Saturday, November 29, 2014

the picture

“I found a box of memories.
Read a letter; dropped a tear where you signed your name,
And turning the page,
Smearing the ink, into love always.

Girl I always start this way,
And then I end up in a bottle, screaming out your name.
And punching the walls,
Carrying on like I’ve gone insane.

But in the mirror?  I can see the man
Who just shook his head with no remorse.
Watching an angel crying tears,
Stepping over my beers, as you walk out the door.

Well there ain’t nothing like a memory,
When it’s coming on strong like a hurricane.
How can love like that just up and walk away?
You’re killing me baby!

Got me pouring up another drink;
Bourbon’s hitting me hard, like a freight train.
With my back against the wall, or on my knees?
When the worst of your memory?

Gets the best of me …”

-- “The Best of Me” by Brantley Gilbert.  I freely admit, I irrationally love this guy’s stuff … and this, gun to my head, is my favorite song he’s ever put out … even if the video on Youtube! selected, sucks ass ...

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My November opened, by attending a “Celebration of Life”, for a friend who died way too young.

So I suppose it’s only fitting, that while attending that Celebration of Trish’s life, I noticed what I’ve been staring at, nearly every day since I saw it.  It was a picture on her memory wall that her great friend Cindy had put together.

I was asked about it a few days before, if I could recall when, or why, this snapshot in time had occurred.  Absent an actual look at it, I was pretty much clueless, and said as much.

Then came November 1st, when I saw it.  Truth be told, I’d never seen what I can’t help but refer to as “The Picture” ever before, even though the moment in time it captured occurred nearly three and a half years ago.

But the moment I saw it, I had my Rose in “Titanic” moment – that moment when she began to re-tell her memories of the sinking, and she opens by noting “I can still smell the fresh paint”.  Just simply seeing one of her stateroom items, took her back to what in her case, was literally a lifetime ago.

Just seeing “The Picture”, took me back … to what feels like a lifetime ago, in mine.

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There are nine visible people in “The Picture”*, and unless you count conversing with myself, I have spoken to exactly two of the other people in “The Picture” over the last half year.  

And one of the two, wasn’t exactly by my choice.

Three and a half years ago, when this event went down, I never imagined that -- at least, with most of the people in “The Picture” -- there’d go even a week, at most two, without a conversation occurring.  Without a text or email being exchanged.  Without time being spent together, no matter how small that window of time was.

I couldn’t have been more wrong, in how I viewed my life, and the world as I knew it, as barely twelve months after this (to me, haunting) glimpse at life was snapped – and definitely forty-two months out?

A day like the one captured in it, is simply impossible to imagine ever occurring again.

But I cannot stop staring at this thing.

If only because it’s one fascinating insight, into what once was.

And what sadly, will likely never be again.

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(*: in the interest of fairness, there’s an arm, and part of a body, of Person Ten, sitting in the chair behind me, that I can’t make out to the point of scientific certainty … but I’m 95 percent certain, of who that person is.  And if I'm right (and I think I am), this is just further proof, there is no such thing, as coincidence.)

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Also in the interest of fairness, there are at least eight people who I vividly recall were there that day, that don’t appear anywhere in the picture – with a ninth, that had already left when "The Picture" was taken.  

Go figure – of the eight off-camera folks the moment this was taken (at least one of whom took “The Picture”), seven of them I am still extremely good friends with, two of them to the point of literally being the family you choose (which is always the best kind)? 

The only one of the eight not to appear in this thing I don’t speak to anymore, I can’t – it’s Trish, my friend who passed away six weeks ago.

The moment I saw this moment selected for her memory wall, I froze.  Because Cindy was right – I instantly knew exactly what the day was, exactly why we were all together, exactly who everyone in the photo was.  And it must have been obvious, because she approached me and simply noted “I’m guessing I was right; you know what (this day and reason for the picture) was?”

Yes.  Yes, I did.  And yes.  Yes, I do.

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Every year, I post what I refer to as “The Annual Column”, and to be fair, most years, it posts on Christmas Night.  

This current post you’re reading is 790, so it seems fitting, that three years ago, when Post Five Hundred was “The Annual Column”, we’re on decent pace for Post Eight Hundred, to be “The Annual Column”.  (Yes, I know – I need to slightly pick up the pace, to make that happen.)

Last year, I couldn’t get the thing written until early April of this year, in a manner I was comfortable with posting.  And for the life of me, I spent nearly three months wondering why I couldn’t write it.  It’s not only “The Annual Column” on this site, it’s my favorite post I, uuh, post, every year.  Normally, I start this thing on Thanksgiving Night, watching football while dogsitting my brother’s dog.  And normally, over the month of December, this thing writes itself.  

Normally, the issue with this thing isn’t that I can’t compose it – it’s that I have to trim it down, to avoid writing the next epic 1,200 page novel you never wanted to read.

Once I saw “The Picture”, I finally understood, why it took me three months to crank out a semi-decent, not-even-remotely up to typical standards Annual Column.

Because only one person in the damned thing, got a positive shout-out from me.

And if I’m right about the asterisk noted above?  

Three people, got anything but.

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The other five?  I really haven’t spoken to, or in most cases seen, since the day the picture was taken.  I guess Future Ted Mosby was right in the “Gary Blauman” episode: “Kids?  You will be surprised, at how easy it is, for someone to disappear from your life.”  I still to this moment can identify every person in “The Picture”, and why they were in my life at that point in time.  And more to the point, I can identify at least one unique, individual moment with every single one of them, that occurred that summer in a location other than where “The Picture” was taken, between them and me.

That accounts for nine people in it – one praised in “The Annual Column”, three critiqued, five unmentioned. 

The tenth (again, assuming “the asterisk” is who I think it is, and given that the more I stare at this thing, the more I know I’m right about who it is)?

The tenth?

Is the clueless, “what the hell is happening here?” dude, who yes, looks literally clueless.

The tenth?

Was – and is – me.

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What truly strikes me, is how for most friends in “The Picture”?  The facial expressions captured, perfectly reflect how things feel when it comes to them – at least from me – forty-two months later.

Dusty?  Staring off in the distance, looking like he’d rather be anywhere, than where he was.

Kellie?  (Who I believe is “the asterisk”?)  A perfect ending to a meaningless knowledge of her – barely visible for the world to see.

Damien?  Seems deep in thought.  (Fitting for a guy we refer to as “Doc”.)

Katie?  Masking reality quite well, behind a smile I never could ignore.

Mark, Sarah, Cassie, Kelli, Kaela?  I’m still friends with all five on Facebook … and yet haven’t seen, or heard, from a one of them, in pushing two years, save for the yearly “hey, happy birthday!” or occasional thumbs-up like button, on something you post, or is posted about you. 

And then … there’s me.

The clueless, befuddled, “what the f*ck is going on here” dunce … on The Deck.

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For the record, “The Picture” (and it will appear below, to close the piece down) was taken in July 2011, at The Pool.  The reason for the gathering was yet another reception** for Dusty and Kellie’s marriage; this one, for “us kids”, and “our parents”, away from a formal setting, away from having to shoot the sh*t with people you didn’t care about, or barely knew, or were a second cousin to your step-mother.

In addition to the ten folks mentioned in the previous section, I know “My Second Parents”, Russ and Mona, were there – because (a) the picture was taken at their house, and (b) I have no doubt Mona took the picture.  I know Donnie was there***, as was Dusty’s mom (who is the one that left, prior to “The Picture” being taken.)  I know Trish and Cindy were there, and I’d bet good money Dave and Lynn were as well.  And I’m pretty sure Susan was there as well.

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(**: I think this was reception tres, if you count the wedding, and the reception out at that ranch on 50.  I know "The Picture" was taken before Nebraskapalooza happened, so I'm going with tres, as the count.  And Jesus, re-reading Nebraskapalooza, just hammers home, how f*cked up "The Family" became ... and remains.)

(***: to this day, Donnie’s reaction to seeing Damien for the first time, never fails to make a few of us laugh.  The unattainable dream for you, sir.  The unattainable dream.)

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And now, things are what they are.  “The Family” is in shambles, and quite frankly, is beyond repair at this point.  “The Ex” reached out to me two months ago, begging for a place to crash and stay, to get back on her feet.  I never could say no to her; I now haven’t heard from her in twenty two days, and have no idea if she’s dead, alive, or worse, as her stuff remains cluttering up the place.

What truly stuns me though, is that other than “The Ex” using and abusing my decency for the last couple months, the only one of the ten in the picture I’ve spoken to in the last six some odd months, is Damien.  That doesn't stun me; we've always gotten along well.  

But of everyone in the picture?  He's the only one I'd still count as a friend.  Of everyone there that day NOT in the picture?  I'd count every one of us still drawing breath, as at least a friend, if not family.

I waited on posting this, uuh, post, partly because it’s hard to write.  I’m not someone with a sh*t ton of what you would refer to as friends.  I tend to have a few close friends that (thank God above) I usually don’t tend to lose, but I’m not exactly the most socially adept individual, at forging a relationship with someone.

My brother?  He can walk in a room, and within ten minutes, know the names of everyone in it.  Me?  If I’m inebriated enough, I can walk into a room and ask everyone’s name within ten minutes … and I’ll botch your name for at least six months, before I get it right****.

But most of the time, I don’t even bother to do that.

I’m the guy who sits on the couch at your party, and hopes for one familiar face to have a party-length conversation with.  (And go figure ladies: I’m about to be 38, and single.  I know, I know – I’m as stunned as you are, given how freaking hot, I am.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  No, I haven’t lit myself on fire again!  How dare you, Ms. Editor Dudette?  How dare you!)

