Monday, September 8, 2014

chiefs! titans! (not a recap!) where "that was so (diety) damned cool!" happened ...

There is a theme song. 

You just have to keep reading, to get it.

Because given what the next month, month and a half means to me personally?

This needs to be said.

I think.


This, Chiefs fans, is not going to be the recap you might expect to read, the morning (ok, fine – afternoon) after what personally ranks as one of the five most insulting, pathetic, offensive “efforts” the Flawed 53 have ever subjected me to. 

I’m pissed, quite frankly, after that “performance” yesterday.

That was one of the most embarrassing, gutless, absolutely indefensible “games” the Flawed 53 have ever put on.  The Kansas City Chiefs organization should refund every person’s ticket who attended and cheered for the Red and Gold yesterday.  That?

Was something I’d expect from Kansas Football.  NOT Kanasas City Football.

Everything about those three plus hours (and I stayed until every clock in the joint read 0:00) inside the hallowed walls of Arrowhead Stadium, was nothing short of … well, I’ll let the great Jim Mora Senior, describe how I feel, about that game yesterday:

Everything Mr. Mora said nearly eighteen years ago, applies to yesterday’s game.  The Titans thoroughly whipped us, and this, folks, is NOT a good Titans team.  That effort they turned in yesterday, gets them beaten 18 out of 20 times.  They have nothing to be proud of, other than they ain't the Chiefs.  The fact that with seven minutes left, the game was still very winnable for the Chiefs, should have Ken Whizenhunt, Jake Locker, and every member of the Titans feeling frightened, for what’s going to happen the rest of the season for them.

Because the good teams in this League?

Leave Arrowhead 56-10 winners yesterday.

The Titans left 26-10.

They easily left thirty points on that field.

Nothing about that game itself, is likely to get much of a recap here today.  I know, I know – you come here to be reassured that it either (a) wasn’t as awful as it looked to you, or (b) to reinforce how awesome it looked to you.  Trust me – that was amongst the three worst games* I’ve ever attended in person.  The Chiefs stunk up the joint so badly, I was dropping “are we sure we aren’t at Oakland Alameda County Coliseum right now?**” Shecky-Greenesque one liners in the second half, to the peanut gallery in 132.

And yet … I’m not angry.

Oh, trust me – I left pissed.  And yeah, I’m disgusted by that pathetic display the Flawed 53, the Red and Gold, put on yesterday.

But one moment, upon proper reflection?

Changed everything for me, on how I will forever, view this game.

Or, as it was put to me earlier today,  just seemingly out of nowhere?

“That was so God damned cool!”


(*: it ranks third.  The second worst is denver / KC in 2002.  The worst, is what it is.)

(**: in case you’ve forgotten, there is literally sh*t in the dugouts, of the Oakland Alameda County Coliseum.  (Pause).  You’re damned right, I am the one person in life, who will never believe in coincidence.)


“If I could be the reason
Your hair is a mess?
The bass drum beating,
Way down deep in your chest?

If I could be the voice
On your radio?
Then I could be
Your long ride home ...”


The one – and probably not the only, but definitely The One – criticism I will mercilessly level against the Chiefs in this post, is this.

The parking debacle – and it was a debacle – is what you get, when you fix what isn’t broken.

You want fans to continue to help make Arrowhead what it is?

Here’s an idea – don’t charge us 2,500 points for an early-in pass, don’t broadcast in your email to those of us who purchased said early in pass that Gate 7 will open at 6:30am … and don’t have us still standing in line, at 6:48am, with said line damned near approaching the  bridge over I-70 on Stadium Drive.

Seriously, Chiefs organization?  Get a clue.  Pull in a panel of 3-4 season ticket holders who arrive before dawn, 3-4 season ticket holders who don’t tailgate, and 3-4 people who show up once or twice a year, and go with our recommendations.

Because you don’t have a freaking clue, how to manage traffic flow.

Not just based on Sunday?

But on thirty plus years, of provable evidence.


