Wednesday, September 28, 2016

chiefs! jets! (tailgate!) curb stomp away! ...

“I’m gonna need you?
To raise your glass!
I don’t care what
You put in it.

Here’s to nights
That you can’t take back!
We live hard --
But we love to laugh!

We all thought that
We’d get rich fast;
Hop the plane out
For greener grass.

Found out the green?
Is cash –
And don’t compare?
To friends that last!

See, we won’t forget
Where we came from!
The city won’t change us!
We beat to the same drum!

No we won’t forget
Where we came from!
We beat to the same drum!
The same drum!

La da da da da da da!
La da da da da da doe!
It don’t matter where we from?
We always find our way back home!

La da da da da da da!
La da da da da da doe!
It don’t matter where we from?
We always find our way back home!

We always?
Find our way back home! …”


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Curb stomp.

According to that beacon of accuracy Wikipedia, a curb stomp is defined as “a form of assault in which a victim’s mouth is forcibly placed on a curb and then stomped from behind, cause severe injuries and sometimes death”.

Sadly, the sports world suffered two tragic deaths on Sunday.  Marlins ace Josh Fernandez died in a late night boating accident.  And The King, Arnold Palmer, passed away at the too young age of 87. 

But Sunday, at Terrorhead?

That was a curb stomping.  That was the most damned forceful performance I think I’ve ever seen a Chiefs defense put on, and folks, I’ve been going to games in that stadium since before I had a conscious memory.  Which come to think of it, might explain a few things about who and what I am.

The Jets had eleven possessions on Sunday.  They kicked three times to end them – one field goal, and two punts.

And normally, that’s a very good thing.  You want to kick as little as possible, if we’re being honest.  If you told me, for example, the Chiefs would have eleven possessions in a game, and only three would end with a kick, I’d think the Chiefs chances to win would be at least decent.  Because you’d expect at least a few of those other eight possessions to end with the Chiefs crossing the goalline, right?

Well, unfortunately for the Jets, those other eight possessions resulted in three fumbles (two recovered by the Chiefs), and six – SIX! – interceptions.  Also unfortunately for the Jets, two of those turnovers were taken to the house by the Chiefs.

The Chiefs accomplished this?  With their best defensive player out via injury, and with the front seven collecting exactly zero sacks.  No NFL game since 1986 had seen that many interceptions without a sack being recorded.  Sh*t folks, had the Chiefs forced one more turnover?  They would have tied the NFL record for most turnovers in a game.  (Anthony looked it up after turnover number seven.)

I noted in the predictions piece for this week that the Chiefs are going to get curb stomped in The Ketchup Bottle come Sunday night.  I might want to rethink that sentiment, given the outcomes of Sunday.

Because that, on Sunday, at Terrorhead?

The Chiefs delivered a curb stomping so violent and thorough, I honestly think the Jets will not recover from it.

That game Sunday, to quote one of my dad’s favorite, uuh, quotes?

“That was an ass kicking of Biblical proportions!”

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The Bus departed a little late, since we figured there was no way in hell there’d be enough people in line at 9am on a rainy, dreary, somewhat humid Sunday morning, to force the early-in gates to open even earlier than planned. 

And as usual, we were wr … wr … wr … possibly incorrect.

There were seven of us who rode out: myself, Russ and Mona, Anthony and Jaimmie, and Miranda, and Fran.  We got to Gate Seven a little before 9am … and the line was already backed up to Gate Six, to get in the early-in gate.  Donna, the nice lady who tries to keep everything organized in line (by confirming you do have an early-in parking pass) came by, knowing we do have said pass, exchanged pleasantries, and then said “there’s no way (the gate) won’t open by 9:30.  Line’s too long.”  This was at 9:08am.

So me, being the nice, decent dude I am approximately 2.46% of the time, did what any insane, irrational dude would do.  I grabbed my mimosa and began the walk to secure our spot … and to survey what the latest dumb f*ck parking setup the Chiefs have come up with looks like.

(Yo, Chiefs?  As I once again submitted in your STM Survey (maureen mcgovern voice) “the morning after”?  You want to seriously address and fix the parking issues you have?  Get a panel of 15-20 of us Season Ticket Members together in February – ideally one from each lot, with a few who park wherever – and let us fix it for you.  When in doubt?  Address the victim.  Because they’re f*cking tired of being victims.)

I headed down the hill through Gate Seven … and saw a parking attendant on a golf cart at the bottom of the hill, a couple law enforcement officials there as well, and as I approached our spot, I saw a new dude sitting on the rocks in the island, waiting to “help direct the flow of traffic”.

This, I thought?  Could not possibly be good. 

I, in hindsight?  Could not possibly have been more wrong.

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

When the early-in gate opened a little after 9:45am (earlier than the 10am early in posted time!), I approached the dude sitting on the rock in the island across from us.  The conversation as best I recall:

(me) hey.
(parking dude) hey.
(me) see that Bus coming down the hill? 
(me) (points at The Bus)
(parking dude) Yeah. 
(me) he’s hopefully going to be coming right here.  Then I’m going to pick up that cone, to let him pull into Lot G to turn around, so we’re headed out.  We’ll be on the grass over there (pointing to our spot).
(parking dude) Cool.
(me) Not going to be a problem?
(parking dude) Why would it be?
(me) because you see those (pointing to the port-a-potties)?
(parking dude) Yeah?
(me) because we’re about to move them.
(parking dude) OK.

And that is exactly what happened – The Bus went right past the golf cart parking folks, drove onto the grass, and I grabbed a cone to let Russ the Bus Man through into Lot G.  Anthony and I then moved the two port-a-potties down towards the dumpster (where they should be anyway), before moving a second cone to let The Bus pull into our usual spot.

And you know what happened after that?

Five f*cking hours of fun, that’s what.  Because nobody bothered us – or Roger’s crew next to us.  Nobody bothered the black bus to our left.  Nobody harassed the people entering.  Nobody stopped us from saving spots for Ron and Michelle, for some friends of Russ and Mona’s that came out, or for Brad – making his first appearance in nearly three years.

The parking attendants left us alone.

That, Kansas City Chiefs?  Is all we have EVER asked for!  Just leave us the f*ck aloneYou can steal our literal image and use it to sell your parking setup, without giving us a damned thing, and we’re cool with it.  Just leave us alone in return.

(Ours is the red bus on the right, with the green roof.)

If the parking setup Sunday is what we can expect going forward?

I’m perfectly fine with it.

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

We no sooner started unloading stuff, than … well …

(fran) what is that smell?
(me) (beyond excited)
(anthony) (beyond exited)
(me) I think we should go check it out, buddy!

Yup, the new neighbors in the black bus next door?  Like a medicially legal herbal product as much as I do.  And God bless, did it smell good.  And I mean good. 

If there’s one good thing about pushing 40, it’s that you just don’t give a sh*t about certain things now, one of those being propriety and decorum:

(me) can I hit it?
(dude next door named vince) depends. 
(me) on what?
(dude next door named vince) you got a Miller Lite?  My idiot brother forgot to buy some.
(me) I’ll be back momentarily.

And when I got back to The Bus:

(me) I need a couple Miller Lite’s please!
(jaimmie) already?
(me) yes, already!
(jaimmie) (realizes what I’m asking)
(jaimmie) but you don’t drink Miller Lite!
(me) just give me the damned bottles!

And with that, a truly “green” friendship was born, with the neighbors next door.  (sammy sosa voice) God bless America!  It’s a beautiful country!

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

We came so close.  So freaking close.

The Hy-Vee folks stopped by our tailgate a little before noon.  As I’ve mentioned before, our crew has won the Tailgaters of the Game twice before – Thanksgiving Night 2006 against satan’s squad, and a 2008 throwaway game against the Titans … when we probably won because we were like the only folks who showed up.  The group that tailgates next to us – Roger and his crew – won the honor in 2010 against (I think) the 49ers, and in 2014 against either the raiders or Chargers.  I just know it was f*cking cold when they won in 2014, so it had to be December.

Slacker (from 101 The Fox) recorded a commercial with us.  I know Ron got a video of it (I couldn’t; we use my iPhone for the music.)  According to Mr. Griffin, it aired on The Fox during the pregame.  (We’ve requested the .mp3 from them; it’s supposed to be emailed this week.  I’ll upload when / if it’s received.)  We also got a gift card from Hy-Vee that is either worth $10 … or $101 dollars.

We’ll find out Sunday what the value is, when buying the necessities for the Watch Party on The Deck, against my third most hated franchise in professional sports … and truth be told, I might hate the steelers, more than I hate the raiders.

(The winner on Sunday was a group farther down in Lot G … and we passed by them walking in.  They earned it.  No complaints; they had a rocking tailgate even I was jealous of.)

What I loved the most?  What made the Hy-Vee and 101 The Fox folks stop by and check us out?

Cinco Noose Donkey.