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(****: “Tony and Lisa” and I had a good laugh over that, on Sunday over lunch.  (That recap is still to come, probably early next week; Part Uno is here.)  Their real names?  Jeff and Paula.  How the hell do you come up with “Tony and Lisa” out of that?  Jerry and Marla, I can see, but Tony and Lisa?  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Well of course alcohol and/or a medicinally legal herbal product was involved!  Good God, you’re just now figuring that out?)

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And now: “The Picture” -- a glimpse into what life was, when it was at its finest:



(Start with the chica holding the volleyball, and let’s work our way clockwise.  Kelli holding the ball, Cassie next to her.  Kaela and Katie (aka “The Ex”) next to the ladder.  Me with the “what the hell is going on here” look on the deck … and if you have any doubt this is a dated photo?  No beard on me, and I have hair!  No "I'm going gray, so shave it all off!" look yet!  

“The Asterick” next to me, whose arm and leg you can somewhat make out, I believe is Kellie (“aka “The Chica”).  Sarah next to her, then Dusty (aka “The Champ”), Mark, and Damien (aka “Doc”.  Image credit: someone not in the picture originally; me, via the Snag-It dealie on my laptop, for this purpose.)

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I don't know why I felt like posting this, uuh, post.  I just did.  Maybe it is the needed break, to move on from a few failed friendships.  Maybe it's to remember the past, if only to avoid repeating it.

Or maybe, it's to capture at least one last time, how great life used to be ... 

"the poem", donkeys edition

“The Poem”
Chiefs vs broncos
Sunday, December 1, 2014 November 30, 2014.

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I have a dream,
Dr. King once said,
That one day this nation,
Will see everyone wearing Red.

OK, fine, I’ll grant you,
He never said those words.
But I really hope Sunday night,
We beat those orange wearing turds.

Sunday, seven thirty,
At the Cathedral known as Arrowhead,
The Chiefs take on the donkeys;
Don’t enter this one with dread.

The Chiefs can win this game,
Of that I have no doubt!
Provided you all show up,
To stand and scream and shout.

donkeys or raiders --
We can disagree on who we hate more.
But Chiefs fans, all that matters?
Is that we own the score.

A walk around the hallowed grounds
Of Arrowhead Stadium seems dated.
Or maybe, with The Poem's inspiration in the house?
It just seems ... fated.

To the Arrowhead Overlook,
Where our heroes will enter!
And where the enemy,
Will encounter William “Action” Jackson*.

After cheering the arrival
Of Smith, Charles and Bowe,
Time to turn our attention,
To the next part, of this A+ earning show**.

The first of two trademarked phrases,
That really do say,
How (freaking) ridiculous we were,
Back in the day.

“Because then I stop,
When I spot a car,
That might contain,
My Special Little Star!”

And once we have confirmed,
Five Nine is (most likely not) in the house,
It’s time to turn our attention,
To determining something else.

For the second of those phrases,
Trademarked so long ago.
And this is the one,
That made the Arrowhead Experience, so.

“Then I open the program,
To see who our referee will be.
And I shout out in glee or horror,
“Sweet Jesus!  Ed Hochuli!””

Sadly, Ed’s in Green Bay;
Walt Coleman will be our man.
And like Ed asked so long ago:
“Is that a problem?”

And since this is in honor,
Of friends true, sweet, and great?
I would be remiss,
If I didn’t include some hate.

Because every year for oakland,
A fine young lad would yell
“I HATE YOU FRED!” –
No!  None of us could tell!

Sadly, things have changed;
Some forever, and not for better.
For example, there won't be anyone
Consuming Dr. Pepper.

The crosswalk of Lot N,
Has been ceded to someone new;
Sadly, of its past owners?
The new ones, haven't a clue.

But some things endure forever,
And hating the donkeys is one
Of those things, that no matter what?
Is a helluva lot of fun.

For a few hours on Sunday,
It will feel like the good old days.
Friends, family, really good food --
And the author of "This Poem", baked and/or dazed.

But once the pregame madness is done,
And kickoff is in sight?
The tailgate must – must! – close down,
To “In The Air Tonight”.

Look at the smoke wafting,
Over One Arrowhead Drive!
You'll feel really damned proud,
That you have arrived!

For the beatdown of a generation,
Of these people we all hate.
Chiefs fans?  Get ready;
Stand guard at the gates!

Beat satan!  Beat the fox!
Beat every one of these clowns!
Make every (rear end) donkey fan,
Leave wearing frowns!

Be loud!  Be proud!
This is our time!
Sunday night the Chiefs,
Are going to rise and shine!

On Alex!  On Avery!
On Puff Puff Pass Rush!
Or is that more accurately,
Puff Puff Hash Rush?

On Charles!  On Bowe!
Bring on a legendary night!
And to Eric Berry?
We got you – always! – in this fight.

Oh, one last thing --
When victorious our Chiefs leave?
Pound those columns and scream out loud,
"F*ck the donkeys!"  

Shout it loud!  Shout it proud!
Make clear its meaning!
Because then we're going dancing?
On a (bleep) (bleeping) ceiling!

© Stevo Productions 2014, No Rights Reserved.

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(*: the intentional non-rhyming phrase, in honor of the girl I admire more than any other, in life.  And no, that girl is not William “Action” Jackson.)


(**: true story: Jenni wrote a college paper on “The Arrowhead Experience”.  Her professor did not believe wacko nut-jobs like us, existed.  (Pause).  Damned right that thing earned an A …)

Friday, November 28, 2014

the chiefs donkeys prognostication ...

“I came upon a fallen tree.
I felt the branches of it looking at me.
Is this the place, we used to love?
Is this the place that I’ve been dreaming of?

Oh simple thing!  Where have you gone?
I’m getting old and I need something to rely on.
So tell me when, you’re gonna let me in.
I’m getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin.

And if you have a minute?  Why don’t we go
Talk about it, somewhere only we know.
This?  Could be the end of everything!
So why don’t we go, somewhere only we know?

Somewhere only we know?

Somewhere only we know …”

-- “Somewhere Only We Know” by Keane, which in the interest of full disclosure, is my favorite song of all time.

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The Tailgating Plans:

We are leaving the Bus Barn around 12:30.  The early in pass says we get in at 2pm.  We all know that’s Barbra Streisand – the early in gate will be free and clear and wide, wide open by 1pm.  (Normal gates open at 3pm allegedly; again, that’s fertilizer.  They’ll be open by 1:30, and we all know it.)

The menu is bronco Burgers, some deep-fried, uuh, fries, and whatever assorted side items and/or desserts you happen to bring.  Also, rumor has it the best Jalapeno Popper Maker ever is coming out of retirement, to make about 100 jalapeno-y thingies of greatness.  (Fine, this isn’t a rumor: I’ve already been asked to buy the bacon.)

If you need us to save you a spot, please let me know.  I’ll be more than happy to do it.  We’re expecting close to 40 between our group, Roger’s group, and Ron and Ryan’s crew, so it might be a tight fit, but we’ll squeeze you in.   

We’ll be in our usual spot (grassy knoll north of G30) with plenty of time to get properly prepared for satan’s squad (aka “drink even more heavily than me and my mommy did, Wednesday night.)

Oh, and also, there are rumors – and I cannot confirm or deny them – that the Second Greatest Jello Shot Maker Ever is coming out of retirement for this special occasion, with a new Peach and SoCo shot to join the traditional round of them to boot.  Again, that is just a specious, unfounded rumor.  (But you bought the Jello shot cups at Fun Warehouse Wednesday night, right?)  Hell yes I did!

Yes, I am planning to make Jello Shots.  And I might even throw in some (stewie griffin voice) Cool Hwip, to boot, if I get a (stewie griffin voice) hwild hwair.

Stay tuned.  This tailgate could … hang on, I have to do this right.

Ladies and gentlemen, peoples and peepettes, the great Mr. Hugh M. Hefner!!!

(the great mr. hugh m. hefner voice) Thanks Stevo!  Folks?  This is looking to be something … REALLY special!

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The Watching Party Plans:

Considering there’s a gigantic 3:25pm tilt that could seriously impact home-field advantage in both the AFC and NFC postseason (that would be Patriots at Packers), Roger should have the flat screen up and operational, probably at least fifteen minutes before you’d think possible.  I swear to God, how that guy beats us in the gates every week, I cannot figure out … but you gotta admire it.

Other than that, if you aren’t coming out, you’re on your own.  Just be loud wherever you are.

Be DAMNED loud.

And make no apologies for it.

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The Mixology List:

Get your requests in by Saturday afternoon, and they’ll be added to the Mixology list.  

Also, let’s just all hope and pray that this week, when someone walks up to me and says “dude, you’re on fire!”, I don’t interpret that to mean he and/or she loves the Mixologist’s List, as opposed to said Mixologist literally being on fire, like two weeks ago.

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Stevo’s Ten Most Memorable Chiefs / donkeys Games Ever:

A segment I can’t write every week, since I’m pretty sure there’s  a few NFL team, the Chiefs haven’t faced ten times, in my life.  (Although (gulp), that number is dwindling rapidly.)

The Honorable Mention: Chiefs 33, donkeys 19, Week Four 2008.  It ended 345 straight days of losing, and saw so many memorable things happen, it took me not one, not two, not three, but four freaking previews and/or recaps, to accurately express how it felt.

The Dis-Honorable Mention: donkeys 37, Chiefs 34 (OT), Week Seven 2002.  Not only did the Chiefs blow a 14 point lead with 2:59 to play, not only did the Chiefs lose the coin flip, then somehow, someway see the "32 Defense" force a three and out to open overtime?  The Chiefs lost in overtime on a blocked punt.  A freaking blocked punt, that set up a layup field goal.

