If you find yourself confronted with an NFL postseason without a rooting interest and unmoved by Don Cheadle soliloquies, you must draw from the well of that most powerful of human emotions. Ok, well, lust probably won’t do here. But the second most powerful, hate, will serve as a fine proxy. This is one in a series of posts filled with bile, spleen, vitriol and all-around nastiness toward all the teams involved with the sordid roundelay we know as the NFL Playoffs.
This was supposed to be the year.
This was supposed to be the year where the Bengals organization finally collapsed in on itself. It was supposed to be the year where things got so bad in Cincinnati that players would leave in exodus and the league removed Mike Brown from his lofty wicker perch overlooking the economic wasteland that is the Queen City.
Instead, that bastard Brown and his penny-pinching ways have been rewarded with a playoff berth, a home game, and validation that being a tightwad piece of shit owner is a suitable way of running an NFL franchise. Such an organization is already teeming with enough revenue to be a guaranteed cash machine. Couple that with the fact that Brown’s Bengals play in a ten-year-old stadium without paying any rent, and it’s a wonder that change doesn’t fly out Brown’s ass every time he cuts a fart.
How the hell am I supposed to enjoy this? After watching mediocrity (or downright ineptitude) for the better part of 20 years, I’m numb. Totally numb. It’ll be nice to have a team to root for this winter, but I’d much rather have a team–an actual, competitive team– that I can root for every fall.
And if you wanted more fuel for the hate fire, there’s this:
Carson Palmer has perfected the backhanded handoff. He probably puts his toilet paper on the roll the wrong way and masturbates overhanded as well.
Chad Ocho Cinco is the Adam Lambert of the NFL. I wonder if he’ll have to be airlifted off Revis Island again.
Chris Henry couldn’t even stay alive for an entire season. WHAT KIND OF EXAMPLE DOES YOU DEATH SET FOR YOUNG PEOPLE!?
The Bengals stole their colors from the Browns. Then again, anything not bolted down in Cleveland typically gets ripped off.
The helmets are awesome. Sorry, but if you don’t like the Bengals’ helmets, YOU ARE GAY. That’s fact.
Laveranues Coles can’t seem to catch anything that isn’t affixed to his uncle’s body. And he should take a cue from Chad and change his first name so that it includes the word “anus.”
Domata Peko…WHAT’S UP WITH THE SPLIT ENDS, HOLMES?
Marvin Lewis…NOT REALLY BLACK! AS FAR AS YOU KNOW!
Mike Zimmer is already packing his bags for DC. Save some vanilla ice cream for us, Mikey!
Cincinnati sucks. Just because they don’t suck this year doesn’t mean that they don’t suck at large in general all the other times. Stop pretending to be competent, Cincinnati. You’re just making this harder.