Or in the words of the Hy-Vee chick: “that … is awesome!”

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

My buddy Tim stopped by with his son, attending his first football game.  Jesus, it truly frightens me that someone my age has kids coherent and cognizant enough to understand football.  I’m only 39!  I’m too young for this!

For the record, his son and Anthony beat me and Miranda 21-16 at the bean bag game. 

And for the record, I scored 13 of our 16.

God bless, do I need Tyler to get healthy in a hurry.

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

Classic Speakers went over well … and man, did the new adapter work.  I guess going truly digital paid off, because we weren’t limited to the 88 and 107 channels.  Oh hell no!  We can now hijack any frequency not playing up and down the FM dial!

I admit, I had my doubts.  And one person (*cough Russ cough *) wasn’t exactly thrilled that bringing back Classic Speakers meaning bringing back the generator.  (In his defense, that is one heavy – and hot – bastardo.  My leg is still hurting from hitting it a few times.)

But sometimes?  You have to learn a valuable life lesson, one I wish a certain someone had realized four years ago – and honestly, this one should get Stevo Rule of Life designation status, it’s so obvious:

Don’t f*ck with what ain’t broken.

But if you are gonna f*ck with what ain’t broken?  Then make damn sure to at least Gorilla Glue the bastard back together, when you’re done f*cking with it!

I also gotta give a huge thumbs up to the new IOS 10.  Mixology now shows what is in the queue to play next!  There’s no more guessing, there’s no more “yeah, I swear, it’s like three songs away” lies that have to be told, to tailgaters wanting certain songs.  It shows what’s in the queue!  I think that’s cool.

The one funny moment from Mixology was when Jaimmie or Miranda (I forget which one) b*tched me out for not having “All I Do Is Win” in the rotation.  Which led to Anthony correctly reminding them that “he sent us the f*cking text asking what we wanted to hear on Tuesday!  You said nothing!  You can’t blame him for (your song not being there)!”

I hope the couch was comfortable dude.  I’m guessing you slept on it, after that response.

Now if we could just find a charcoal grill whose lid actually locks closed …

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

The menu adapted a bit because of some unforeseen stuff from Saturday.  I made the jalapeno poppers (and go figure – maybe two of those 150 plus survived the carnage), and there were brats, burgers and dogs.  But we also went with deli sandwiches you made yourself.  I went with my favorite, and I call it “The Stevo”.

“The Stevo” consists of the following (and I should note, I call it “The Stevo” not out of pure arrogance and a self-inflated sense of worth (although both apply to me) … but because the sandwich lady in the cafeteria at work (an awesome chick named Vickie, who doubles as the best damned barista I’ve had since college – seriously, I’m drinking caffeine again every Friday solely and only due to her coffee making skills), named it “The Stevo”, since I order it at least once a week … and damned if at least one other person in line behind me, doesn’t request the same thing, every single time.

Sh*t folks, even “Chairman Dao” gave it a try … and liked it!  And that man despises me like … well, like I despise him.  Anyways, here you go.

“The Stevo”:

* generous helping of roast beef.
* generous helping of turkey.
* generous helping of sharp cheddar cheese.
* NOT toasted.  (That’s the key, I think.)
* banana peppers – I prefer just a few, but you can never have too many, I think.
* tomato slices.  Total depends on how big a bun / hoagie you’re working with.
* spinach.  Because lettuce sucks.
* chipotle ranch dressing.  Although as I discovered Sunday, dijon mustard does the trick as well … just not as well, as chipotle ranch dressing.
* ideally fresh cracked pepper … but pepper in a shaker works too.
* and some green onions splashed on there to boot.

Piled on white bread.  Although I’ve settled for having one on a tomato, as well as a spinach, tortilla wrap … and I had no complaints on either one.  If anything, the wraps made “The Stevo” slightly better.  But I still prefer two gigantic Texas toast sized white bread slices.

Oh – and two pickle spears on the side, with those sea salt and vinegar chips that are so damned addicting, I think they’re a bigger health crisis than crack, meth, and heroin combined.

Tell me that isn’t one amazing sandwich.

Because I had to make it, for four – four! – different people on Sunday, they were so impressed, watching me make mine.

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

We broke down late from tailgating, because honestly, nobody wanted to leave, and people kept showing up.

I mentioned earlier that our buddy Brad (from Roger’s tailgate next door) made his first appearance in almost three years.  He looked … different.  Not in a bad way.  Just … settled.  I guess that’s a good word, settled.  And good for him. 

His dad Bruce, on the other hand, was far from settled.  He was embarrassed.  So embarrassed, he sent Roger over a little after 11am, to have this conversation:

(roger) So I need to ask a small favor.
(me) ok.
(roger) Did you bring any vodka?
(me) (literally crying from laughing so hard)
(me) yeah, we have some.
(roger) Bruce left his in the fridge in the garage.
(me) you need one bottle, or two?
(roger) You people bring that much?!?!?!

For the record, Bruce makes THE best Bloody Mary’s you will ever have.  It’s tradition – we head over with the stiffest mimosa’s you’ll ever have, and they offer us Bruce’s Bloody Mary’s in return, usually about 8:30 for a noon kickoff (in this case, 11am for a 3:30 kickoff). 

For some reason, I’m glad the Tito’s Vodka, finally made it into one of his Bloody Mary’s.

(Tito’s Vodka: the official vodka of Stevo’s Site Numero Dos!  (Pause).  What?  You’d expect ANYTHING else?!?!?! #teamtito)

Amongst the others to flow in on Sunday were Phil and the Bulance crew, our friends from St. Louis we met last week, and of course, “New Jersey Bob”, who literally flew in from, uuh, New Jersey, for this game, with his brother and his son, who I literally … I just have to admit it, I guess.

(me) holy f*cking sh*t!
(chase) what?
(me) Jesus f*cking Christ!
(chase) what?  What did I do?  I just f*cking got here!  I just wanted to have a fun da --
(me) no!  It’s nothing you did dude!  It’s just … are you Chadwick Pennington?
(chase) (laughing)
(chase) I get that a lot, actually.
(me) I so should have worn your jersey today.
(chase) Chase.  (extends hand for handshake).
(me) Stevo.  And hey – you aren’t fooling me, Chadwick!  (extends hand for handshake).

Folks, the kid looks EXACTLY like Stevo’s Site Numero Dos’ Official Favorite Quarterback of All Time, Sir Chadwick Pennington, who piloted the Jets from 2002-2007.  I asked Mona to send me the picture(s) she took of me and “Sir Chadwick”, as I took to calling Chase, so that I could post a picture.  The kid looks EXACTLY like my irrational man crush (NFL Edition) from the early 2000s. 

And yes – I do have a Chadwick Pennington jersey.  It is amongst my most priziest of prizy possessions, in my life.

If “priziest” and “prizy” are words. 

Which I guess they now are.

Also, we’re now “officially” on the hook, to go to the Chiefs / Jets game at the Fake Meadowlands next fall, to “return the honor of tailgating with you”. 

Jesus – next year the Chiefs have roadies at the Cowboys, Jets, “satan’s squad”, potentially Houston (we visit the AFC South team that lands in the same slot in the standings as the Chiefs), and possibly Las Vegas, when / if the “evil empire” moves.  (As well as the Giants, the Patriots, and wherever the hell the Chargers wind up calling home.)

And I’m still staring the trip to Sioux Falls for oakland in three weeks, the trip to Indy for the Colts in five, the trip to the eighth layer of hell itself in nine weeks for satan’s squad, and my cousin wants me to head south to Atlanta for that one in ten weeks, and I want to spend my 40th birthday on a beach in the southern-most part of California, for the Chargers to open 2017!

(Pause).

I’ll be living under a bridge in a worn out cardboard box, in barely twelve months, to make all that work financially …

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

Since I prefer to let the professionals recap the game, while I give you the highlights you otherwise wouldn’t witness, I’m only going to mention two specific moments from the game itself.

1. My favorite, bar none moment, was Marcus Peters “pulling” DJ across the goalline on DJ’s pick six.  DJ has just outrun the entire Jets offense to rumble and stumble nearly sixty yards to the east end zone.  And as he gets to the 2, 1 ½ yard line, Marcus Peters grabs his jersey to help pull him in.  (jim mora jr voice) It was really neat!

2. About halfway through the first quarter, security makes their way to where I was sitting.  And once they reached where they were going, it made total sense.  The dude sitting across the aisle from me was passed out drunk, and I mean passed out.  As in “his neighbors were fearing he was dead” drunk.

The security dude shook him.  Tried tapping him.  Even semi-slapped him.  He wasn’t waking up … in any part of his body, except one.

Because no sooner did the attempt to wake him begin?  Then oh yeah, the steady stream of urination began.  Dude pissed himself wetter than a river.  There was a gigantic puddle underneath him, and his tan shorts were a lovely shade of watery.  (For those of you who wonder why I never wear anything but dark and/or heavily colored pants and shorts?  As always, I plan drunk!)