This is also "The Game", in which I dealt with the defeat by saying virtually nothing, simply heading home, and once I got inside, I grabbed a handle of vodka, and locked myself into my room for the next couple days.  I finally made it to work on Thursday.

10. Chiefs 44, donkeys 20, Week Seventeen 2009.  Cost the donkeys a playoff berth, capped a tremendous collapse for satan’s squad (from 6-0 to 8-8), and occurred on my 32nd birthday.  Birthday Numero 38 is barely a month away.  Yikes.


8. donkeys 35, Chiefs 31, Week Thirteen 1998.  The 1990s Chiefs last gasp, and they gave 12-0 denver everything those assholes could handle.  A late demon to demon (elway to sharpe) touchdown saved denver’s unbeaten run for one more week.  Until the Danny Kanell-led Giants beat them the following Sunday.

Should also note, this is the last Chiefs game I ever watched in The Apartment in college.  Seems impossible to believe, that’s sixteen years ago now, come next Sunday.

7. Chiefs 26, donkeys 23 (OT), Week Fourteen 2001.  Also known as the third coldest game in franchise history, according to the official temperature at kickoff.  Led to one of the most hysterical one-liners you’ll ever hear:

(cbs broadcast) (comes back from commercial).
(cbs broadcast) (show a very obese shirtless dude).
(kevin harlan) Wind chill of fifteen below, and that guy’s about a point fifteen right about now.
(moose Johnston) yeah, that guy should keep his shirt on if its eighty five and sunny.
(cue the laughs).

But also, after 3 ½ excruciating hours of football (and 3 excruciating hours of tailgating), this is the game where a sober Voice of Reason (and not even remotely sober me) dubbed Todd Peterson “The Golden Toe”.  Why?  I have no idea, other than why do we do anything?  (Because it makes us laugh out loud every time we think about it.) 

6. donkeys 14, Chiefs 10, 1997 AFC Divisional Playoffs.  Everything John Dorsey and “Fat” Andy Reid are building to, must be to erase the shame and the stench, of what occurred on my 21st birthday.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  No, that shame and stench wasn’t the one night stand lying next to me!  Come on!

5. Chiefs 42, donkeys 20, Week Seventeen 1992.  This one should be higher.  A true playoff game – the winner got the six seed, the loser missed the playoffs.  Also memorable, because this was Kevin Harlan’s final game calling the Chiefs play-by-play for KCFX, and as he noted, when DT stripped john elway and the fumble was recovered in the end zone for a touchdown: “not even Santa Claus can save the denver broncos today!”  

Also memorable, because the entire second half, john elway was staring at dan reeves with a “if murder was legal, I’d do it to you right now” look.  And in mr. elway's defense?  I cannot think of a jury in Jackson County, that would have NOT convicted him, to the fullest extent of the law, had he acted on that urge, to murder mr. reeves.

4. Chiefs 24, donkeys 23, Week Five 2003.  (kevin harlan) The punt by micah knorr … Dante Hall fields it ... (randy cross) Uh oh! … (kevin harlan)  Dante Hall up past the twenty! … (randy cross) He’s gone! … (kevin harlan) Only the kicker to beat and that’s kno – and that, folks, is probably the fourth loudest that stadium has ever been.  CBS had to actually crank up Kevin and Randy’s audio, because you couldn’t hear them over the crowd.  Awesome moment.

3. Chiefs 19, donkeys 10, Week Twelve, 2006.  The first ever Thanksgiving night game.  The end of jake “the fake” plummer’s career (this was the final time he would ever step foot, on a NFL field).  The dawning of the jay cutler era.  And thanks to the man under center in Red and (hopefully) Red on Sunday night, this game determined the final wildcard berth, in the AFC.

2. Chiefs 34, donkeys 27, Week Thirteen 2005.  (mitch holtgus) 4th and 2 at the denver … 47 yard line.  The draw to anderson … this is gonna be close … first down denver!  (len dawson) aw, no! … (mitch holtgus) and Mike White has thrown the challenge flag, the Chiefs are challenging the spot … (bill leavy) The runner was down before reaching the 49 yard line, theref – and that, folks, is probably the third loudest that stadium has ever been.  You couldn’t hear referee Bill Leavy after he announced the spot was changing.  I still cry every time I hear this sound clip.  Which quite frankly, isn’t often enough.

1. Chiefs 24, donkeys 22, Week Twelve 1997.  (jim gray) Might you think that kick saved the Chiefs season?  (pete stoyanovich, beyond p*ssed at the question) I don’t think (this kick) saved the season; I didn’t know the season needed to be saved!  We’ll just keep rolling from here!  (andre rison) I LOVE YOU MAN!!!!  This is one of the two loudest moments after a play in that stadium’s history.  The only other one up for discussion, was Tamarick Vanover’s overtime punt return touchdown in 1995.

The Apology:

I owe all of you an apology, for the lack of predictions the last two weeks.  I had them typed up last week, but they never got posted, because for some reason, my Wi-Fi would never connect to Ron and Becky’s network.  And this week, I knew I wouldn’t get them done before Thanksgiving, so I figured I’d just prognosticate the game I care about.

I’ll try to do better next week.  Believe me – I know how much the gambling public, relies on what I am thinking, to make damned sure they bet the opposite.

The Poem:

The Poem is getting its own post this week.  It will should be up by midday Saturday.

The Chiefs Prediction (and Commentary):

Honestly, there is no need whatsoever for me to provide a pep talk for this game.  If you can’t get fired up for two bitter rivals battling for the division (and potentially home-field advantage throughout the playoffs), then you don’t have a pulse. 

In many regards, this is the biggest Chiefs / donkeys tilt since Thanksgiving Night 2006.  (I know both games last year were to determine the division and home-field advantage, but both teams knew by late October they were going to the postseason.  Those contests – while huge – were just for seeding.)

We all know the ugly stats.  The donkeys are favored by 2.  Their QB, satan manning, is 12-1 against the Chiefs in his career (including two playoff wins).  He’s 5-0 as the donkeys starter against the Chiefs.  The donkeys are the better team on paper – they enter at 8-3, coming off surviving an upset threat from the decent Miami Dolphins.  Even when they struggle, they still put up thirty plus.

And as if facing satan and his unicorns isn’t bad enough, we have to deal with the single most smug, arrogant, obnoxious set of assholes this side of oakland.  At least there’s a few raiders fans I don’t mind at all (and I spent last week with virtually all of them).  There isn’t one bronkeys fan I can stomach to be in the presence of at this point, and I suspect that stat will not be changing Sunday.

The Chiefs enter at 7-4, fresh off one of the most humiliating, embarrassing, and utterly indefensible losses in franchise history.  They enter trailing the donkeys by a game, but due to the loss to those people in Week Two (to say nothing of the two looming roadies that will likely make or break the season), well … in times like this, allow me to defer to the experts.

In this case, ladies and gentlemen, peoples and peepettes, please give a warm welcome to Stevo’s Site Numero Dos’ Official Color Commentator (Emeritus), the great Dan Dierdorf!

(dan dierdorf voice) It would BEHOOVE the Chiefs to win this game.

Thanks, dude!

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And of course, then there’s the five hundred pound proverbial “elephant in the room”, that being the stunning news on Monday that Eric Berry’s season is over, due to the discovery of what is likely a cancerous mass on his chest*.  This is the second time in three years tragic news about a Chiefs defender has rocked this team on Thanksgiving week(end). 

Thankfully, this isn’t nearly as tragic, as the previous one.  Hopefully the doctors have caught this in time, and with aggressive treatment, Mr. Berry will be back on the field sooner, rather than never.

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(*: this explains a lot from Thursday night’s debacle to me, actually.  Mr. Berry not only looked slower (especially on the ridiculous long touchdown run by oakland), but he looked timid in his tackling.  If the dude is struggling to breathe, and it hurts to be touched, that explains a lot to me, actually.  Because if there is one thing Eric Berry has never been, it’s timid.)

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

There are very few sane, logical reasons to pick the Chiefs to win this contest.  

I can think of many sane, logical reason to predict a close denver victory, not the least of which is that, save for the clunker to end the 2012 season, even though satan manning nearly always beats the Chiefs, he rarely blows them out.

Don't believe me?  Here's the roll call ... and you might want a stiff, stiff drink of something, before reading the next few paragraph ...

His first matchup in 1999 saw the most ridiculous warning I’ve ever heard at a NFL game (the Colts noting a ban on bringing in “missile like objects”), and saw the Chiefs with the ball, down three, with a minute to play.  To say nothing of a "it's 11:30 the night before, you wanna drive to Indy? / Sure, why not!" road trip that ended in the parking lot of a Steak and Shake after an all-night drive.  

In 2000 the Chiefs had the ball, down six, with three to play.  In 2001, the Chiefs rallied from 21 down to nearly force overtime, before falling by seven on a Thursday night in October, for a game originally slated for noon on Sunday.  (9/11 really caused some screwy schedule changes that year.) 

2003 saw the Colts win one of the greatest games in playoff history.  2006 saw the Colts hold the Chiefs without a first down for 44 straight minutes … and yet the Chiefs had the ball, down eight, midway through the fourth quarter.  2007, a Chiefs team that over two seasons would lose twelve straight contests, saw them nearly beat the Colts in Indy (Colts FG as time expired).  

2010, a 3-0 upstart Chiefs team more than held its own in Indy, before losing late -- thanks in no small part to an indefensible Dwayne Bowe drop, that would have given the Chiefs the lead, late in the fourth quarter.

2012, the worst Chiefs team of all time nearly beat denver in Arrowhead.  (Fun fact!  The only two teams to hold satan manning under 20 points in a game, his entire tenure in denver?  The Chiefs in this game (we lost 9-17) ... and the Rams a couple weeks ago.  The lesson?  Damned if I know.)  

