Andrew Luck could pull off, what he pulled off.  That’s what having a franchise quarterback, can do for you.  For what it’s worth, I think the Chiefs found theirs, in defeat.

And if you don't believe me nobody left -- go back to the previous picture, at 38-10 in the second half, and you identify a single empty seat, in the 600 (aka "nose bleed") section of the end zone opposite where I sat.  Good luck finding one.)

* “Too much time.  We left you too much time.” – me, to Ty, after the Succup field goal put the Chiefs up six.

Given that it only took Andrew Luck one minute and fifteen seconds to lead the Colts to their sixth touchdown on the day, I’d say that was an understatement.

As soon as Luck launched that bomb to TY Hilton, both Ty (the guy next to me) and I literally screamed the same thing.  “Jesus, he’s open!”  That collapse by the secondary (and I believe Marcus Cooper was on the coverage, but it may have been Dunta Robinson), was the straw that should have broke the camel’s back. 

Which is why Ty’s reaction to that play, still makes me smile … in a “God bless it, he was right …” kind of way.

* “We left YOU too much time!” – Ty, to me, before the kickoff after the Colts took a 45-44 lead with 4:20 to play.

And for three plays, I thought he was right.  Alex Smith was calmly, methodically, driving the Chiefs down the field.  It took two plays to cross midfield.  By the third play, a 1st and 10 run for 3 by Cyrus Gray, the Chiefs were at what I thought was the outer limits of Ryan Succup’s reach, the Indy 39.  It’d have been 57 from there.  Indoors, you try it if you don’t gain another yard.  Because you’re only down one, and, gee, uum, let me turn to another Chiefs “expert”, to explain why you’d try the field goal from 57, if it came to it.

(“The Voice of Reason” voice) IT’S THE PLAYOFFS!

Then came the fourth play.

(walt anderson voice) “Intentional grounding, number 11, offense …”

I have rewatched this play at least 54,362 times in the last seven weeks.

I have yet to see a shred of evidence, that Alex Smith’s arm was not mauled, like a grizzley bear eating a salmon, as he attempted that second down pass.

I have rarely been as irate at a call, as I was at that one.  Especially since it took Walt Anderson almost thirty seconds to decide to throw the flag, after the play was effectively over.

I know some Chiefs fans have focused on the atrocious timeout strategory of “Fat” Andy Reid.  And I don’t mean to discredit the criticism; nobody, and I mean NOBODY, hates incompetent clock management than me.

But honestly?  It’s 4th and 11.  The season is on the line.  You use your final timeout to get the play as right as humanly possible.

And if we’re being honest?  If I was in “Fat” Andy Reid’s position, facing 4th and 11 at the Colts 43?  I’d call the timeout too …

… because I would seriously have contemplated trotting Ryan Succup out there, to try the 61 yard field goal.

And not only would I seriously have contemplated it …

* “If “Fat” Andy called this timeout to send in Succup, he’s earned his salary.” – me, to noone in particular, as the Chiefs called a timeout, while in the two minute warning timeout.

I will admit, I was having flashbacks to one of the greatest games in Chiefs history, donkeys at Chiefs, week 12 1997.  The “Pete for President” Game.  The “I Love You Man!” Game.  The “I Don’t Think (This Kick) Saved the Season; I Didn’t Know the Season Needed To Be Saved!” Game.

Just like Dick Gannon went back to that five yard out pattern to Andre Rison, to get just close enough for Marty and his braintrust to haul out their Fidelity Ad guy voice and decide “why not!” … the third down play to McCluster, to get the Chiefs to within a 60 yard attempt, was giving me flashbacks to the greatest season of my lifetime.

Cue the season on the line.

* “Sh*t!  He’s open!” – Ty, as that fourth down play opened.

Yes, yes Dwayne Bowe – who turned in his finest day as a pro – was open.

* “Sh*t!  He overthrew it!” – me, as that fourth down pass was thrown.

Because it was overthrown … although to be fair, the Colts defender had closed to defendable range, by the time the ball hit its downward descent.

And with that, the Chiefs season died.

And with that, the misery that would be the next 10 hours of my existence, began.