Needless to say, he didn’t witness any of the six interceptions the Chiefs participated in creating on Sunday.

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Not much to report from after the game.  We waited out the traffic, had another mini-tailgate, made it back to the Bus Barn about 7:30, just in time for kickoff in Dallas.  I was asleep by 9:30; I just don’t have the stamina I did ten, twelve years ago, to stay up for the prime time game after a day of tailgating and football viewing.  Does this mean I’m old?  I guess it does.

But hey.  At least no matter where I go?

I always find, my way back home.

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And so, begins what might be one of – if not the – most pivotal weeks of the season.

Two credible Super Bowl contenders, duking it out on Sunday Night Football, in the most underrated rivalry that exists in the National … Football League.

If the Chiefs and Steelers both play like they did on Sunday?  The Chiefs will win this game, and it won’t be even remotely competitive.  Because the Chiefs curb stomped the Jets … and the Steelers got curb stomped by the Eagles.

And that’s why my belief entering last weekend, that Pittsburgh was going to once again, in the words of Clark Judge ten years ago, “use the Chiefs as their own personal urinal”, is being re-thought.  Who tore the Steelers a new one on Sunday?  Former Chiefs offensive coordinator / play caller Doug Pederson.  Who basically stole “Fat” Andy’s playbook and took it to Philly with him.

I’m really intrigued by this matchup on Sunday night.  Really intrigued.

Next post will probably be the picks.  There probably won’t be much to it; I have month and quarter end duties beginning Thursday, and my co-worker is spending month and quarter end on a cruise in the Caribbean.  (Which is great; she’s earned it.  God knows she covered my ass two of the last three years, as I ditched year-end duties to travel to Chiefs playoff games.)

I can tell you the Watch Party Plans are to be on the deck at Russ and Mona’s.  We’ll have plenty of food and booze; we’re gonna put the fire pit to use as well.  Should be fun.  Or at least mildly entertaining.

Plus, this is the only game this year we’re guaranteed to use The Deck for – we’re headed to Sioux Falls for the raiders game, to watch it with our raider friends on their turf (as we always do, and they always come here for the game as well), and I’m going to the game in Indy with (at least) Anthony.  The next roadie after that is Carolina in mid-November; it might be too cold to set things up outside by then.  And I’m planning to go to denver with the Springfield wing of our tailgating crew. 

So until next time – hey?


(sgt. esterhaus voice) Let’s be careful out there

Thursday, September 22, 2016

week three: let's roll ...

“That (coaching box)’s got the sun going down behind it.
If there’s a good time in this town?  Girl, we’re gonna find it.

You look so damn good, climbing up in my Chevy!
I tried to play it cool, but I knew already
By the way you looked in the dashboard light?
It was gonna be one of those nights.

Got the Kenwoods banging the rock and roll!
Whisper to me baby, where you wanna go!
I can ride you round town,
Or drive you down some old back road!

I love the way
You lean that seat back,
Steal my ballcap,
Pull it down over your blue eyes!

Watching your hair fly,
Out the window,
Just lettin’ the night roll –
And I can’t wait to see where it goes! …”

-- “Lettin’ The Night Roll” by Justin Moore.  God above, I love -- I mean freaking LOVE -- 3:25pm kickoffs at home ... especially in late September / early October ...

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

Last Week SU: 7-9-0.
Season to Date SU: 14-18-0.

Last Week ATS: 8-8-0.
Season to Date ATS: 15-17-0.

Last Week Upset / Week: winner!
Season to Date Upset / Week SU: 1-1-0.
Season to Date Upset / Week ATS: 2-0-0.
This Week’s Upset O’ The Week: Patriots (+1/2) over Texans.  I mean, seriously – the Patriots are a home underdog?  In the words of snarky cat lawyer Mousey McDermott: “you have GOT to be kitten me!”

Last Week SUCK: oh buddy!
Season to Date SUCK: 2-0-0.
This Week’s SUCK O’ The Week: Packers (-4 ½) to depants the Lions at Lambeau.  Hide the women and children – this one is the proverbial only game playing on every television in the eighth layer of hell itself.

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

(Note: the SUCK gets credit for being wrong, because it's my favorite bet on the board.  So if you're hurting for some extra money for Junior's diaper fund, load up on Detroit!)

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

The Non-Chiefs, Non-Jets Pigskin Prognostications.

(Sadly, still porn star free.)

(Also, all odds as always pulled from Danny Sullivan, via USA Today.)

* at Patriots (+ ½) 28, Texans 20.  Are you sh*tting me?  The Patriots are home underdogs?  When the hell was the last time that happened?  This, and the Texans are not all that and a bag of chips, folks.  The Red and Gold gave that game away last week.

* at Bills (+4) 27, “Super” Cardinals 20.  A fascinating cross-conference matchup.  Desperate Buffalo – already 0-2 and staring the Patriots in Foxboro looming next week; a chance for the “Super” Cardinals to get the season back on track by stealing a road win.  Sexy Rexy will throw everything – up to and including the proverbial kitchen sink – to ensure the Bills’ playoff goose isn’t cooked before September ends.

* raiders 31 (+1), at Titans 13.  Who’d have thunk these two squads would both win their road openers?  And even more ridiculously, the Titans are favored?!?!?!  This is the second line so far that makes no f*cking sense to me.

* Redskins (+4 ½) 24, at Giants 20.  I refuse to believe the ‘Skins are this awful.  And I refuse to believe the Giants are this good.

* at Dolphins (-6) 7, Browns 0.  This might be the Good Times Game O’ The Year, not just of Week Three.

* at Jaguars (pick) 34, Ravens 14.  You hate to call Week Three a “must win game” … but this is one desperate Jaguars squad, staring a trip to London to face the even more desperate Colts next week. 

* at Packers (-4) 45, Lions 10ALF Game O’ The Week.  Also, only four?  The line is only four?  I’m halfway tempted to actually wager on this.

* at Bengals (-2 ½) 20, satan’s squad 10.  Without question – (allard baird voice) without question! – the best early game on the board.  These two staged an epic game to close out the Monday Night schedule last year – a game that had Cincinnati held on to win, would have vauled the Chiefs to the conference’s top seed.  (“house of wings” voice) That’s bad, Bengals.  That’s really, really bad.

* at Panthers (-7 ½) 31, Vikings 20.  I might need to rethink the previous paragraph’s opening sentence.

* at Seahawks 24, 49ers (+10 ½) 14.  The Niners are feisty.  But not so feisty that they’re winning in Seattle.

* at Buccaneers (-5) 31, Rams 14Webster Game O’ The Week.

* at Colts (-2 ½) 34, “Super” Chargers 27.  I never – and I mean never – bet against a proven veteran team, at home, with the season on the line.  No matter how many times it blows up in my face.

* Steelers 27, at Eagles (+3 ½) 24.  If the Niners are feisty, then the Eagles are frisky.  But not so frisky they’re going to upset the Steelers.

* at Cowboys (-8) 28, Bears 10.  I guarantee you whoever the hell runs Sunday Night Football will harass the NFL this week to give NBC the ability to flex every Sunday night game.  Because this one is horrible.  And I would have said that even if Jay Cutler was playing.

* at Saints (-3) 38, “Shane” Falcons 17.  The only people who won’t be watching the most anticipated debate in our nation’s history on Monday night, will be the 70,000 some odd folks that pack the Superdome.  And I’m guessing at least 20,000 of those 70,000, will have what damned well might be Secretary Clinton’s last stand, streaming on their phone. 

The Fab Five:

A fond look back at five meaningful plays, games, and moments in the Jets / Chiefs (not even remotely a) rivalry.

5. Rise and Walk.  1992, in the Real Meadowlands, Chiefs QB Dave Krieg managed to avoid a Jets blitz.  Sadly, Jets DE Dennis Byrd couldn’t avoid his teammate after Mr. Krieg avoided his blitz, and he broke one of the vertebra in his neck as a result.  Thankfully, Mr. Byrd today has for the most part recovered from the injury … but that play ended his promising career with the Jets.

4. Stevo Gets Assaulted … at Arrowhead?!?!?!  Yup, it happened – the season opener in 2005.  I had a couple Jets fans sitting behind me, and they apparently took tremendous offense to my shouting “Chiefs!” to close the National Anthem.  So they did what any classy Jets fan would do: they threw beer at me.  Not “accidentally drunk stumbled and spilled”, oh hell no.  They launched those suckers.  Needless to say, they were gone-zo by kickoff, thanks to our good friends in the security detail at Arrowhead.

The idiocy that tops it all?  I absolutely had my Jets hat on.  They assaulted a dude who roots for the Jets against every team other than the Chiefs.  Who says Jets fans aren’t the best and the brightest?

And what those two missed, as a result of their intolerance of this dual loyalty dude?