Both games last year, the Chiefs had the ball, in the fourth quarter, with a shot to take the lead or tie, and the Week Two battle this year, saw the Chiefs with goal to go, down four, inside of two minutes to play.

There’s only two times the Chiefs have faced satan manning, when one side has thoroughly taken the other to the woodshed, and given it the business.  The 2012 finale in denver, a game that meant nothing for either side, other than the end of the worst season in franchise history for the Chiefs.

The other virtually non-competitive matchup?

Glad you asked.

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

(mitch holtgus) Chiefs lead 45-35, but time is running out on the Colts.  manning shotgun snap, he’s back to pass, and it is … intercepted!  Intercepted by Greg Wesley!  Wesley still on his feet!  (len dawson) Get down!  Jesus, just get dow – ooh, great block!

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

Halloween, 2004. 

October 2004 saw four of the strangest, most confusing Chiefs results you’d ever see.  (It also saw a lot of personal tragedy for this dude.)

The month opened with 0-3 Kansas City, fresh off a “how the hell did you lose to that squad?!?!?!” brain fart defeat to the hapless Houston Texans, traveling east to face the Ravens on “Monday Night Football”.  A Ravens team that was your defending AFC Norris champion.  Somehow, the Chiefs battled to a 30-27 victory in a night so many people reading this simply refer to as “The Night Before Everything Changed Forever”.

Then came the bye.  Then another inexplicable “what the hell is happening here” last second defeat, this time to the woeful Jacksonville Jaguars.  Now at 1-4, the Chiefs are in trouble**, and worse yet, they’ve got their next two at home against the two teams that would ultimately lose their conference title games in 2004 – The “Shane Falco”ns, and the Colts.

I’m not even going to try to remember the Falcons game, other than I will acknowledge that that game, is the drunkest I’ve ever been at a sporting event, and nothing else is even in the realm of discussion.  As my buddy Pickell would note: "put it this way" -- I was a case in, at 9:30am.  The Chiefs dropped eight rushing touchdowns on the Falcons, to win 56-10.

Then came the biggie.  Indy.

One chance, against a quarterback we simply could not beat – 0-4 at this point – with the season on the line.  Win or else.  Do or die.

And every member of The Kingdom, knew it.

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

(**: if you ever want a good laugh, ask "The Voice of Reason" about his trip home from this game.  Let's just say, if you're an employee of Delta Airlines, or a hotel in Newport, Kentucky, you probably don't want to do this.)

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

Making matters even more tricky, was this pesky thing known as “Election Day” looming two days later.  Sure, Mr. Bush vs. Mr. Kerry was an interesting decision to make***.  But that wasn’t the vote that made this game tricky.

Bistate II, to save the Sports Complex and ensure the Royals and Chiefs stay in Kansas City for another generation, was on the ballot.  And given that 2004 is widely known as “the worst season in Royals history”, and the 2004 Chiefs have crapped the bed to a 2-4 start, uum, well, gee, how to put this delicately.

Let’s just say, the Chiefs needed the performance of a generation.

And they brought it.

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

(***: the only Presidential vote I regret casting, is Mr. Bush in 2004.  For the record, I voted for Mr. Clinton in 1996, Mr. Gore in 2000, Mr. McCain in 2008, and Mr. Romney in 2012.  And I am chomping at the bit, to vote for Mrs. Clinton, to save the party and the country from the far left loons currently running both into the ground, in twenty three months.)

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

It was a weird weather day.  I looked this one up just to confirm it, but (for once) I was right: 53 degrees at kickoff, with an insanely high humidity level of 63% for October 31.  It created a kind of foggy atmosphere to start, sort of like the game at Cincinnati a year earlier (that was actually delayed, because the fireworks mixed with the clouds blinded the field from view).

The Colts opened the scoring – a touchdown from satan to Marvin Harrison with four and change to go in the first, to take a 7-0 lead.  The Chiefs struck back, and quick – not even three minutes later, Trent Green found Tony Gonzalez for the tying score.

And then … came a quarter, I pray – and in case you think I’m joking, I literally moseyed up to St. Regis earlier today, and lit a few candles in reverential respect and religious hope – I pray, we see from the Red and (hopefully) Red, on Sunday night.

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

The Chiefs stop Indy on a 3 and out, with two (and please, Chiefs fans, SHOUT IT on Sunday night) IN-COM-PLETE (waa waa waa waa!) passes.  And on the punt, Dante Hall did what Dante Hall do, returning it to the twelve.  Two plays later, the 2nd Quarter Bonanza was underway, via a Johnny Morton touchdown pass.  14-7 Chiefs.

On the ensuing drive, satan craps out, the Colts punt.  The Chiefs ensuing drive lasts five plays.  The last four all go for at least fifteen yards, and it’s 21-7 Chiefs after a Priest Holmes scamper.

The Colts did score a touchdown on their ensuing drive to make it 21-14, but the Chiefs tack on another Priest touchdown and a Larry Tynes field goal, for a 31-14 halftime lead.

Here’s what stuns me about a quarter, that saw the Chiefs score on every single drive of significance.  (Larry Johnson took a handoff with :04 after a Colts punt, to end the half.)  You ready, because honestly, if a team drops 24 on you, and posts a 31-7 run on you, as the Chiefs did in the last 16:23 of that first half ten years ago, you expect one side to implode.  Turnovers galore.  Interceptions.  Fumbles.  Botched punts.

The Colts had one turnover all day.

The satan manning interception, that sealed the game, to Greg Wesley, play-called above.

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I happen to think that Sunday night, we’re going to see greatness.

(Well, to be fair – that’s a given.  I may refer to him as satan manning, but face it – the dude is greatness.)

And for once, it ain’t gonna be the sideline, with people wearing puke orange and blue, that deliver it.

If you need a ride out Sunday, we’re leaving between 12:30 and 1.  My contact info’s above if you don’t know it and want to save the $30 on parking; we welcome anyone (especially those wanting a Chiefs victory.  Seriously, if you’re rooting for denver, stay fifty effing feet from me at all times, as much as humanly possible.  I don’t want to deal with any of you people.)  

The menu is detailed above; it’s not changing.  I’ll get The Poem up by sometime tomorrow, since the person that thing was originally crafted for, will be in the house Sunday night.  I’ll try to get The Mixology List up by midday tomorrow as well.

Sunday the Chiefs are collecting for Harvesters; please, help those less fortunate and blessed in this life, than we all are, during this Chrismukkah season.  Ditto if / when the Toys for Tots folks walk by where you are.  In this amazing, awe-inspiring experiment that is the greatest nation the world has ever known?  It should be a crime, for any child, to go without at least one meaningful gift given to them, at Christmas.

I put my money where my fingers typing a keyboard are, for those of you who doubt me:


(L to R back row: "The Bus", Russ the Bus Man, Dr. Frank, Dustin, me, Roger's bus.  Next: Marine, Chris, Nancy, Marine.  Up front: Chiefs collector.  Image credit: PrimeSport / kcchiefs.com / nfl.com)

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Show up early.  Stay out late.

And prepare to celebrate a win, that will change who holds the power position, the AFC West.

As Barney Stinson noted in the episode “Sunrise”: “Whatever you do in this life?  It’s not legendary, unless your friends are there to see it.”


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

Sunday night, Chiefs fans?  Believe that we're going to go somewhere amazing, somewhere special, somewhere only we know.  (If only because no donkeys are allowed ... save for Quad Noose and his new buddy.  God, the things I want to do to violate that thing, would make Nina Hartley blush.)

Yes, folks – I honestly, truly believe, that on Sunday night, we’re going to finally – finally! – see greatness dropped on satan manning, by the Red and (hopefully) Red, for the first time in ten years.

I know the season statistics don’t matter anymore due to missing last week … but this week’s “Screw You Pete King” Upset O’ The Week?

(stevo very, very angry voice) For the second time all season – take a mother f*cking guess.


* at Chiefs (+2) 33, donkeys 19.  I really wanted to go 19-10 to honor the 2006 Thanksgiving Night victory … but honoring the 2008 “holy crap, it’s over!  345 straight days of losing is over!!!” upset of those people, seemed more appropriate ...

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

stevo vacation: where winning $.20 happens, part uno!

"Because love?  Is the greatest thing we do!"

-- Ted ... Evelyn Mosby, "How I Met Your Mother".

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

That was one fun trip.  Four awesome, wonderful days away from the five county metropolitan area I love so much … and haven’t been able to truly flee for a few days, in nearly two years.

I spent my last four days in a place known as Dakotaland – and yes, the fact that Dakota apparently has its own land, is really neat.  I mean, how awesome would it be, if you had a part of this country – be it a city, a county, a state, even a freaking cul-de-sac – named after you?  How sweet would Stevoville be?  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  (Sighing in disgust.)  Fine – how drunk and/or stoned, would a place known as Stevoville be?

The reason for the trip, was to visit some great friends, who come down twice a year this way: once every summer for a weekend* … and once every football season, for the raiders game.  Yes, dear readers, I freely admit, my buddy Gregg’s sister has a bigger pair than me.  She actually stepped foot in the black hole, and apparently lived to tell about it.  (I'm assuming that's the case; I'm guessing I'd have been informed of the funeral arrangements, if raider fan acted like raider fan, last Thursday night.)

Me?  I did the next best thing: I stepped foot into the black hole north … and signed my name on the raiders fridge:


(I was told I could not write anything negative about raider nation, oakland, the raiders, or anything affiliated with the silver and black.  25 year old Stevo is furious, at 37 (and damned near 38) year old Stevo, agreeing to those stipulations, in order to sign "The Fridge".  Image Credit: me, via my iPhone.)