* “We’ll deal with this in six months, with a case of beer and a day on the lake.” – my buddy Ryan, as we all headed back to our cars after the game.

It’s not exactly a closely guarded government state secret, that the person I used to consider to be my best friend (that would be “The Champ”) and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms anymore.  Three weeks ago, I had to attend a funeral for a former co-worker of ours’ family member, and while riding out to the service, my former boss Lucy asked “so, what’s up with you guys?”

My response was “we’re both too arrogant, stupid, and stubborn, to admit we were wrong.”  Which is true.  Dusty and I are more dug in, than Lee and Grant at Petersburg, at this point.  (Which is not a good thing.  And I once again apologize to those of you trapped in the middle.  Again, I will never make you pick a side.  You have my promise.  Which is probably more worthless than the Confederate dollar when Grant pinned Lee down at Petersburg, but still.)

If you’d told me ten months ago, that a dude I called “Moses”, because (a) I am horrible with names, and (b) when he had his full on beard up until this year, he sorta kinda looked like Moses, or at least a refugee from "Duck Dynasty", if you’d told me a tailgating friend would come to mean what Ryan has, I’d have laughed.

If I’ve learned anything in the last four months … it’s that God sometimes works in ways that only make sense to Him.

(Pause).

No wonder I’m starting to reconsider my long-standing objection to religion of any kind, being an influence in my life.

Speaking of a long-standing objection of something that turned out to be a major influence on this road trip ...

* “Let me be clear: if you are here Sunday morning?  You will still be here Tuesday night.  Prepare accordingly.” – the Mayor of Indianapolis, Saturday morning / afternoon / evening.

Let’s just say, he wasn’t bluffing.

It was a traffic jam from hell, to get out of downtown Indy, come 9pm ET on Saturday, January 4.

It took us almost 90 minutes, to get out of the parking garage we paid $55 to park in that day.  A parking garage, mind you, that was owned by the hotel we had paid $143 to stay in the night before, and ate $143 to get the hell out of town ahead of Sherman’s troops, that very day.

Let me put it this way: I’ve been to a few Indy 500’s in my day.  Post Indy 500, is nothing to fear.  You have the holiday built in.  Nobody leaves on Sunday, unless you live within a couple hours of Indy.  Otherwise, you stick around, enjoy the evening, and have a whole day to head home the following day.  (For all my current frustrations with “The Champ”, the roadie to Indy for the 2006 500 will probably always be my favorite roadie.  The present, and utter lack of a future, doesn’t change the past.)

The Brickyard, it’s somewhat different, given that there’s no built in holiday the day after.  But still, you can usually get out of town by 7pm local time (6pm KC time), and roll into the driveway by 2am, to at least get 4-5 hours of sleep, to recover for Monday.

This game?  Ended at 8:15pm Indy time (7:15 Kansas City time).  We didn’t get on I-70 until almost 9:30 Indy time (8:30 Kansas City time).  There were three groups of us departing: me, Russ and Mona; Ryan, Ron and Michelle; and Terry and his crew. 

Terry and his guys got out first.  We got a call from them at mile marker 48* that there was a massive wreck ahead. 

The weather at that point, wasn’t terrible.  It was drizzling, but still above freezing.  Snowmaggedon 2014 had yet to truly descend on central USA. 

We made it to St. Louis in normal time, with not much more than an occasional rain drop or snowflake hitting the windshield. 

Then came the moment, as my dad would so classily put it …

* “Piss, or get off the pot.” – my dad.

(*: for those of you who have never been to Indy, mile marker 69 is where you get onto North 465 to go to Indianapolis Motor Speedway.  Mile marker 79 (West Street) is where our hotel was.)

* “Stay, or go?” – Mona, as I paid to fill up the Jimmy, at a gas station in beautiful O’Fallon, Missouri, pushing 11:30 on Sunday night.