3. The sweetest opening drive of the Richard A. Vermeil Era.  That beer-soaked afternoon saw the Chiefs win the toss and choose to receive.  They started at their 23 yard line.  Three plays and 77 yards later, they were in the west end zone, kicking off a Perfect Stevo Day en route to a 27-7 win.

The beauty of this drive?  The Chiefs called the exact same play, back to back to back.  Priest offtackle left, Priest offtackle left, LJ offtackle left.  They threw the same exact play at the Jets three straight snaps … and the Jets were powerless to stop them.

2. The Chiefs roo-een the beginning of the Chadwick Pennington era.  The 2002 Chiefs, coming off my favorite game of the Richard A. Vermeil Era (a 48-30 absolute depantsing of the unbeaten Dolphins ... and what many argue is my finest hour, as a sh*tty writer), traveled to the Real Meadowlands for a Week Five matchup.  The game went back and forth, and was tied at 15 entering the fourth quarter.  Then, the fun began.

Chadwick to Santana “Doo Doo Doo Do Doo!” Moss for a touchdown bomb.

Trent Green to Dante “The Human Joystick” Hall for a touchdown bomb.

A Jets field goal with a little less than three to play to give Gang Green the lead … until Trent Green calmly and methodically marched the Chiefs down the field, and threw a simple little screen pass to Priest Holmes with 0:30 to play.  Nineteen yards later, the Chiefs had the lead, 29-25, and then survived a late Jets drive to escape with the win.

Good stuff.

1. The first Chiefs playoff game of my life.  The AFC Wild Card game in 1986, a game the Jets blew the Chiefs out in, 35-15.  Still, it’s the most significant Chiefs / Jets (coach don fambrough voice) showdown, throwdown, hoedown, of my nearly forty year existence.

The Tailgating Plans:

We are keeping things relatively simple for this one, since we have to pace ourselves with the extra three hours to play with.

Menu is for brats, dogs, and burgers, plus assorted side dishes.  I’m going to make the jalapeno poppers again (since you people ate every last one of them.  No, seriously – 140 of those things, gone-zo in barely an hour.  Unreal.)

I’m sure there will be a healthy assortment of adult beverages to choose from as well.

I secured the early-in pass on Monday.  The Bus leaves no later than 8:30 for the First Church of Terrorhead.  The early-in is supposed to get us in at 10am.  But my “highly placed confidential source who speaks only on condition of anonymity” (aka “Rufus”), thinks the early-in will be at 9, and the main gates once the backup reaches Stadium Drive.

And yes, I have seen the forecast for Sunday.  It’s still three days out.  Forecasts can change.  Let’s all hope and pray the cold front stalls, and gives us one last perfect day of summer.

But if it does rain?  Well, we’ve (luke bryan voice) been there done that before.  We’ll be ready.

Also – and this actually is important – Classic Speakers are returning!  I bought the adapter.  I tested it last Thursday.  It works!  (Note: I’m not sure what stuns me more: I delivered on a promise to you … or Russ the Bus Man fixed the cigarette lighter on a bus that is 53 years (harrison ford in “clear and present danger” voice) and change, old.  Either way, I’m fine with it.)

We will not be hurting for sound this week.  Or any more weeks to come.

Sobriety?  Yes.  Hurting.  But sound?  No.  Never again.

(Pause).

Wow, yet ANOTHER #never, in the year of #never!  So adding that to the list, Stevo’s Site Numero Dos’ Official Hash Tag Never listing now is:

#nevertrump
#neverdenver
#neveragain

Three nevers.  That makes me think of this song, actually.

The “Klassy” Kevin Keitzman Tweet O’ The Week:

Ol’ Klassy has sent exactly one tweet in the last three days, and it was a retweet from the Chiefs, noting that they face the Jets this week.  God, how I long for the alleged days, when pulling one's pants up, was an alleged command, from law enforcement.

Inside “Mixology”:

Where I explain why one of the songs guaranteed to be heard at the tailgate, is guaranteed to be heard at the tailgate.

This week’s selection is “Innocent” by Our Lady Peace.

In the interest of full disclosure, this is on my Mount Rushmore of Songs in life.  (The other three being “Somewhere Only We Know” by Keane, “I Don’t Want To Be” by Gavin DeGraw, and “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Sir Elton John.)

This, peoples and peepettes, is what I listen to on the walk into Arrowhead.  Because if you aren’t fired up after hearing this song, if you aren’t ready to (drew magary voice) run through a godd*mned brick wall after hearing this song?

Then you’ll never get the impact music can have on life.

Give it a listen.  I don’t think you’ll regret it.

The Jets “Fling It And Pray” Prognostication …

And …

The Chiefs Prediction:

Normally for Alumni Weekend, I type up a quick blurb honoring my favorite (and least favorite) Chiefs from the past, drop in a few cheap shots at “69, offense” – which to be fair, aren’t really cheap shot, Jeff Criswell was that atrocious of a lineman – say a few choice prepared remarks about the inductee (this year, it is former Chief and Jet Tony Richardson), and mail in a prediction.

(bill vinovich voice) “Holding, 69, offense.  Ten yard penalty, replay the down.”

Sorry, I couldn’t resist at least one.

But I’m not going to do it this year. 

I’m not going to write a passionate plea to show up.  Do I want each and every Chiefs fan reading this to make an appearance?  Of course I do.  The fewer Jets fans in the building, the better.  Do I think this game might possibly define the season?  Of course I do.  The Chiefs are staring 1-3 in the face if they drop this one.  (Sorry folks – hate to spoil next week’s prediction, but the Chiefs are going to get stomped in the Steel City.) 

Am I going to catch crap because in all likelihood, I’ll wear the Jets hat with a Chiefs t-shirt?  I would hope so.  I’d frankly be disgusted with each and every one of you, if you didn’t at least drop a “f*ck your hat!” comment at me.

I am terrified of this contest.  And I mean terrified.  As in “holy f*cking sh*t, Donald J Trump “House of Wings” is one flipped state away from being the favorite with only six weeks to go!” terrified.  Just like with the election?  This one ain't gonna be easy.  (Dammit.  Because I agree -- how the hell isn't Secretary Clinton up fifty points?)

But I truly believe, despite the 74 minute and some odd second struggle this is going to be?  It will be a win.

(damien voice) NO!  NO!  You are NOT allowed to predict a close, specific outcomeYou nail these way too often!

Sorry dude.  I am.  Because I do.

* at Chiefs (-2 ½) 23, Jets 20 (OT).

It just wouldn’t be an epic Chiefs season, unless a few overtime victories at home to open it, was involved.

Hope to see y’all out there.  And as always: anyone and everyone, irregardless of who you are or happen to be, is always welcome, wanted, and appreciated, at the best tailgating spot at Arrowhead, the grassy knoll north of the G30 sign.  We don’t discriminate, we don’t leave out, we don’t leave behind, we don’t refuse to invite or include.  Even if you discriminate, leave out, leave behind, and refuse to invite and include.  Black, white, gay, straight, Clintonista or “House of Wings-ist”, we don’t care.

We’re here to see where the night rolls, no matter how you, uuh, roll.


And I’m damned ready to see where it goes …

Saturday, September 17, 2016

week two: deep in the (bowels) of texas ...

“Take that look of worry –
Mine’s an ordinary life.
Working when there’s daylight,
And sleeping when it’s night.

I’ve got no far horizons;
I don’t wish upon a star.
They don’t think that I listen?
But I know who they are!

And I?
I don’t mind.
No, I?
I don’t mind.

Oh I?
I don’t mind.
No – I?
I don’t mind!

So take?
Take me home!
‘Cause I don’t remember?
Take!  Take me home!

‘Cause I don’t remember!
Take!  Take me home!
‘Cause I don’t remember!
Take!  Take me home!

Oh Lord!

Well I’ve been a prisoner all my life!
And I can say to you –

I don’t remember!
Take!  Take me home!
‘Cause I don’t remember!
Take!  Take me home!

‘Cause I don’t remember!
Take!  Take me home!
Because I don’t remember!
Take!  Take me home!!!!!!!!!!!! …”


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Last Week SU: 7-9-0.
Season to Date SU: 7-9-0.

Last Week ATS: 7-9-0.
Season to Date SU: 7-9-0.

Last Week’s Upset O’ The Week: covered!
Season to Date Upset / Week SU: 0-1-0.
Season to Date Upset / Week ATS: 1-0-0.
This Week’s Upset O’ The Week: Eagles (+3) over Bears. 

Last Week’s SUCK: you asked, I delivered!
Season to Date SUCK: 1-0-0 *
This Week’s SUCK: raiders (-5) to absolutely depants the “Shane” Falcons.  The evil empire is going to make the Falcons sweat, curse, and regret showing up more?  Then me at Mass.