So the trip started with a football game … and in a development that will surprise nobody who knows me, it ended with a harrowing drive home in god-awful weather conditions**.  It’s everything that happened in-between, that was so epic, it deserves a recap.

Which, I guess?

Is what this is.

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(*: Friday, we had lunch at a bar known as The OT.  (Pause).  Yes, I know – I am the one person you know, who believes there is no such thing as coincidence.  Having said that, I was asked to look up when the Twins are coming to town next season, since as Ian noted, “every damned year, you host us during the week, rather than the weekend!”  The Twins are here 4th of July weekend.  I’m guessing – fairly safely – we’ll be attending a few Twins games, this upcoming Royals season.)

(**: this was my fourth Chiefs “roadie” with the Second Parents.  It has rained (or worse) on every trip home.  Then again, my trips with “The Voice of Reason” have included the most frightening ride to a stopping point in my life … and my trip home from Omaha three years ago with “The Ex”*** was so horrific, I actually gave serious thought to staying at the Sac and Fox Casino for the night ... and somehow, when Dusty and I went to Indy for the 500 all those years ago?  It’s 102 when we enter Missouri on the ride home … and 42 and pouring down rain, once we enter a city best known as Allen Field House East.  The lesson?  Damned if I know, other than, don’t go on a roadie with me, if driving is involved.)

(***: and no, I have not heard from The Ex, since she left 18 days ago.  So stop asking me, please, how she’s doing, because quite frankly, I’m too godd*mned f*cking pissed and/or hurt, to deal with her at this point.)

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

We left Thursday morning, a little bit after eight.  The only part of the trip we knew was set in stone, was that we’d watch the Chiefs / raiders game in “The Garage” Thursday night.

We stopped at the Waffle House in St. Joe for some breakfast.  To say our waitress was a bit slow, is a bit underselling her.  But she tried, which is acceptable.  Plus, come on, it’s the Waffle House!  Just like you can’t ever go wrong with monkeys and/or midgets, you can’t ever order wrong at a Waffle House.  It’s guaranteed quality food.  Provided you avoid the grits.  I hate grits.

From the Waffle House (exit 40 something), we somehow made it all the way to North Sioux City, South Dakota, before stopping for gas.  In a 2000 GMC Jimmy.  Now, I used to own at 2003 Blazer.  (Same basic model and make, for the uninformed.)  I knew its limitations, and knew you couldn’t trust the gas gauge.  I knew if the mileage for the tank showed 250, you were in trouble.

That thing made it 302.2 miles.

Circle me impressed, Bert.


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

For the record, Sioux City is still the most foul-smelling city, I've ever had the (mis)fortune to step foot in.

Also, for the record, once you cross the border into South Dakota, there actually is a dual fireworks shop / casino you can stop at.  (It's also a gas station.  Just a RV park away from gaining Chocktaw Nation status!)

The last hour into Sioux Falls seemed to take forever.  Partly because my iPhone was deader than a corpse -- I'd played too much Spider Solitare on the ride up.  But mostly, because once you know you're close to the finish line, everything seems to take longer.

When we got to Sioux Falls, we agreed to meet up with our friends Ron and Becky at the VFW, located at I-229 and Minnesota.  You couldn't miss the place if you tried.

Once we got inside, they ordered the second strangest drink concoction I'd ever seen in my life: a tall one of (pick your beer of choice) ... with a boatload of olives in it.  Apparently most folks in Sioux Falls order their beer this way.

And no -- I didn't try it.  I had exactly two beers the entire weekend, and both were consumed during our stop on the drive home.  I'm not much of a beer drinker anymore.  I think I beered myself out during my teenage years.

But -- but! -- as someone who admits he'll try any alcoholic concoction at least once?

An "old friend" and I, who hadn't "spoken" in at least three years, "made up", about 24 hours after beer with olives in it, was presented to me ...

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

The first thing I did was sign "The Fridge", after I got to Ian and Angie's place.  Their garage?  Hang on -- I need to properly prepare you peoples and peepettes reading this.  Get a drool guard.  Make sure nothing breakable is in your hands.  Because this, peoples and peepettes?  

This, is what a Man Cave truly looks like:


(Yes, this is a garage.  A freaking garage!  Image credit: me, via my iPhone.)

The second thing I did, was change into proper GameDay attire: the yellow Chiefs t-shirt, the black Chiefs shorts, drape the January 4, 1998 "Be Loud" towel over the shoulder, throw the fading-fast red football bead over the neck, and of course, the Royals trucker cap I stole from my brother four months ago.  

The third thing I did, was introduce our friends from Dakotaland to a little thing known as ... The Jacked Up.  I had to change the recipe slightly, since we were using Weller instead of Jack ... but damn.  Whiskey, Bourbon, Diet Coke with Lime.  It's a winner every time!

As for the game itself, well, this picture pretty much says it all -- me, after the raiders took the lead with a little over a minute to play:


(I am NOT happy.  At all.  And my good buddy 13 is even more irate than I am!  God, I love that coozie!  Look at that lil' guy's arms outstretched in disgust and anger!  Image credit: Mona, via the Canon.)

After the Chiefs defeat, I was done-zo.  (Note: consuming approximately 20 Jacked Ups may have contributed to my inability to stay awake and "celebrate".  Also, "celebrating" defeat seems pointless to me.  I don't think General Lee raised a frosty cold one every year on April 9, to "celebrate" Appomattox.)  So I spent the night on the basement couch -- which should surprise noone; your couch is always my home away from home.

Thursday ended apparently with everyone making a wager on when I'd wake up on Friday.  Out of apparently fifteen people who wagered?  Only one had me up before noon.

And here I thought my friends knew me well.

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

Friday, I was wide, wide awake at 8:30, thank you very much.  I have a gift I guess a lot of you reading this would kill for: I never truly get a hangover.  I think it's because I have a residual .06 in me at all times, but for me, 8:30am is a late wake-up.  Even now, on Day Ten of my eighteen day vacation, I was wide awake at 7:22am.  I rarely sleep in, and I'm never hung over, no matter how much I pound them the night before.  

Breakfast Friday morning was one helluva amazing hashbrown casserole.  Green peppers in hashbrowns = muy bueno!  Also had my first glass of Sunny D in a very long time.  That was shockingly good as well.

About 11am, we decided we needed to do something.  So off to The OT!  My lunch order was a BLT with cheddar, and a bowl of chili as the side.  One of the two was really good.  (Hint: it wasn't the chili.)

It is at lunch, that this conversation occurred:

(nicole, to me) You should try a KC Ice Water!
(me, to nicole) What the f*ck is that?
(nicole, to me) Well, it's vodka, gin, and --
(me, to nicole) No.  
(nicole, to me) What?
(me, to nicole) Gin is not my friend.  Bad breakup.

I hate gin.  I mean, hate it.  Part of it is from a horrific New Year's Eve back in the day, when I had too much of it.  But mostly, I just hate everything about it.  I hate how it tastes, I hate what it does to me -- so in essence, Gin is my ex-wife I'll never have.  I hate everything about it.

Which of course, meant Rudy went and bought me a tall one.  

And I bought the second.

For the record, this KC Ice Water deal was vodka, gin, lemon juice, and Sprite.  And it was damned good.

But I'm still going to keep my ol' buddy Gin, at arms length, for at least the foreseeable future.

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

The rest of Friday was spent playing poker in Ian's garage (Tom and I split the jackpot), and then spent at Ron and Becky's that evening.

So allow me to say, if I ever actually own a house in my life?

I hope it's comparable to theirs.

I loved the layout.  I loved the five -- not one, not two, not three, not four, but five! -- nearly hidden closets built into the billiards room.  I loved every damned thing about this house, right down to the fact that the shower head in the fourth guest bedroom (and there were four!), had a rainforest raining effect on you, that literally made me stand for ten minutes both Saturday and Sunday morning, underneath said shower head, because it felt so damned perfect.

Why, you ask, do I mention that?

Because as Becky noted at breakfast Saturday: "nobody's ever used that shower before".

Now THAT'S what I call quality hosts!

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Friday night's menu was venison chili (which was beyond spectacular), a boatload of booze (ditto), and games of pool, that saw me paired up with Becky.

Somehow, I won our first game, by nailing the 3 ball, then the 8, on back to back shots.  

That never happens.

Then again, the punishment for losing a match, was to down shots of Cuervo.  Which, to be honest, really isn't a punishment?

Here's my teammate and I, pushing midnight Friday:


(Image Credit: someone, via the Canon.  Also, what's more unreal -- me winning a game of pool ... or the Royals in the World Series?)

And yet, that isn't the picture I loved the most from Friday night.  Sadly, I don't have the one I truly loved the most on the laptop (which was my two Special Little Guys peering over the pool table, barely able to see what was going on).

Instead, I'll just post my favorite one I have from Friday night: me, with two kids that not only steal your heart the moment you see them?

They'll charge you to get your heart back.

Because they're that sneaky good to know.


(that's me, in the blue t-shirt.  Kalen is on the left, Mason is on the right.  Don't ever ask me to decide, which one I love more.  #uncateve was in da house!  Also, I was a solid 15 glasses of assorted adult beverages in ... yet still managed to hold onto the two lil' tykes.  Again: #uncateve in da house!  Image Credit: someone, via the Canon.)

The night ended with me in a guest bed, and everyone else somehow staggering to another guest room, and/or home, as Friday turned into Saturday.

And Saturday?

Oh sweet merciful Jesus, was Saturday a day I'll never forget ...

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

chiefs! seahawks! where stevo lighting himself on fire happens ...

“Life’s like a novel,
With the end ripped out.
The edge of a canyon,
With only one way down.