Our goal was to make St. Louis.  If we could get to St. Louis, we had all day Sunday to get home.  (Note: as fate would turn out, and damn if fate don’t always bite me in the ass, I got a phone call, text message, and email at 9:47 that Sunday night, that my employer was closed that Monday due to the extreme cold, and the massive snowfall, KC got that Sunday.  So we left early for nothing.  Although as I noted in Part Uno way back seven weeks ago, I work with a guy, Jarow, Chiefs season ticket holder.  He and his son were at the game.  They stayed.  They got back about 1am Wednesday.)

So we’d made St. Louis.

Now what?

We headed next door to the McDonalds, ordered some food, and it was now definitely decision time.

I pulled up the forecast and current conditions on my iPhone.  It was 36 and doing nothing in St. Louis.  It was 6 and snowing in Columbia … but 27 and doing nothing in Kingdom City.  (Yes, the place where the McDonalds has a freaking shark tank.  Mile marker 147.  I can remember that off the top of my head, and I could not possibly tell you, what I had for dinner tonight.  God bless it.)

We decided to at least try for Columbia.  Or …

* “Even if we have to stay in some (undesirable location) tonight, we’re that much closer to home tomorrow.” – Russ, in deciding to make the break for it, while enjoying his McChicken sandwich and fries.

Fine -- "undesirable location" was said as "f*cked up sh*thole".

The ride from O’Fallon to Kingdom City, was uneventful, except for one thing.

The temp deal in the Jimmy said 36 degrees, when we headed out.

It read -6, when we hit Kingdom City an hour later.

And then, the “fun” began.

* “I70 conditions so white right now youd think kkk convention hijacked freeway!” – me, via text message, when we hit Kingdom City.

My favorite road trip of all time, is when Dusty and I went to the Indy 500 in 2006.

On that trip home, when we left Indy early on Memorial Day, it was already pushing 90 degrees.  We stopped in St. Louis for gas, and it was in the low 100s.

We stopped in Columbia* for lunch at the Hooters on the far east side of town, it was still pushing 100.

When we emerged through Columbia** an hour later, it was in the 50s and pouring down rain, the rest of the way home.

That is sorta, kinda, what it felt like, going from St. Louis to Columbia*** this time.  It was bearable in St. Louis.  It was not only below zero, it was snowing so hard, you couldn’t see 300 feet in front of you, when you reached Columbia****, on the ride home from Indy on this trip.

But Mona was determined to get home. 

(*: Columbia, Missouri: the eighth layer of hell!)
(**: Columbia, Missouri: the eighth layer of hell!)
(***: Columbia, Missouri: the eighth layer of hell!)
(****: Columbia, Missouri: “Call (your arena) whatever you want to, it will ALWAYS be Allen Field House East!)

* “We’re 100 miles from home.  We’re going home!” – Mona, emerging from Columbia.

* “Or die trying.” – me, responding to the comment above.

It’s minus six degrees, and snowing so hard, you can’t see 300 feet in front of you.

The 116 miles, from eastern Columbia to Noland Road, was the second most frightening ride of my life.

The most frightening, was headed from Cincy to St. Louis, after the Bengals game in 2003.  “The Voice of Reason” and I have been on enough roadies to know fear.  That drive, from Louisville to Cincinnati, down I-64 through the Ohio River Valley, is the most scared I’ve ever been in my life inside of an automobile.  Two words: “freezing fog”.  I was scared to move at 30mph, the visibility was so bad as you descended through Illinois towards our final destination for the night in South St. Louis.

The 116 miles from Columbia to the outskirts of KC?

Were a damned close second.

We reached Columbia a little before 1am on that Sunday.  I’ve made the overnight drive / ride from Indy to KC many times after the Brickyard.  It should take, at most, another 90 minutes.

Come 4:27am, that 116 mile trek finally ended, with the exit onto Noland Road, as the semi in front of us gave up, and pulled onto the side of what was left of visibility on the freeway.  210 minutes to make a 116 mile trek. 

I’m pretty sure, the pressure marks from where what was left of my fingernails, are still visible in the driver’s seat back, of the Jimmy. 

That was a trip I will never forget.  And not in a good way.

It took 3 ½ hours to get home from Columbia. 

If we were driving safely? 

It should have taken five.

Dios Con Mio.

* “Anything white.” – Mona, to me, when we reached the Busstead, when I asked what she wanted to drink.