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

(*: the SUCK gets credit for being wrong, since it’s my favorite bet on the board, and I am the worst professional football prognosticator you’ll ever read.  Last week I said Seattle would pole-axe Miami.  I hope you got a few extra Chrismukkah gifts for the kids, and some Hormel chili for the dog, by loading up on the Dolphins.)

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

The Non-Jets, Non-Chiefs Predictions:

* Bengals 28 (+3), at Steelers 24.  Wayne Allyn Root Memorial Contrarian Game O’ The Week.

* at Lions 31 (-6), Titans 6ALF Game O’ The Week.

* Ravens 17 (-6), at Browns 0Hit it!

* at Redskins 24 (-3), Cowboys 20.  Second toughest game on the board to pick.  Not sold on this at all.

* Saints 52 (+4 ½), at Giants 49.  Please God, somehow, let this rematch be even greater than their shootout at the Dome last November.  Please.

* at Panthers 49 (-14), 49ers 3.  Good God, how awful are the Rams? 

* at Patriots 27 (-6 ½), Dolphins 10Webster Game O’ The Week.  And yeah, this one is not going to be competitive or watchable, at all.  If anything, I’ve given the Pats at least ten too few points, and the Dolphins at least ten too many.

* at Rams 16 (+6 ½), Seahawks 13Don’t ask me why.

* Buccaneers 31 (+7), at “Super” Cardinals 21.  Just seems right.

* Jaguars 34 (+3), at “Super” Chargers 21.  The Jags have never won in San Diego.  There’s a first time for everything.  (That’s what she said!)

* at raiders 45 (-5), “Shane” Falcons 7.  They can’t make this line high enough.  It could be forty, and I’d still contemplate laying the points.  The raiders are for real.  The “Shane” Falcons are the NFC’s worst team.  And I’m fully aware the Rams play in the NFC.

* Colts 41 (+6), at satan’s squad 24.  I wanted to make this my official Upset O’ The Week, but I want this outcome to happen too much, to doom it.  Look it, those people lose that opener to Carolina 9 times out of 10 playing like they did.  They’ll lose 10 out of 10 to the Colts if those people play on Sunday, like they did last Thursday.  Which they will (lose).  Because they will (play like the worst team in the stadium).  #neverdenver

* at Vikings 27 (+3), Packers 24 (OT).  The Vikings better win this one.  Green Bay doesn’t play away from Lambeau after Sunday night?  Until Halloween.  And no, that is not a typo – four straight home games and the bye.  Absolutely ridiculous.

* Eagles 27 (+3), at Bears 10.  You want to know how little the NFL thinks of Monday Night Football?  They give us this matchup, between two squads going nowhere anytime soon.  You REALLY want to know how little the NFL thinks of Monday Night Football?  Jeff Triplette is your ref for this one

The Fab Five:

A fond (or not so fond) look back at the five biggest moments in Texans / Chiefs history.

5. Marcus Peters’ first pass defended in his career, is returned to the house, to give the Chiefs a lead they’d never relinquish, Week One 2015.  God bless, did this set the tone for what one assumed would be a glorious 11-5 season, culminating in the first playoff victory in 22 years.  (Pause).  Wait, what?  It did?  Well who’d have thunk it! 

(Certainly not me.  Leaving wherever the hell the Vikings played last year, to drop to 1-5, I believe the exact text I sent was “unlike the team across the parking lot, these guys quit every chance they get”.  Whoops!)

4. A last second field goal drops the Chiefs to 0-3, Week Three 2004.  The last day of Chiefs football as I – and so many of you – were raised to know it.  It seems unimaginable it’s been twelve years.

3. LJ graduates to boxers, Week Eleven 2005.  Former Chiefs coach Dick Vermeil jokingly referred to having to “take the diapers” off Larry Johnson entering the 2005 season.  After graduating to briefs in the raiders game in Week Eight, LJ arrived on this Sunday night – 36 carries, 211 yards, 2 touchdowns, and the Chiefs won a laugher 45-17, to keep their playoff hopes alive, entering the defining homestand of 2005: the Patriots … and satan’s squad.  One of the funnest three week stretches of my fanhood of this team, that’s for sure.

2. Dante Hall to the house, Week Three 2003.  I ask this with all sincerity: has any special teamer in NFL history had a greater season, than Dante Hall had in 2003?  Four straight games, Dante had a punt or kick returned for a touchdown – Week Two against Pittsburgh, Week Three against Houston, Week Four against the Ravens (it was the game winner), and Week Five against satan’s squad (ditto – and the second greatest kick return in Chiefs franchise history.  Sorry Dante – you ain’t topping my favorite play of all time, Tamarick Vanover against the Chargers in 1995.  Although the top moment to come, might have been bigger than either your or Mr. Vanover’s returns.)  


Or as Ryan so perfectly nailed it:

(section 123, nrg reliant stadium)
(ryan) He’s taking this to the house.
(me) Jesus dude, you are hammered!
(ryan) (grabs my t-shirt)
(ryan) (shouting into my face) He’s taking this?  To the mother f*cking house!
(me) (somewhat frightened) ok.

Fifteen seconds later:

(ryan) I told you!  I f*cking told you!
(ryan and stevo) (massive man hug)

Ain’t we lucky we got ‘em?  Good times!!!!

Inside Mixology:

A fond look into why one of songs to appear on Mixology, uuh, appears.

This week’s song?


The tradition – as best I can remember – started Week Four 2008, when after 344 days of utter and total nonstop defeat, the Chiefs gave a performance for the ages, beating the donkeys to end a twelve game losing streak.  When I finally made it back to The Bus, this was the first song that popped on the cd in the stereo.  (Note: was it really only eight years ago CD’s drove the music, and not my phone?  Holy sh*tballs Batman!)

I thought it was perfect.  “Oh what a feeling!”  And so, for every Chiefs victory since, the first song that will play for the postgame music, is “Dancing On The Ceiling”.  And for every Chiefs victory that feels wrapped up entering the home stretch, many of you will begin to get a series of texts that always start with:

“What is happening here”

Then:

“Something’s going on, but it’s not quite clear”

Followed by:

“Somebody turn out the lights”

And as I exit the stadium:

“We’re gonna have a party?  Starting tonight!”

(Admit it, you are dying to sing the lyrics out loud at this point.  It’s ok.  I’ll join you!)

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

You’re welcome.  Just please apologize to the person in the stall next to you, for channeling your inner Lionel Richie these last ten seconds.  He / she / whatever the f*ck he/she thinks he/she is?  Will thank you for it.

The “Klassy” Kevin Keitzman Tweet O’ The Week:

This week’s is a retweet … and I wish I’d seen it first, to uuh, retweet it:




(Pause).

Jesus God Above, 

I’d kill at this point to move back.

The Jets Fling It And Hope It Sticks Best Guess:

Hey, I nailed this one!



The Chiefs Prognostication:

On my sixteenth birthday (that would be January 3, 1993), the Kansas City Chiefs traveled to San Diego, to face the “Super Chargers” in a Wild Card round game.  The “Super” Chargers were like the 2015 Chiefs – they opened horribly … only to rally to 11-5, and won the AFC West.  (The 1992 “Super” Chargers are the only team in NFL history to open 0-4, and make the playoffs.)  The 1992 Chiefs weren’t terrible – they went 10-6, beat a few decent squads along the way … and swept the “Super” Chargers.  (The only game San Diego lost after Week Four, was at Arrowhead.)

And I still recall – because we were running an illegal gambling pool through study hall, after all – that “The Voice of Reason” picked the Chiefs to lose.  

I was stunned.  

Fifteen / sixteen year old me couldn’t believe it.  “How can you root against us dude?” I probably said.

I do, however, remember the response.

“The hardest thing in football is to beat a team three times in one year”.

That is the task the Chiefs face Sunday – beating the Texans for the third time in a year.

With all three games being staged in what is still the finest facility I’ve ever set foot in for a football game **, NRG Reliant Stadium.

(**: wow, it took this long to get a second *?  I’m impressed!  Anyways, for football, it’s the best facility / setup I’ve been in.  And I’ve been to about thirty percent of the facilities still in use.  That number dropped significantly because I’ve now been to two – two! – stadiums the Vikings have played in, that are no longer in use, for NFL football, as of Sunday night.)

Winning three times, against the same team, in their building, in twelve months?

In baseball, basketball, hockey, soccer, possibly jai alai, (fidelity ad guy voice) why not?

But in football?

Seriously?

Just like with the Presidential Election?

There’s only one credible pick I can make for this game.

And that pick is for th – (pause).  What?  (Pause).  What the hell do you mean, I just got an urgent text!  Who the hell texts me as I’m typing up the picks, knowing what the pick is going to be, Mrs. Stevo’s Site Numero Dos Non-Existent Editor Dudette?  What, are you angling for the Never Going To Happen Ombudsman Position?

(Pause).  Fine, send it through.