Take what you’re given,
Before it’s gone,
And start holding on –
Keep holding on!

Cause when push comes to shove?
You taste what you’re made of!
You might bend ‘til you break?
Cause it’s all you can take.

On your knees?  You look up,
And decide you’ve had enough.
You get mad.  You get strong.
Wipe your hand, and shake it off –

(Because) Then You Stand.

Then You Stand!!!! …”


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

There’s so much about Sunday I want to hit on, that I know I’ll miss at least three things I wanted to point out. 

Sunday was one of those rarest days in life, where nothing, and I mean NOTHING, makes sense.

Mona too sick to attend a game?  Check.

Roger parking his bus perfectly, to provide the perfect “defend against the wind” shelter, twenty minutes before we arrived?  Check.

Two great moments with the Bulance?  Check, and check.

The Chiefs stopping the defending Super Bowl champions on their final three drives, on fourth down each times?  Check, check, and check!

I have to admit up front, my voice is shot.  My hands hurt like hell, from pounding the seat in front of me so much.  My right arm has (probable) permanent bruising, from Chris pinching and/or punching me on said right arm, for every big play. 

But Sunday?  Damn am I glad I picked “Soldier” by Gavin DeGraw for the theme last week, because Sunday, we were all soldiers for the Kingdom.  In the bastardized words of the great Blake Shelton?  We got loud.  We got proud.

And we got worse.

And that fourth quarter?  Holy God.  I can legitimately argue the greatest fourth quarter in franchise history, occurred thirteen months ago, when the Chiefs not just held onto a one point lead over the Houston Texans, they let the Texans run sixteen plays in the quarter … for zero points, and negative one yard.

The Chiefs weren’t quite that successful on Sunday … and yet, the Seahawks had three fourth down conversion opportunities Sunday.  4th and Goal at the 2.  4th and six inches at the 36.  4th and 18 at the 20.

In order?  The outcomes of those three fourth downs were Incomplete.  Stuffed at the line of scrimmage.  And damned near picked off, before falling harmlessly incomplete.

So let me open by noting this -- and yes, you smart asses in the peanut gallery, I’m actually getting to the open in the, uuh, opening segment of the post.  You’re welcome.

The 2006 Chiefs are my favorite Chiefs team of the last fifteen years.  They never won seven of eight to emerge from 0-2 to championship contenders – they won seven of nine.  The 2014 Chiefs?  Have won seven of eight … and will be heavy favorites to make it eight of nine, before getting three extra days to prepare, for what might be the single biggest regular season game Arrowhead Stadium has ever hosted, in thirteen days.

And more to the point – the 2006 Chiefs?  Never had a Stand like Sunday.

You have to go back to 2005, to find a Cup Check Stand, like what we saw – twice! – inside the last eight minutes, on Sunday.

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

Last year on this weekend, I posted what is still my favorite post on this site*, my loving look back as to why I love this team as much as I do.

This year?  I have to try to recap a game in which … well, let me just quote, verbatim, what I told my dad on Sunday night, when he called to praise the Chiefs win:

“Dad?  I have no damned idea how we won that damned game today**.  Our time of possession was atrocious.  We were minus two in the takeaway stat!  I don’t think we completed ten passes!  (Editors note: we completed eleven.  Of sixteen.  For one hundred eight yards.  And won!)  Dwayne Bowe blew two critical first downs.  Hell, we not only blew the final punt by not pinning (Seattle) at the one, we gave them a gimme first down on 3rd and long!  We couldn’t convert a 3rd and six inches with the game on the line!  I guarantee you every stat, says Seattle should have won this game by twenty!”

My dad’s response?

“And you’re upset because?”

Sometimes?  The man has a damned good point.

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(*: yes, it’s still my favorite post … but this one is a damned close second.)

(**: one – and arguably the only – positive to come through Dad going through what he did last October?  It’s amazing how language no longer matters to him.  You drop dead twice in an hour, and live to tell about it?  You learn to pick your battles … and he’s done fighting me, on my love of four letter salty language.  I think that’s a good thing.  You all can decide for yourselves, whether it is or not.)

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To note the opening tag line to the post – yes.  Yes, I did set myself on fire yesterday.  Apparently standing two feet in front of a propane heater while wearing cordoroy’s is not as genius of an idea as it sounds.

Because about 10:40am yesterday, as I’m oblivious to what’s occurring on my lower left leg, Dr. Frank’s son comes strolling in, walks up to me, gives me a back slap of a welcome, and simply notes “dude!  You’re on fire!”

I thought he was referring to the Mixology list (which, in my defense, was exceptional yesterday.)  Then (and of all the names in the world this guy could be named, it would have to be this one), Dr. Frank’s son – whose name is Dustin -- looks at me again, points at my leg, and says “no, really – you’re on fire!”  Thankfully the damage wasn’t too painful, but those pants are (stewie griffin voice) roo-eened.

And yes, the answer to Captain Oats’ question is “very”, to the “how intoxicated were you” question my literally being on fire, and not realizing it, said fire prompts.

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

It was a skeleton staff crew that rode out yesterday; Russ, myself, Jaimmie, Anthony’s sister, and Anthony’s mom.  Mona was home sick.  Anthony was off shooting Bambi in South Dakota.  All their friends were unaccounted for.  Susan called at 6am and opted for the “I’ll sleep three more hours and show up” option I wish I used more often, if I’m being honest. 

We pulled through the early-in gate about 6:45am.  Had no issues navigating the cone setup.  Everything was perfectly normal, right up to setting the flagpole stand underneath The Bus’ front right wheel.

And then, nothing made sense.

We never put up a flag.  Of any kind.  Or any HyVee signage, in our blatantly obvious attempt to steal … excuse me, win … a $100 gift card. 

Our sole focus at first, was to get the Easy-Up, uuh, up.  The wind at the top of the hill was brutal.  But one nice thing about Roger somehow beating us in the gate every week, is that he figures out exactly how to position their bus, so that when next to ours, we can create an enclosed, heated area once the tents go up, and yesterday, he played that wind perfectly.  It took about an hour to get the inside of the Easy-Up truly heated, but once we moved the grill over, and then Ron and Ryan arrived and hauled out a second propane heater, we were set.  And yes, it was warm enough, that my pants being on fire didn’t feel awkward, despite the temperature outside the covered area being about 15 degrees.

And if you doubt me it was cold yesterday?  My iPhone stopped working – twice! – in the first twenty minutes the Mixology list was going, because it was too cold to function.  I had to wrap that bad boy in a blanket, and shove it back on the Bus, in order to keep the music going.

That’s bleeping cold.  Or as I kept noting every ten minutes or so, “let’s all pray this is the coldest game of the season!”  Because I am dreading how cold it might be, thirteen days from right now, when The Bus departs for what might be the single biggest regular season game in Arrowhead’s hallowed history.

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When it’s as cold as it was, the menu is kept simple.  Ron and his crew had the same idea as us: chili.  They brought a pot, we had a pot, plus a pot of chicken noodle soup we designated as “Seagull Stew”.  We also threw a few dogs on the grill, for folks who wanted chili dogs (and good grief, Dr. Frank was pounding those things like I pounded the SoCo yesterday.)

The Voice of Reason and his dad showed up a little after 9:30, and they didn’t stay long.  Can’t say I blame them; it was cold. 

There was no Jasson sighting yesterday; I’m guessing he upheld that long-standing family tradition of failing to show up until and unless it’s a 72 degree, sunny day, without a hint of wind in the air.  (Or the Danny Darrell Memorial Day, if you will.)

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I think the moment I knew yesterday was going to be one to remember, was when I arrived at the seat I used. 

Section 132.  Row 25. 

(Pause).  Seat … 13.

Or as it used to be known – Section 132, Row 25, Seat 1.

I sat next to Chris yesterday, in Randy’s old seat, and within thirty seconds of making the decision to sit in 132, go figure – the people who owned seats 13, 14, and 15 yesterday, showed up.  As did the folks who owned 9 and 10 (where Dr. Frank and his son Dustin chose to sit; Chris has 11 and 12 for her and Nancy).

The folks who owned 9 and 10, opted to take 8 and 9, to let Dr. Frank stay where he was.  His son Dustin headed my way … because the folks who arrived owning 13, 14, and 15, assessing the situation, figured out we were one helluva group of friends in these two to three rows in the center of 132, and the dude who had 13’s response simply said “why don’t we take 15 (through 17), and unless someone boots us, we’ll make this work!”

13.  Some of you’d argue it’s an unlucky number.

13 … is the jersey number of my Coozie, that has seen so many amazing moments the last few months, between the Royals and the Chiefs (to say nothing of Bowling League every Wednesday night, where 13 has become somewhat of a celebrity.)

I went and bought a Jacked Up and a bag of peanuts to watch the game with.  (And yes, one Jacked Up turned into three – funny how that happens.)

I am that guy in life, who does not believe in coincidence.

You’re damned right, 13 fit perfectly, on the Jacked Up glass, the Chiefs Bar in Section 131, sold me shortly before kickoff.



(13's finest hour, after the Royals clinched the ALDS series against Baltimore.  Image credit: me, via the iPhone 5c.)

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Meant to share this one a few weeks ago, but go figure, I forgot.

A few of us in my tailgating group, at the Jets game:



(Let me try to get this right.  Back row, L-R: me, my buddy Ryan, his dad Ron, my Second Mother (aka Mona), and a chick that’s a friend of Will’s, whose name escapes me.  (I know, stunner.)  Front row, L-R: Anthony, Jaimmie, and dude that’s a friend of Will’s, whose name escapes me.  But if you look back right upper corner, you can see the Easy Up setup we used Sunday.  Damned near perfect.  Image credit: kcstar.com.)