* “Anything whiskey.” – Russ, to me, when we reached the Busstead, when I asked what he wanted to drink.

* “On second thought, Russ is right – ANYTHING whiskey!” – Mona, in response.

* “With or without lime?” – me, to Russ and Mona, to inquire as to the mixer (Diet Coke).

The trip ended with safety – we reached the house in Raytown shortly before 5am.  Ron called the next day – he and Ryan and Michelle didn’t have to deal with anything headed back to Springfield.  Terry and his guys called us as well the next day from Terra Haute; central Indiana was a disaster.  If anything, the news weather people undersold the storm.    

I finally fell asleep about 5:30am.  Russ poured a straight whiskey when we got back and was done fifteen minutes later.  Mona and I split a bottle of riesling and she made it maybe 20 minutes.  I cracked a second bottle, I was so ("nfl countdown" crew voice) jacked up!, from that ride home from hell.

The next thing I knew, it was noon … and I was the first one to wake up.

* “Let me know when you get in hope yall are safe!” – Gus, text to me, sometime Saturday night / Sunday morning.

* “We’re here” – me, to Gus, early Sunday morning, in response.

* “I’ll hobble the paper down!” – Gus, to me, in response.

If you don’t know Gus, well … I won’t attempt to define the guy.  He has his flaws, he has his drawbacks.  And yeah, the flaws and drawbacks aren’t great, but …

… he also has cancer -- inoperable, and probably fatal, in the next five or six months.

I happen to like the guy.  Flaws and all.  He’s the biggest NASCAR fan you’ll find.  He’s one of about six people you’ll ever meet, who could tell you who Ed Carpenter’s stepfather is, and if you zoom in on “Days of Thunder”, you can see him near the catch fence, as Cole Trickle makes his final mad dash for the win at Daytona in 1989.

He and I have a standing bet every year due to our mutual hatred of Dale Earnhardt Jr., and our disagreeable difference regarding Danica Patrick. 

(Somehow, he doesn’t hate Kasey Kahne, who is Stevo’s Site Numero Dos’ Official Favorite NASCAR* Driver.  Stuns the hell out of me, in a good way.)

He’d do anything for a friend, the single greatest quality a person can possess.

The reason he texted me?

He wanted to shovel the driveway out, as well as a pathway to said driveway down 57th Terrace, to get us in that frigid cold Sunday morning.

Is this where I mention, Gus has one leg?

That’s what he’s willing to do for a friend.

We need more people like Gus, in life.

(*: my favorite driver period is Kenny Brack.  Most people who attended the 2005 Indy 500 (hey, that’s me!), remember it for Danica taking the lead with 11 to go.  (And in the interest of fairness, I have NEVER heard a louder reaction at a sporting event, than when she passed the late, great Dan Wheldon on the restart on lap 189.  Jesus, THAT was 135 decibels.  And then some.)  Me?  I remember it as the final start of Brack’s career, a year and a half after this happened.  I’ll always be thankful I went to that race, and noone can ever take away the fact that Mr. Brack was the fastest qualifier in the field that year.)

--------------------

And so, I choose to end this.

Chiefs fans?  For twenty (bleeping) years, we’ve “been there, done that”. 

For the first time in at least sixteen of those years … I’m ok with it.

No, we didn’t win at Indy.  Yeah, the sting, the pain, of losing, is not going away anytime soon. 

But the sting, the pain?  Means this team matters again.  January 4th, 2014 hurts … because of what this team, our Chiefs, COULD have accomplished.

They have a future.

They have a purpose.

They have a destiny.

Future.  Purpose.  Destiny.

Three words we Chiefs fans couldn’t say, twelve months ago.

If “rock bottom” of the “Fat” Andy Reid / John Dorsey era, is pissing away a 28 point lead in the wildcard round at Indy, if THAT is “rock bottom”?

Sign me up … yesterday.

Because the alternative?


“Been there, done that …”

week twelve picks

The Statisticals. Last Week SU: 8-6-0. Season to Date SU: 98-62-1. Last Week ATS: 7-7-0. Season to Date ATS: 75-80-6. Last Week Upset / ...