(damien voice) You forgot five words tito, in your Upset O’ The Week pick.
(stevo voice) I did?
(damien voice) The Chiefs are underdogs, tito.  (Pause).  Where the f*ck are those five words?

(Pause).  Wait, how do you send a (pause) through a text?

Well, anyway.  What counts is this:

Those five words?

They’re right here, dude.

The Chiefs Prediction?

(stevo sighing in disgust). 

(stevo stating the obvious five words voice).

Take a mother f*cking guess.

* Chiefs (+2) 34, Texans 13.

And a (cameo voice) word up, to everyone regarding next week: 

This is the tailgate?  

You don’t want to miss!  

We have Jets fans coming in from Jersey.  The Chica is allegedly coming.  (Insert your "that's what he/she said joke here.)  

Trust me -- she'll laugh at it.  

(Pause).  

(brett voice) Aw!  Sh*t!  I just opened up another "insert joke here" line into this post!)  

And we have an extra three hours to get “properly medicated”, thanks to our good friends at the NFL Schedule Guru Headquarters, and at CBS, for giving us the late national game slot against … (brett voice) Aw!  Sh*t!  We face the Jets! 

(stevo voice) Do I wear the Jets hat or not …


Stay tuned for that painful decision.  (Pause).  Which really isn't painful.

Not nearly as much, as this must be:


#NEVERdenver #nevertrump

#sorrybutthatshowifeel

#dealwithit

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

chiefs! chargers! where the significance of my old buddy 13, finally hits home ...

“All my days are spent;
All my cards are dealt.
Oh, the desolation grows!

Every entry filled
As my heart is pierced.
Oh, my soul is now exposed!

In the oceans deep?
In the canyons steep?
Walls of granite?  Here I stand.

All my desperate calls?
Echo off the walls.
Back and forth, then back again.

To believe I walk alone?
Is a lie that
I’ve been told.

So let your heart hold fast –
For this soon shall pass!
Like the high tide?  Takes the sand! …”


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

“F*ck yeah!  F*ck yeah!  (Massive fist pumps!)”

OK, pop quiz time, readers and readettes.  Who reacted like that at 3:48pm CT on Sunday, September 11, 2016?  Was it:

a: Me, in stunned disbelief at the Chiefs 33-27 overtime victory over the San Diego “Super” Chargers
b: “House of Wings”, in stunned disbelief at Secretary Clinton collapsing during the 9/11 memorial in New York, turning an already bat sh*t crazy election even more bat sh*t crazy, a mere eight weeks out from Election Day?
c: Joel Goldberg enduring yet another Salvy Splash after a Royals victory
d: Alex Smith’s reaction to his game-winning touchdown being upheld by the booth?

The answer is d … although to be fair, b might be true as well.

But the one I can confirm is d, and I gotta admit, as that moment unfolded, as Alex Smith capped the greatest comeback in Chiefs history by punching it in the corner of the end zone I sit in, as he fist pumped his way around the lower bowl shouting “f*ck yeah!”?

I’ve rarely if ever been prouder of the leader, of the Right Fifty Three.

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

The Bus departed for the game at 6:10am exactly.  I know this, because I was there, along with Russ the Bus Man, Mona, Anthony, Jaimmie, Miranda, and “Tony and Lisa”, who came in from Omaha for the opener.

We got in the early in line at a little after 6:20am.  The line was already backed up out of Gate Seven, back onto Stadium Drive in both directions – back past Gate Six to the west, almost back to the new bridge over The Dred (aka I-70) to the east.  I headed down, unsure of what to expect.  My “highly placed confidential source”, the artist known as “Rufus”, had promised their edict for Sunday was to enforce the new tailgating regulations within the lots – namely, keep the aisles clear.  He assured me we would be left alone. 

I am happy to report that as usual, he was 100% right.

Here’s how improved the new setup is – we not only didn’t have to move one of the barriers out of the way to get The Bus onto Chiefs Way?

The side entrance to Lot G was unlocked!  We didn’t even have to move a cone and turn around!

We were set up and going by 6:45 yesterday morning.  And for the record, Lot G was filled in, front to where we tailgate at the back, by 8:50am.  Arrowhead Nation showed up en masse and in force for yesterday’s opener, and why wouldn’t we?  A perfect 80ish sunny day, not a cloud in the sky.

Exactly like Tuesday, September 11, 2001 was.

So, if I’m going to rip the Chiefs a new one for everything they do wrong (and don’t worry, we’ll get to a gigantic gaffe so impressive and indefensible, even Joe Biden * would be embarrassed), allow me to sing their praises when they nail it.

Job well done Chiefs.  You have fixed the parking disaster Steve Schneider unleashed on us fifteen years ago, and that you and the fine folks at the Jackson County Sports Authority have made worse every year since.  You have finally come up with a sane, competent layout that works well.  At least as far as my tailgating group is concerned.

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

(*: I have been saying since last summer that Joseph Robinette Biden will be the forty fifth President of the United States.  Sunday, if anything, has definitely put that prediction well in play yet again.  Also, Stevo’s Site Numero Dos (and it’s writer) sends well wishes for a quick and speedy recovery to Secretary Clinton.  In the interest of full disclosure, Stevo’s Site Numero Dos – and Stevo – have strongly endorsed Secretary Clinton to be the next President of the United States.  But in the interest of fairness, even if “House of Wings” was ill, I’d at least send well wishes and positive thoughts.  Seems the morally right thing to do, irregardless of which side you support.)

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

The first Brian Griffin Memorial “What the Hell?!?!?!” moment of the season: about 7am, we get the beer pong table out.

Me and Anthony versus Jaimmie and Miranda.

We put the Bud Light in our cups.  (And no, just because it’s in a Chiefs can, does not mean Bud Light is drinkable, likable, refreshing, and / or anything other than the worst beer ever made that doesn’t rhyme with “Mamm’s”.)

The girls put … water.  (brian griffin voice) What the hell?!?!?!  Their rationale: “we don’t really drink beer”.

Well fine then – give me what I’ve asked for, for (hang on, carry the nine) ten years now.  Let’s do vodka tonic pong!  Sh*t, let’s do mimosa pong!  I was slamming those bad boys yesterday ** for God’s sake!

Nope.  We had to slam the Bud Lights – win or lose; they got water.

Anthony and I won all three games against them.

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

(**: should have opened with this: Russ and I made a liquor run to the HyVee on 350 on Saturday night.  I was told to “buy OJ and cheap champagne!”  (Hey, it is my one duty for tailgating, save for the music.  And yeah, we’ll get to that next.)

But anyway, after grabbing what counts (the whiskey), I head for the champagne section, and find something I have never seen before: 1.75ml bottles of champagne!

The cost?  $8.99 / apiece.

Given that OJ was on sale for $.88 / small bottle (is it a half gallon?  I never check.  I just know it wasn’t the gallon size), I made it out with essentially five bottles of cheap champagne, four thingies of OJ, and I barely pulled out two twenty's, to pay with.

That’s so indefensibly awesome, I honestly said “that’s shawsome!”, walking out the door, to describe that liquor purchasing experience.)

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

So let’s address the Captain Oats in the room: the new speaker setup.

Because frankly, I owe each and every person there on Sunday, not just a personal, face-to-face, “dude I f*cked up, and I’m sorry” apology, but a public one as well.

Readers?  I f*cked up.  Royally.  And I cannot possibly apologize enough.

Because the one thing I didn’t test?

Was how loud the new speaker setup would be … with about twenty other speakers in range, of said speaker setup.

This change, quite frankly, was a screw up the likes of which the United States – if not the entire world – has not seen, since New Coke thirty years ago.

So just like Coke executives choked down the debacle and brought back the Classic formula?

I’m choking down the sound debacle, and bringing back the Classic (speakers).

Major thanks to my buddy “derek carr’s doppleganger”, for saving my ass with his portable Bose speaker.  It made the music almost listenable.

I truly, humbly, and profoundly apologize, for thinking I could improve, on what wasn’t broken.

And you have my promise: I will spend whatever it costs, to find a f*cking FM adaptor, and bring Classic (speakers) back, for the Jets game, and every game thereafter.

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

Third funniest moment of the day – and remember folks: if you cannot laugh at yourself?  You have to brace for everyone else, laughing at you … because they’re going to anyway.

(And I should note up front: that this is only the third funniest moment of the GameDay experience?  Especially when you read numero dos below?  Is truly frightening.)

Recall the home opener against “those people” last year, there was a blonde chick who approached me, saw me opening a bottle of champagne, asked if she could have a glass, and given how freaking hot she was, I immediately ran onto The Bus, grabbed a cup, and poured her one?  And recall how she promised to return later in the season?  And recall how she noted “you’re so cute”?

Well, she returned on Sunday.  It turns out, her name is Lacey.  (Because of course smoking hot blonde girls are named Lacey.  (phil voice) Damned right they are Stevo!) 