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So let me start to get into the game recap, by noting, HisDirknesS’ recap at Arrowhead Pride was perfect on Monday.

This team was built, to take advantage of the biggest glaring weakness in most NFL teams’ structure.  This team was built to beat the crap out of you, to wear you down hit by blow by tackle by incredible scamper to the end zone on a misdirection toss on 4th and 1.  This team is what people my age (and, gulp, I’m less than fifty days away from changing the 7 to an 8, after the 3, in my age) grew up loving.

This team lines up and hits you.  It pounds you.  It out-mans you.  This team takes every blow you give it, and simply refuses to concede defeat.

There are two stats about this season that is now ten games and eleven weeks old, that blow my mind, and they are these two stats:

* The Chiefs have yet to throw a touchdown pass to a wide receiver.

That in and of itself, is incredible, and nearly incomprehensible.  Even the best of Marty and Carl’s creations in the 1990s, managed a wide receiver touchdown by week twelve.  Think JJ Birden’s bomb against Philly in 1992.  Willie Davis’ epic winner at Real Mile High in 1994. 

In fact, just for sh*ts and giggles, I went to my favorite geek website, pro-football-reference.com, to see when the Chiefs first recorded a wide receiver touchdown in the Marty and Carl years.  Here’s your answer:

1989: Week One (Carlos Carson TD in 4th Quarter), at denver.
1990: Week Two (Stephone Paige TD in 4th Quarter), at denver.
1991: Week One (Emile Harry TD in 4th Quarter), vs Falcons.
1992: Week Two (JJ Birden TD in 1st Quarter), vs Seahawks.
1993: Week One (Willie Davis TD in 2nd Quarter), at Bucs.
1994: Week One (Willie Davis TD in 1st Quarter), at Saints.
1995: Week One (Willie Davis TD in 1st Quarter), at Seahawks.
1996: Week One (Tamarick Vanover TD in 1st Quarter), at Oilers.
1997: Week Two (Andre Rison “burns al davis’ house down!”, with 0:03 remaining), at raiders.
1998: Week One (Andre Rison TD in 1st Quarter), vs raiders.

The Chiefs haven’t had issues with scoring in 2014.  (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Oh come on!  What do you mean, “unlike the author of this post!” That’s, that’s … that’s so, so true.

But – but!  You know who else has had issues with scoring in 2014?  Every team the Chiefs have faced, if they’re handing the ball off.  Because the second unreal stat of this season so far?

* The Chiefs have yet to allow a rushing touchdown this season.  To any player on the field.

Nobody – no quarterback, running back, wide out, tight end, or lineman on a Fumblerooskie, has crossed the goalline against the Chiefs by taking a handoff for six.

If this was Week Three?  That’s understandable.  But this is through Week Eleven!  The Chiefs have already faced denver, Miami, New England, San Francisco, San Diego, Buffalo, and Seattle – seven teams at .500 or better – and haven’t let them reach the end zone on the ground!  (They’ve also held out Tennessee, St. Louis, and the Jets, which frankly, should surprise noone.)

That second stat?  Got tested big time Sunday … and held.

So, let’s hit the recap.  As always, I pull up NFL GameCenter at nfl.com to get the stats, down, distance, and timing as accurate as possible.

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* Chiefs win the toss, choose to defer.  Normally I hate that; I always prefer to start with the ball.  But hey, it worked on Sunday, so who am I to complain?

* And the Chiefs immediately force a three and out.  That’s not why I point out the Seahawks opening drive.  I point it out, because they went shotgun formation all three plays.  Yes, folks – zero plays into the game, the defending Super Bowl champs were already so concerned about our front seven and crowd advantage, they went shotgun.

* After a gorgeous fifty plus yard punt, the Chiefs take over at their own 14, and, well, all I can do is just retype the text I sent to the Voice of Reason:

“That was a textbook Gregg drive!”

15 plays, 86 yards, Jamaal Charles pitch right from one yard out to score, after nine minutes and a second come off the clock.  If you want to beat your opponent?  Keep them off the field.  The Chiefs did that to perfection on this opening drive.

* Unfortunately, Seattle stole our playbook, because their next drive was even better!  16 plays, for exactly 9 minutes, that tied the game on a 7 yard touchdown pass on 3rd and goal.  We’re tied at seven.

* The entire first quarter took 26 minutes of real time.  Kickoff was at 12:02.  The quarter ended at 12:28.  Unreal.

* Even more unreal, might be what happened next.  Because the Chiefs march 80 yards … in 4 plays, and barely two minutes.  Or as Gregg texted back: “that was NOT a Gregg Memorial drive!”

Alex Smith to Travis Kelce for 20.  Jamaal Charles up the gut for 30. Alex Smith to Anthony Sherman for 15.  Jamaal Charles offtackle for 15 and the six.

Alex Smith completed eleven passes Sunday (on sixteen attempts), for 108 yards.  2 and 35 of those stats, were on this drive.

* Seattle gets the ball back down seven, and goes to work, securing a field goal just after the two minute warning.  This is one of those unsung, underrecognized stats … but red zone conversion.  Seattle had the ball in the red zone five times Sunday.  They got two touchdowns … and two field goals, plus were stopped at the two on fourth down.  40% success.  To quote the (still with us), great Jim Mora Senior, “you ain’t gonna beat anybody I just talked about, doing (bleep!) like that!”

* The Chiefs ensuing possession was a debacle, with a replay overturn giving Seattle the ball at the Chiefs 40 with about a minute to play.  To be honest – and if there is one thing in life I strive to always do?  (Pause).  Yeah, it isn’t being honest.  But to be honest, I couldn’t tell from the replays shown in the stadium whether it was a fumble or not.  I texted four friends – Heath, Anthony, Phil, and Damien – to ask for their input.  The three who replied indicated it was clearly a fumble, so I’ll defer to the experts with quality HD setups, that weren’t freezing their balls off on Sunday.  (So they’re smarter than you?)  Hell yes they are.  What’s your point in asking the obvious?

* Seahawks kick a field goal as the half ends, to make it 14-13 Chiefs at halftime.  For what its worth?  Halftime arrived at 1:08 in real time.  Yes, the first half barely took an hour. 

Which is probably good.  If only because the second half – especially the last twelve minutes – seemed to take a freaking eternity, to play out.

* I missed halftime; I headed up to pee, and in a rare moment of clarity for me, I bought not one, but two Jacked Up’s.  (I tried to buy four, but apparently you can only buy two adult beverages at a time.  Sumbeach!)  I still had at least half of my first Jacked Up to finish.  I prepared properly, for the stressful second half about to unfold.  (Also, I am never again forgetting the pint of SoCo, to mix with a large coke.  $12.50 / cocktail is outrageous.  Outrageous!)

* The Chiefs receive the kick, and bleed half the third quarter off the clock, before settling for three, to take a 17-13 lead.  I was strangely calm at this point.  I guess I’m sometimes too analytical.  I mean, the Chiefs had had the ball four times, scored on three of those possessions (with the only whiff being the Kelce replay-caused fumble), and the defense has more than held its own.

But as the (sadly, not late … and not really great) Chris Berman would note: “that’s why they play the game.”

* Chiefs force a punt, and DeAnthony Thomas has one helluva return!  They’re in business inside the Seattle 40!  Arrowhead going nuts!  (Pause).  Damned replay review.  This one I knew wasn’t going our way, because the scoreboard operator dude only showed it once.  Go figure – DAT stepped out of bounds at the 29.  And yet, the Seahawks felt way too frisky on the play, because a personal foul – with an ejection to boot! – was tacked on.  So the Chiefs have it at their own 44 (not bad), up four (no complaints), with 3:16 to go in the third quarter (against the defending champs?  Spectacular!)

Cue eighteen minutes of play time (and about ninety minutes of real time) of stress, in three … two …

* … one, which is the number of plays the Chiefs ran on the ensuing drive.  Jamaal Charles fumbles on first down, and the Seahawks recover.  Yikes.

* More yikes: the Seahawks not only need five plays to tie the game, they do it in my end zone, with a one yard pass to former Chief Tony Moeaki.  I wanted to vomit after that.  Seattle has the lead, about to enter the fourth quarter, and they got it when (arguably) the best running back to enter the league since Barry Sanders fumbles, and (arguably) the most worthless third round pick in franchise history scores to take the lead against us.  Scott Pioli draft picks: the gifts that keep on giving!

And boy, would they … in the fourth quarter!

* We open the fourth quarter, with the Chiefs trailing 20-17, but having the ball.  After a defensive holding penalty sets up a first down, what else needs to be said?

Jamaal Charles happened.

(Note: I love, love, love that this is synched up to The King and Good Ol’ JR, calling the play.)

One play later, Knile Davis is in the end zone, the Chiefs are up 24-20 … and, well, it’s not often I nail something.   (Pause).  What?  (Pause).  Oh come on!  Stop making references to my sex life!

It’s not often I nail something … but I nailed (for better or for worse) what was about to come.  (Pause).  No, no joke on that one, please.  I’m trying to keep this site at worst NC17 for God’s sake!

Because this conversation occurred after the Davis touchdown.

(chris) This reminds me of the last time you sat by me!
(stevo) Houston.
(stevo) If we do, I know what seat I’m buying next year.

The Chiefs on Sunday weren’t that epic.  They didn’t hold the Seahawks to negative one yards for the quarter.

Somehow?

They were better.

Three straight drives, the Seahawks had their chance.

And three straight times, they were denied.

* Their first shot, after the touchdown.  Seahawks take over at their own 23, and immediately go to work.  Barely three minutes later, they have goal to go at the Chiefs 9. 

Cue The Stand Uno, from Sunday.