“If mine could be the name,
That changes yours?
The wine in your glass?
The swing in your porch?

The dollar in your pocket?
The peaceful in your sleep?
Then I’d be what you
Mean to me …”


This GameDay weekend ended at Ginger’s this morning, in Woodson Village in Raytown.  If you’ve never been (and prior to this morning, I somehow never had), you are missing out.

There were five of us there at breakfast this morning: my Second Parents, Tom and Nicole (two good friends in from Sioux Falls for the game), and, well, me.

If every GameDay weekend ended like this one?  Life would be even more amazing, than mine actually is. 

That omelet I had this morning – The Ginger – was beyond incredible.  I’ve (sadly) found that I’m one of the few people in life who thinks chopped tomatoes mixed into eggs, is really good stuff to eat.  

I love our grill guy at work, Kobie.  He's damned good at his job.

The first time I asked for what I like to call the "Stevo Breakfast" -- three scrambled (real) eggs, with green and red peppers, onions, and tomatoes mixed in?  He looked at me like I was nuts, for wanting tomatoes mixed in.

(Although in Kobie's defense?  I am certifiable.)

To find a place that serves a ridiculously oversized omelet – with not just tomatoes, but green and red peppers, red onion, sausage, bacon, mushrooms, and (if you want it) your choice of cheese?  Throw in not just hash browns and toast, but have the waitress ask “Do you all need anything else?  Some A1?” when she brings the order – because I am “that guy”, who douses any potato he’s enjoying with as much A1 as it can stand?

(And nobody at the table, had ordered anything, you’d expect an A1 request for?)

Is damned near perfect.

Which is what about fifteen, twenty minutes was, yesterday for me.

Damned perfect.

No near about it.

And that’s why I’ll never bitch about this game the way I should, and why I’ll never despise this game, the way I should.

Because Sunday?

Was where “that was so God damned cool!”?



“Standing here?
Watching you?
Turning every head,
In this crowded room?

The lights down low?
Dancing slow?

Oh if falling’s how you feel?
And perfect’s what you see?

Then that’d be what you
Mean to me …”


We left for the stadium a little after 6:15am.  There were a boatload of riders on The Bus; I think the final tally was 13.  We had close to forty tailgating with us before the morning was done.

Roger and Diane and Brad and their crew wound up farther down than usual.  Usually the “KC Chiefs Kick GR-ASS” Bus is next to ours.  They were an island farther down.  Which wound up perfect; we got in a couple solid games of cornhole, and it enabled Ron and Michelle and my buddy Ryan to be exactly next to us (rather than farther down, as usual).

We had a Melba and Anna sighting.  The last time I saw Melba, I was defusing a Defcon 1 situation on our annual winery tour of Hermann, that will occur in about five weeks.  (Note: I can’t wait!)  Anna was the one who I had a great five, six minute talk with, about “that one time”, the Steelers Sunday Nighter in 2011, when I was beyond sick.  I literally could not physically manage to get out of The Ex’s car. 

Anna?  Kept hopping into the back seat, to enjoy her medicinally legal product.

I had no complaints that night, or any day since, about that night.

Just like – other than on occasion in this post – you’ll never hear me bitch about yesterday.

Because yesterday?

Was where “that was so God damned cool!” happened.


Nicole made these Jalapeno poppers that were insanely good.

I have no idea what led her to believe that wrapping a chicken strip doused in Teriyaki sauce with bacon, with a few sliced jalapeno peppers stuffed between said chicken and bacon, would be a good idea … but damn, was it a good idea!

The other major menu item was Titan Tenderloin – we had some pork, some beef, some tri-tip.  

I made the mistake of making the Jello shots after we got back from the Eagles club on Saturday night.  Let this be a lesson to all you “kids” out there reading this – making Jello shots when you’re pushing .30 on a Saturday night, when you have to get up in less than seven hours?

I can do that.  Damned perfectly. 

A lil’ too much Jello in each shot container?  Probably.  But it led to, well, hell – probably the funniest one-liner I've heard all year.