She once again approached as I was cracking open one of those ridiculous sized bottles of champagne I purchased Saturday evening.  And the following ensued:

(lacey) Hi!  You’re Steve, right?
(stevo) Yeah.  (A rare moment of sanity – I know my name!)  Hey, I remember you!
(lacey) Yeah!  Funny we meet again in the exact same situation!
(stevo) Yeah, it is!  Coincidence, huh!
(stevo) (thinking privately “f*ck no it’s not”)
(lacey) Will you pour me a glass?
(stevo) Sure!
(stevo) (pours glass)
(lacey) Thanks!  (Obvious flirting move)  You’re still cute!  And you’re still nice! 
(stevo) (awkward) Thanks, but … I’m … kind of taken by a great girl I met this summer?
(lacey) (actually sounding legitimately … something) Really?  You’re taken by a girl? 
(stevo) Yeah, a really cool chick.  I even call her The Chica!  (Pause.)  Why?
(lacey) (yelling to her friend about ten feet away) You were right!
(stevo) (confused) Right about what?
(lacey) Oh, I thought you were gay.  (Her friend) thought you were straight.
(stevo) (speechless)
(stevo) (recovers) Well, did you at least wager on (my being gay or straight)?

There’s funny.  There’s damned funny.  And then there’s the “Stevo having the Seinfeld Memorial “not that there’s anything wrong with that” Misunderstanding Moment hysterical.

(She’ll be back for the raiders and “those people” games, at least.  This ought to be entertaining, at least, if not awesome.  Or shawsome.  (Pause).  Sh*t, five pages in Word in, and I’ve dropped shawsome twice!)

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The menu was red-wine soaked Charger chicken, burnt ends from Gates, stuffed mushrooms left over from the pre-party the night before, a boatload of beer, a crapload of champagne, a healthy helping of vodka, and a lil’ thing I like to call the piece de resistance: jalapeno poppers.

I hope you enjoyed them.  I not only picked each and every one of those bastardos, and I not only sliced, diced, and cleaned each and every one of those bastardos (and there were over 150 of them), but I stuffed each and every one of those bastardos.  (Except for the 12-15 that were made OT Style; I had nothing to do with the creation of those.  That was all Nicole’s handiwork from two weeks ago.)

And it was in making those that the funniest moment of the weekend occurred, because like a blithering idiot, once I was done slicing, dicing, stuffing and mounting all those jalapenos, the frosty cold Coors Lights I was consuming during the process caught up to me.  So I went to use the facilities.

Before washing my hands.

Sweet merciful Lord Jesus.  So for all you kids out there, let Uncle Stevo teach you a valuable lesson.  Do not – I repeat, do NOT – hold anything in your crotchal region if you’ve just sliced up a ton of jalapenos.  Because your crotchal region will burn like a mo’ fo’ for at least the next six hours.

Needless to say, a lot of laughs were had at my expense.  And the best part?  My “secret ingredient” in the filling I make?

Crab meat.

(Cue the STD jokes in four, three …)

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I really liked the folks from St. Louis who parked and tailgated next to us.  Nice people.  A dad, an uncle, and two what I thought were college aged kids.  Wound up throwing a few games of cornhole with them, before the two younger ones challenged us to beer pong.  Never one to back down from a challenge, I headed over to the table, started filling the cups, and the dad comes over and, well, this occurred:

(the dad) You do realize (my kid) is 16, right?
(stevo) (in genuine stunned disbelief) Really?  He looks like he’s 20!
(the dad) Nope, 16.
(stevo) (pauses) It’s still OK if he plays, right?
(the dad) Sure, why not.  Just be careful with him.  He’s new at (drinking).

I’ll let you people judge, who was the worser influence.

Oh, and don’t worry – The Kid isn’t finished appearing in this recap yet.

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And after reading the post in its finalized version, I realized the funniest moment of the weekend, which involved The Kid, wasn't included ... because the ending of this post was too f*cking personal.

I emerged from "The Ending", goofy grinned faced, smiling like a kid who just got laid for the first time, and headed to The Bus.  I proudly shouted "I only want two things right now", which has always meant (a) "Dancing on the Ceiling" to be played, and (b) a cold beer in my hand.

The Kid?

Handed me a beer, then asked "hey, you smoke?", as he showed me a dugout.

Folks?  I'm done.

How the hell do we draft a sixteen year old to tailgate with us all year?  Because I want this kid back, stat!

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The rest of the tailgate was pretty laid back.  Food was consumed.  Adult beverages were ponged, chugged, and yes, Drinko made its 2016 debut.  I dropped into Bud Light.  I think I now have yet another, in this year of never’s:

#nevertrump
#neverdenver
#NEVERbudlight

God that crap is, uuh, God awful.

All told, we had about 25 people flow through at one point or another, including the McFadden’s folks, who once again gave us a $200 gift card to use for a road game at their fine establishment.  I’m voting Steelers … but I’m betting Panthers.  As always, stay tuned.

We broke down a little bit after 11, after having the celebratory toast to the season to come.  Had a fun conversation with the ‘Bulance folks (Phil and his crew) headed in, and another celebratory toast to the season to come.  The lines to enter the HyVee Gate were, if anything, less slow than I expected.  The lines to purchase a beer once you got inside were, if anything, indefensible.

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I did not notice the block letter “c” “h” “i” “e” “f” “s” in the east end zone for the pregame.  If they were there, then I totally either missed them, or arrived too late to see them.  I know for sure there were no balloons launched, and that infuriates me.  I can live with tradition being defecated on.  I mean, I look at seats where the legendary Tony DiPardo and the TD Pack Band played for decades, and write it off to “progress”.  I have to listen to whatever the hell The Rumble is disrupt tailgate after tailgate with their pointless and dumb ass drumming, and I write it off to (joe pesci voice) courting the utes amongst us.  I even accept that a Season Ticket Member sticker is not available this year because “the demand wasn’t there”, per my STM representative.  (The hell it wasn’t, Zach.  The hell it wasn’t.)

But once you screw with the balloon launch out of the little kid alphabet blocks, you cross a line, Chiefs.  I mean, Indy may not be able to offer “our good friend, Mr. Jim Nabors!” anymore, but not even Tony George is stupid enough to f*ck with launching more balloons than the Confederates launched cannons at Fort Sumter, when “I dream about the moonlight on the Wabash” hits the PA at about 10:52am on RaceDay morning.  That’d be as stupid as speaking through “Taps”.  Not even Colin Kaepernick would be that stupid.  (I think.)

I hated not seeing the balloon launch … and there’s no way it happened.  There was no wind whatsoever out there on Sunday; they would have hovered over the stadium, like the fireworks and smoke from the smoke thingies at the players entrance did.  Plus I was in my seat at 11:45ish.  The balloons would have launched about 11:50, 11:51, to keep the traditional schedule intact. 

Let’s hope the Chiefs are saving the balloon launch for the Jets game.  Or the raiders “Color Rush” game.  Or the game against “those people” on Christmas Night.  But please, Chiefs – give us a balloon launch.

Even the Royals stole how epic that thing is, to open their season, five months ago.

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“This is the worst first quarter I’ve ever seen” – Anthony, in a text to me and Jaimmie, 12:42pm.
“Shittacular” – me, to Anthony and Jaimmie, in response to that text.
“I love that word!” – Jaimmie, in response to my response.
“I hate that word perfectly sums the last hour up” – Anthony, in response to that response.

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So apparently, the computer system inside Arrowhead died at some point in the first quarter on Sunday.

I know, because after the Chargers punched their second score in to go up 14-3, I headed to my Chiefs Bar, to get a Coors Light.  Five possible checkout lines.  Only two were open.  And the guy in my line, kept heading over to the other register, to pay the tabs run up in his.

If you wanted to pay by anything but cash and/or sexual favors, you were screwed.  (And if you wanted to pay by sexual favors, you were screwed too (rimshot!))

I opened the game sitting in the seat I pay for, 339 / 11 / 1.  I actually don’t mind it; it’s pretty much right as you emerge from the tunnel, right above where I used to sit (and still do for most of the game, most of the games, 132 / 26 / 14.  This will factor into the finale, I swear.)  There’s a bathroom next to the tunnel, and a Chiefs Bar between the tunnels leading to 339 and 340.  It’s a perfect spot, right as you exit the spiral ramp up.

The Chiefs Bar didn’t have a working computer.  And neither did either food stand on the opposite side of the concourse.

I mean, are you kidding me? 

Or as Phil (the ‘Bulance guy, who sits two rows in front of my actual seat, and was in line with me) noted: “Hey!  How about you quit p*ssing away your money on parking sh*t, and fix your godd*mned computers!  How’s that for an idea, huh?”

I’d have worked a f-bomb in there … but that about summed up my thoughts.

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“Please fix the score of your game!!  WTF is going on down there!??  I got $$$ on you guys!!  Still early I know!!” – Rudy, 1:14pm, to me via text message.