First down, five yards for Marshawn Lynch.
Second down, no gain to Doug Baldwin.
Third down, two yards to Marshawn Lynch.

This launched a “do you kick or go” debate in Section 132 … and I agreed with Pete Carroll – you go.  Seven minutes and change to play, you’re at the opponents two, and the Chiefs have shown they can grind out an eight minute drive if need be.  You take your chance.

Fourth down?  Harmlessly incomplete, on beautiful coverage by Sean Smith.

Chiefs take over, up 24-20, at their own two.

You can guess how that drive went.

* If you said “three and out with no gain!”, congrats, you’re a winner.  Although this is the drive, where you had back to back false start calls on the Chiefs (I know the second was delay of game, but Eric Fisher moved early as well), that cost us 54 inches.  If you’re gonna try to cheat, you can do worse than trying to do it on first down at your own two.  All you cost yourself is half the distance.

Plus – and I know I may be mentally challenged – but I think the Chiefs had something bold planned for that first down.  I don’t think the eventual play (Charles up the middle) was the planned call.  I think they were going deep.  (Think Chargers game in 2002 – Trent Green 99 yards to Marc Boehricter from the end zone).  I think they were going to challenge Seattle. 

Whether that’s the case or not, the Chiefs do go three and out, Seattle gets the ball back at the Chiefs 45 with a little over six minutes to play, and here we go again.

The Stand Dos, from Sunday.

* For the record, “The Stand”, as I like to officially refer to it, occurred Week Thirteen 2005.   At Arrowhead.  On 4th and 2, against the denver broncos, with the Chiefs leading by four (31-27; the eventual winning score).  There was 2:07 on the clock, when the play began.  Initially, donkeys running back mike anderson was ruled to have gained the first down.  Richard A. Vermeil challenged the spot.  He won the challenge; the Chiefs ultimately won the game.

Sunday?  Seattle had a 3rd and 8.  Marshawn Lynch was ruled to have gained the first down.  “Fat” Andrew Walter Reid challenged the spot.  This one, I had no doubts about.  Marshawn Lynch was clearly short of the 35.  Bill Leavy gave the Chiefs the replay victory, and Seattle had 4th and 1 at the Chiefs 36.

That ensuing play?  Was about as damned loud as I’ve heard Arrowhead, since “The Stand” nine years ago.  Because when Marshawn Lynch was all but, uuh, lynched, by a gang of Chiefs, well behind the line of scrimmage, all I could note was what I texted.

“I think Arrowhead has woken up!”

Jesus, it was loud in there after that stop.  I still have fingernail marks on my right arm, from where Chris was digging into me, dragging my sleeve down, from the stress.

But – but!  This is the Chiefs.  Of COURSE that wasn’t the ballgame.

* Six inches.  That’s about how far Jamaal Charles needed to get on third down, with 3:13 to play, to all but seal the victory.  And he couldn’t get it.

The Chiefs punt, and folks?  If you didn’t see this punt?  It’s one of the greatest punts you’ll ever see in your life, and should have been even greater than it wound up.  Because Dusty C – at his own 45 – punted this one 54 yards, 2 feet, and 10 ½ inches.  It landed at the Seattle one and a half inch line.  And Junior Hemingway redeemed himself for the debacle that was the 49ers game out of him, by perfectly timing the jump, to throw the ball back into the field of play.  And not just perfectly throw it back – he threw that sucker damned near where it landed, at the one and a half inch line.  Unfortunately, the Chiefs let it bounce a couple yards east, and Seattle started at their own 4.

Still – here we are again.  Just like that Houston game last year, when Case Keenum, trailing by one, was nearly decapitated by Tamba Hali, right in front of me.

Cue first down.

* Because on first down, Russell Wilson came as close to taking a safety as you possibly can, actually being tackled in the end zone as he threw the ball … complete, for a one yard gain.  And then, right before the two minute warning, he completes a pass for a nearly 25 yard gain, to set Seattle up with first and ten, at the Chiefs 28, trailing by four.

The Stand Tres, from Sunday, was about to occur.

* First down, nothing.  Great coverage by Eric Berry.  The guy behind me (sitting in my old seat, ironically), leans down and screams (because you had to scream, it was so loud in Arrowhead at that moment) “sorry if I hit your back!”  Why, you ask, would he say a thing like that?

Because he was pounding the seat assigned to me so damned hard, his hand kept hitting my back, on the recoil.

Apologize for nothing, dude.  Apologize for nothing.

* Second down, the Seattle offensive line collapses.  Again.  For all of our offensive line issues, Chiefs fans?  Seattle’s might be worse.  Russell Wilson saved their ass all day long Sunday … until he couldn’t.  Down he goes.  Dontari Poe.  Now it’s 3rd and 18, Seattle’s out of timeouts, the clock has dropped below 90 seconds to go, the noise is bat-shit crazy inducing deafening, and not just my arm (from where Chris is trying to separate my shoulder by tugging on it so hard), but my back (from dude behind me pounding it) are hurting.  My voice is shot.  My hands hurt like hell. 

Worth it.

* Third down.  Of all the reasons our Chiefs are in this position they are – tied for first with six to go, and denver has to come here in two weeks – of all the unsung reasons we’re here, can we properly praise Husain Abdullah?  This kid excites me.  And not just because it’s the one and only time in my life, I’ve ever left my Voice of Reason, uuh, reasonless:

(from a game (I think) last year):

(gregg) He’s a Muslim.
(stevo) Oh come on!  You can’t determine a guy’s religion by his name!
(gregg) Name just one person with a Muslim sounding name, that isn’t.
(stevo) (no hesitation) Barack Hussein Obama.
(gregg) (silence).

Well, as we learned during the Monday Nighter against the Patriots, Mr. Abdullah is a Muslim.  (Which is perfectly fine with me.  I personally despise religion of all kinds … but even I admit there is a God, and it is the God of Christianity, Islam, and Judiasm.  Which makes the Islamic world’s hatred of Israel and the Western World so idiotic.  We all pray to the same God.  Why are we fighting each other?)

But Mr. Abdullah had a huge third down bat-down, to set up fourth and long, with the game on the line.  So many times as Chiefs fans, we’ve seen how this plays out, and it rarely plays out well.

* Fourth down: Russell Wilson’s pass is nearly intercepted by Sean Smith, then falls harmlessly to the ground.

Game, set, match.

After The Stand Tres from Sunday, the streamers flying out of the upper deck were ridiculous.  It was like 2002, 2003 all over again.  The crowd noise was insanely loud.  We’d done it.  The defending champs were chumps, at least for an afternoon.  And when the scoreboard operator dude showed satan manning’s failure on 4th down, to seal defeat in St. Louis, the noise got even louder.  We’ve caught denver!  And they still have to come into the insane asylum known as Arrowhead, and somehow beat this team!

* I guess I’ll begin to close the recap with this.  September closed with me sitting next to a kid named Brooks all game long, for the single greatest sporting event I’ve ever attended.  (And nothing anytime soon is topping it … and yes, I typed that specifically to ensure, something does top it.)  Sunday, a kid named Blake sat in front of me.  He was maybe seven, possibly eight.  (He looked “My Special Little Guy’s” age.)  Like Brooks on that magical Tuesday night, he stood on his chair all game long.  He cheered.  His daddy held him up, when he couldn’t see over the person in front of him.  And like Brooks, he saw a win nobody saw coming, as recently as two weeks ago.

As I was walking out the aisle on Sunday, Blake slapped me on the back, to celebrate the win.  I turned around, and he had the biggest smile on his face, and simply yelled “CHIEFS!” as he offered up his left hand for a high-five.

This game?  Was to him and his dad?  What December 7, 1986, was to me and my dad.

Welcome aboard, kid.

* “Steve!”  I haven’t heard that shout in a long time, walking out the aisle between 131 and 132 … but I heard it Sunday, and damn, was that one awesome hug with a girl who once texted me at 2:32am that “I want to use your body as a jungle gym!” 

* The walk out was real, and it was spectacular.  The Rumble was playing the Tomahawk Chop headed out the Hy-Vee Gate, and everyone (myself included) was pounding the side of the walkway.  Just pounding it.  Awesome stuff.

* Saw a few people headed out I try to always say hi to.  Enjoyed a quick Jello shot with Larry.  Enjoyed  a Fireball shot with Lindsey.  And once I got back to The Bus – and go figure, I’m usually the last one to arrive – had a great high-five with Ryan.  And then, this happened:

(jaimmie) Really?  You’re not gonna play it?
(stevo) I don’t want to lug the speakers out …
(ron) Play it.
(stevo) But the speaker –
(ryan) Play the godd*mned victory song!

So, I cranked up the phone as loud as I could, and you heard this:

“What is happening here?
Something’s going on, and it’s not quite clear.
Somebody turn on the lights;
We’re gonna have a party, starting tonight!

Oh!  What a feeling!
When we’re dancing on the ceiling!
Oh!  What a feeling!
When we’re dancing …”

* Postgame, not much to report.  Headed back to the Bus Barn, unloaded everything, and eventually we all headed our separate ways.  And since I’m in Day Five of “Don’t Have To Work For Eighteen Straight Days”, it ended wonderfully well.  (AKA, “I don’t remember how it ended; I passed out drunk”.)

Tomorrow, we leave for South Dakota, to watch the raiders game with some really great friends that always come down for the raiders game, and usually come down for a weekend or two in the summer. 

So I’ll close with this.  The 2006 Chiefs are my favorite Chiefs team of the last fifteen years.  Just like this Chiefs team?  They faced oakland and denver back to back, with one on a short week, the last two weeks of November.



I’m guessing I’m not the only person reading this, rooting for the same outcome, eight years later …

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 / ...