When the girl Ryan brought did a round of shots with me, downed it like a champ, and then simply said the following, in referring to said Jello shot:

“Wow, that was good! 

I thought something that big? 

Would hurt going down!

Yours didn’t!”

God, I love tailgating!

And admit it …

… you do too.


“If I could be the fire
In your firefly?
The cool in the rain?
The spark in your eye?

The answer to your prayer?
The faith that sets you free?
Then that’d be what you
Mean to me …”


As for the game itself, it was awful.  I’m not going to panic over one game – and quite frankly, I’m not going to recap this one, at least today.  I refuse to watch it, and I refuse to relive it.

But I wouldn’t have missed it.

Because of a reason, that probably only makes sense to me.

Which – if you’re a regular and/or frequent reader of this site?

You know won’t be the first time, something matters to me, and nobody else, simply because I’m … well …



The second funniest moment, after the one above, had to be a conversation with Anthony and Jaimmie and Clint and the girl with him, in which we reflected back to their wedding this spring, and were talking about friendships and how long who has known whom, and when it came to Anthony and Jaimmie, I dropped the “oh come on!  You two are Cory and Topanga!  You’ve known each other since you were in diapers probably!”

Then I paused, and I followed up with “you two probably have no idea, who Cory and Topanga are, do you?”

(Note: I will be 38 in less than four months; they are 22.)

Jaimmie’s response?

“Of course I know who Cory and Topanga are!  Who doesn’t?”

Two people about halfway between me and my "Special Little Guy"'s age, knowing who Cory and Topanga are.  Ryan's latest fun fling making the comment she did.

We still haven't reached, the moment that generated, the title of this post.


The (semi) hammered, (semi) sober, shirtless dude for the second half in the middle of 132 yesterday?  Well that was me, being who I am.

I honestly thought we’d rally.  Even down 23-10 with about eight minutes left, I still thought we’d pull this out. 

Hell, even after Ryan Succup’s fourth field goal made it 26-10 with a little under three to go, I still thought we’d mount an epic comeback I’d someday tell my brother’s kids grandkids about.

The lesson?  As always, I’m a bleeping idiot.

At least Chris had the presence of mind, to leave before the debacle was over.

I witnessed every bleeping second of it.


"Standing here?
Watching you?
Turning every head
In this crowded room?

The lights down low,
Dancing slow?

Oh!  If falling's what you feel?
And perfect's what you see?
Then that'd be what you 
Mean to me ..."


It was great to see The Voice of Reason’s Dad there yesterday.

I even complimented the goatee.  (Some of us rock it awesome.  Gordon’s amongst the few of us, who do.)

Because Mr. Reason’s Father, got to experience the fifteen to twenty minutes, that made yesterday, one helluva amazing day.

He was there, to experience why my Second Mother, noted that stretch of time?

Was so God damned amazing.


I have to be honest – and yeah, that’s a rarity sometimes with me.  As the biggest liar you could ever know a person I once thought was a friend would say: “deal with it!”

I’ve had a feeling for a while now, that this Chiefs season, is going to be 2006 all over again.

I think this is a fatally flawed team, on the brink of something the exact opposite, of what you expect to see coming.  

The 2006 Chiefs opened with my mouth nearly hitting the concrete beneath me, convinced Trent Green was lying dead on the field.

It ended as what, gun to my head?

Is the Chiefs season, that gave me the most pleasure when it was done.

It’s not my favorite – 1995 (probably) always will be.

But 2006, is damned close.


“And oh!  
All of this talking?
Makes you laugh.

But I've got to let you know,
Just how I fee ...
Fee ... 
Fee ...


The 2006 Chiefs opened 23-10 losers to the Cincinnati Bengals.

The 2014 Chiefs opened 26-10 losers to the Tennessee Titans, and I’m still furious the comparison isn’t completely valid, because of Ryan Succup’s late field goal to push the total from 23 to 26.