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During the twenty five minutes I was in line to pay $9.25 for a beer that was barely cold? the Chargers scored again, to make it 21-3.

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“Person in your seat just left, said “f*ck this sh*t”!  Come down and be miserable with us!” – Mona, 1:26pm, to me via text message.

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So, I did what any good son would do – I headed down.  Go figure – the computer glitches in the upper deck?  Didn’t exist in the lower.  I purchased the second frosty cold Coors Light of the game and … you know what, God bless.  If I praise parking, then I gotta praise this too.

Thank you Chiefs, for offering something OTHER than Bud Light, or Stella Artois, or Miller Lite, or Heineken, in your Chiefs Bar’s this year.  THANK YOU!  Bud Light gives me the worst heartburn imaginable.  Stella Artois is the sh*ttiest beer this side of Hamm’s.  Miller Lite is worse than Keystone, and I wouldn’t pay $12.50 for a Heineken if it was the last beer on earth.  (OK, fine, that’s a lie – I would pay that price … if it was the last beer on earth.)  If you aren’t gonna offer the only beer in this life I truly love (Shiner Bock), then I can settle for the one beer in this life, that is a mass-produced domestic that doesn’t make me want to jump off a cliff: Coors Light.  Thank you, for adding those 16oz slop water cans of craptacular occasional enjoyment.

I got to my old seat exactly after Jeremy Maclin was stripped by a Chargers defensive back.  1:47pm CT, Sunday, September 11, 2016.

It led to a Chargers field goal, to extend the margin to 24-3, Chargers.  The Kansas City Chiefs, in over 900 games staged in franchise history, had never – not even once – in a game that counts (meaning non-preseason), had NEVER rallied from a three touchdown deficit. 

The only way the Chiefs were going to win that game, is to do something no Chiefs team, on any given Sunday, Monday, Saturday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, or Wednesday, had ever done before.

Cue “The Text That Set Off The Comeback”.

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

I wish I was smart enough to know how to capture a screen shot of a text message.  Then again, I also wish I was wealthy enough to do whatever I want to do without working for it, so I guess I can wish in one hand and sh*t in the other, and you all can wager on which hand fills up first.

There was a suggestion made, after the Chargers field goal to extend the lead to 21, that it was time to leave, as at least 1/3 of the fans there on Sunday had already done.

Me?

I’ve been there, done that, watching an insurmountable lead in person.

Which is when I realized, I’d neglected the coozie, and the binoculars.

I did not stage this … and I defy you to believe in coincidence, after seeing this:


 (image credit: me via my iPhone 6.)

13 was disgusted, repulsed, absolutely offended at the notion of leaving this game early.  (Yeah, I know -- his arms are permanently extended, but work with it.  And if you doubt that's 13?  Look at his left sleeve.  That's dirt so bleeping earned, even Florida Georgia Line would have to respect it.)

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"13 still has faith.  #rallytime". -- me, 1:48pm, across at least four different text messages, with the picture above attached.

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Exactly two hours later, Alex Smith plunged into the end zone, in the corner I was sitting in, to deliver the greatest comeback in Chiefs franchise history to the record books.

Far better people than me have recapped the comeback.  I'll leave it to them to express their feelings over it, if only because I'm still trying to process mine.  The Chiefs took over possession of the ball with 11:08 to play trailing by seventeen points, 27-10.

They were tied barely ten minutes later, having never allowed a first down the rest of the way.

Every complaint about last year's playoff loss at New England?  Was answered with a "how you like them apples" response!  (Damned right that was chosen on purpose.)

The Chiefs take too long to score down multiple scores?  A barely two minute touchdown drive, to pull within ten.

The Chiefs don't understand game situation?  Settling for the field goal, to pull within seven.

The Chiefs cannot manage a two minute drill?  Not even ONE minute, possession of ball to end zone, to tie the game.

Andy Reid can't manage the clock?  A PERFECT handling of the clock entering the two minute warning (saving the last timeout, rather than burning it with 2:08 to play, to save eight seconds, because the timeout is more valuable than the eight seconds in that spot).

And the biggest complaint?

Was answered in overtime.

After this exchange occurred ...

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“Oh Jesus!” – me, 3:10pm, via text message to The Chica.
“Sweet Jesus!!!!!!!” – me, 3:12pm, via text message to The Chica.
“What?” – The Chica, in response to me.
“Cheifs!” – me, 3:13pm, in response to The Chica. 
“That’s still on?  I turned that off at the half” – The Chica, in response.
“Turn it back on!  Now!” – me, channeling my inner late, great Randall Carlyle Wakefield, in response.

And after a minute or so’s pause …

“Holy sh*t!  How did this happen?” – The Chica, 3:16pm, via text message.

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Alex Smith had never led a game winning touchdown drive as a Chiefs quarterback prior to Sunday.

He has now.

That entire fourth quarter rally, damned near most of the overtime, I kept pounding Seats 11, 12, and 13 in front of me.  

It's why I stuck around until nobody else who mattered to me or that I knew, was left standing in 132?  
To say what I said out loud, before I left the stadium.

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"I've been pounding this bastardo today" -- me, 3:13pm, to Chris, via text message.
"Hey!  That's my seat!" -- Chris, in response.

(image credit: me, via my iPhone 6.)

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I noted in the Texans playoff game recap, that 13 was an omen.

I first starting sitting in Section 132, when my seat number was 2.  The year was 2001.  I'd been moved back to Kansas City for pushing two years at that point, and up until that point, I'd been sitting with my buddy Jasson in 109 for the previous two years.  Then he met his significant other, who I got kicked to the curb for.  (Justifiably ... and dude, thanks for the advice and response, to the email I sent ya last week regarding The Chica.  I haven't replied yet ... but yours was the response, I most wanted to hear.)

I wound up in 132, next to Jasson's stepmom and dad, the late, great Randall Carlyle Wakefield, and the two folks who my parents would happily let adopt me if they simply asked, my Second Parents, Russ and Mona.  

I also wound up next to two other people who wound up adopting me in their own way (note: what is it about me that makes me so likable?  I haven't figured it out yet.  Please, feel free to express why I'm (barack obama to hillary voice) likable enough, in the comments, because I'll be damned if I get why I am.)

Those two people, are Chris and Greg.

(Note: if I can find the group picture from their wedding, Bye Week 2006, I'll post it here.  I have it on this laptop somewhere ...)

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(OK, what stuns you more -- the binoculars are back on ... or the t-shirt never came off?  I lean t-shirt ... but I'm bribable.)

(image credit: me, via my iPhone 6.)

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When I first starting sitting in 132, Greg and Chris were in 131.  The dividing line used to be between us.  Greg, Chris, Russ, and Mona were in 131; Randy, Nancy, and I were in 132.  Their seats used to be 25 and 26 in rows (again -- you believe in coincidence?  Because I don't) 25 and 26 ... and our were 1 (Randy) and 1 and 2 (Nancy and I).  I've detailed before the "last game of Chiefs games as they were"; I don't desire to turn this into a cry-cession that requires boxes of Kleenex.

Russ spent the fourth quarter and overtime pounding Seat 11, Section 132: Greg's former seat.  (Greg sadly passed away in October 2011, and God bless, do I miss him.)

Mona spent the fourth quarter and overtime pounding Seat 12, Section 132; Chris' former seat.  (And trust me girl -- you can sneak back in, when you return for the December games.)

I have to admit, I lied in my text to Chris -- yeah, I hit Seat 12 a bit ... but I was POUNDING Seat 13, Section 132.

Randy's old seat.

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13 is an omen.

And I think it's a good one, Chiefs fans.

Because if you've ever seen "The West Wing" -- and if you haven't, you should -- one of my favorite episodes is from the last season, "Election Day".  You can pick which part you like better, uno or dos, but the end to Part Dos just does it for me:


(sk: I f*cked up the link.  Just hit the 36:00 mark, you'll get the point, when it pulls up.  God bless it, I can graduate from college in 3 1/2 years, and I cannot figure out a YouTube! embed link.)

Josh, overwhelmed by grief of what is gone, what is lost forever ... yet also overwhelmed by the possibilities to come, simply says the only two words that come to mind.

"Thanks, boss".

Which is why I said two words, leaving that stadium Sunday, I will never apologize for saying.

"Thanks, friends."

And then, I slapped Seat 11 (Formerly 25).  I really slapped Seat 12 (Formerly 26).

And I stopped ... 

... and cried, hugging Seat 13 (Former 26 1), for a solid minute.

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Yeah, I cried on Sunday.  I know I got mocked for it on Facebook; I honestly don't care.

Because God help you, if you didn't cry, as a Chiefs fan, over what Sunday was.

The first step, in a long slow march, to something few if any people reading this, have ever witnessed before.

Greatness, out of the Red and Gold ...

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 / ...