The 2006 Chiefs followed up an opening debacle, by taking satan’s squad to overtime, inside the gates of hell itself, when nobody outside of possibly me, thought a win was remotely possible.

The 2014 Chiefs will enter the gates of hell itself, in six days.

I ask you, Kingdom Members, who do you trust more, with six days to prepare – Herm Edwards?

Or “Fat” Andy Reid?


The fifth person who participated in the name of this post, is my buddy Jasson’s wife Tara.  I guessed right actually about a month ago – we got an email at work regarding getting CPR training / certification, and I guessed she’d be the one teaching it. 

Her comment to me?  “I saw you walking outside (company I work for) when I was there a few weeks ago!”

My response?  “Probably a typical Tuesday.”

When I get really, really frustrated with the job I have – which is about nearly every day at this point – I “pound the pavement”.  I pace the crime-riddled street of 112th Street, and just vent.  (Note: if they’d let us drink on the job?  This wouldn’t be necessary.)

That’s how I deal with frustration, with stress.  I walk, and talk it out, if only to myself. 

(Well, let’s be fair – I also deal with it in an unhealthy manner, via a bottle of something.)

She noticed.  She mentioned it.

And she witnessed why, this game will never be truly despised, by me.


I've tried to note each and every person I recognized, at yesterday's tailgate and/or game.

Except for two, up to this point.

Because the reason this game matters to me, far more than it should?  The reason I'll never hate September 7, 2014 the way I hate January 4, 1998?

Is because ...


"While I'm standing here?
Watching you?
Turning every head
In this crowded room?

If falling's how you feel?
And perfect's what you see?
Then that'd be what you mean?
To me.


The theme to this post, is "Mean To Me" by Brett Eldredge, which is without question -- (allard baird voice) without question! -- my favorite song released so far in this year the calendar calls 2014.

Because yesterday?

The gang was back together again.

And I, for one?

Will never forget it.

And never cease to be thankful, for it.


For a solid twenty minutes, three amazing friends had one amazing conversation, with a few others participating ... and at least one other person, simply looking and noticing.

And it was amazing!  Even if, in hindsight, nobody might remember what was said.

I had to step back for a moment or five, because it was getting a lil' dusty in the circle.  (Also, my beer was empty, and if my coozie of a buddy 13 despises anything, it's an empty adult beverage.)  Even though there was no wind, it was a picture perfect 70 degrees without a cloud in the sky, even though there was nothing but laughs and great times occurring, I had to take a step back, lest anyone see my eyes.

Because on the ride home from Ginger's this morning, the following conversation occurred:

(mona) So the three of you yesterday.
(stevo) Yeah?
(mona) That was cool!  To have friends for as long as you (all) have been, still there, still friends?  Trust me son -- that was so God damned cool!

Yes.  Yes it was.

Because when you've got friends like The Voice of Reason and Jasson?

What more do you need?


Thanks to you two, for everything.  You two have had my back no matter what, even as undeserved as having said back is.

I could never put into words, how much you two mean to me.

Although I've just tried.

If there's anything ten years ago -- especially in this month upcoming, to say nothing (for me personally) of what last year's Titans game, taught me?

It's to not just never apologize, for loving the people you do?

It's to never fail to take the chance, to point out, how epic of a friend, you are.


My favorite picture of all time, is the three of us, headed down Lot G, ultimately towards the players entrance, at the Chargers game in 2000:

(image credit: (I think) The Voice of Reason's sister, via whatever photographing device, she employed that day.

"If falling's how you feel?
And perfect's what you see?
Then that'd be what you mean?
To me."

And that?

Is ... well, it is what it is.

That's pretty God damned cool.


There will (probably) be a credible recap of the Chiefs / Titans game coming tomorrow.  But honestly?  Who cares about a football game, in the grand scheme of things?

That picture above?

That's what matters.  

Twenty one years ago, the three of us (plus a few others) wasted so many Saturdays playing Super Tecmo Bowl ... and twenty one years later, none of us regret a second of those Saturdays.


Is God damned cool ...

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