As you well know, it’s TO Week in Philly, as Dr. Kevorkian’s latest muse joins the Cowboys to take on the Eagles on Sunday. And while we at KSK certainly don’t endorse something as tasteless as throwing objects onto the field, we’re certainly looking forward to exactly that occurring. After all, we’re illegitimate pseudo-journalists here. And journalists root for the story, people. And I can’t think of a better story to root for than “Owens impaled by upper deck trident throw.”
Philadelphians, you have been presented with a golden opportunity to create a landmark moment in the history of sporting violence. You’ll have the chance to join Piston fans; ice-throwing Giant fans; record-burning, Hitler-emulating White Sox fans; and unimaginative bottle-throwing Browns fans in the pantheon of sports fans who disgrace their city and their team, while entertaining me and my lack of shame in the process. You possess that all-too-rare combo of stupidity and obliviousness to pull it off. Imagine how deeply Joe Buck would furrow his brow at you.
But what of your arsenal? What can you throw at TO from the stands, while drunk, that has the best chance of being A) On target, B) Somewhat clever, and C) Egregiously harmful? Well, before we consider what you can throw, let’s consider what you can’t throw, according to the banned items list at Lincoln Financial Field:
-No outside alcohol
-No animals (which is too bad, because I’d like to throw a cat on the field just as the injury cart rolls into the tunnel)
-No bags larger than 12x12x12″ (my scrotum excepted)
-No bottles and cans (and just clap your hands and just clap your hands…)
-No thermoses (Too bad, because liquid makes things heavy.)
-No food not wrapped in clear plastic (because confusing egg salad with plastique explosive is something a security guard would excel at)
-No hard-sided coolers (that means you, Igloo)
-No fireworks, firearms and weapons of any kind (But what of Brian Westbrook? What a weapon!)
-No footballs (Not even Hutches, which is too bad. When I was a kid, there were kids who could throw a Hutch so hard it gave you a fucking aneurysm. I was not one of them.)
-No laser pointers (You’ll upstage Costanza!)
-No noisemakers (And seriously, noisemakers are gay. They ruin every New Year’s party. You’re gonna sneak one into a football game? Will you also be sneaking in your Delbert McClinton record collection?)
-No signs or flags on sticks or poles (It’s the sticks and poles they probably care about the most.)
-No strollers (which means you’ll need the Baby Bjorn if you want to double-fist)
-No video cameras and video capable cell phones (They wouldn’t want you overtaking NFL Films!)
-No throwing objects (Doesn’t this constitute everything?)
-No any other item or action deemed dangerous or inappropriate (Again, this could mean anything. Particularly if the object happens to be in the hands of Jeff Speakman, the perfect fucking weapon.)
So there’s your banned items list. Now, let’s all put on both our thinking caps and our imagination caps, to concoct a list of utterly stupid things to throw at TO’s monstrous vagina:
The staple of brain-dead fans the world over, batteries are often thrown because of their size relative to their weight. A 5-year-old girl could take out a testicle with a battery, which is why so many weak-armed fans rely on them.
But what size battery do you use? Most people use AA’s, since that’s what’s in their portable radios. You could lob a D TO’s way, but what do you conceal it in? No way they let flashlights in. Do you go all “Maria Full of Grace” and smuggle it through your digestive tract? Or what if you used one of those little round dipshit batteries that come with your Snoopy Tennis Game & Watch? No dice. Know why? Because that game was like fucking crack, that’s why. Let’s forgo batteries altogether for something a bit more imaginative.
This isn’t Detroit. TO won’t just go laying on a railing right next to you. The beer will spray out of the cup long before it hits the ground. No way they’re letting you keep plastic bottle for this game. And remember, no outside alcohol permitted. That means you paid eight bucks for that piss warm Chango. At that price, I’d drink it, throw up into my cup, and then toss that. It’s heavier. A plastic lid might contain it for another split second.
This will be the chic thing for fans to throw on Sunday. My tip: fill the bottle with water when you go to take a piss (or better yet, piss into it), and then throw it. That way, you get the weight of a battery, while showing a bit more panache. Eagles fans, I cannot implore you enough: if you’re dumb enough to throw a prescription bottle onto the field, you’re also probably dumb enough to leave the label (with your contact info) on the bottle as well. For God’s sake, remove the label. Or use your father’s empty Lipitor bottle.
Most stadium food is too light (in weight, not in calories) to make for good weaponry. Maybe the soft pretzels, if they’re stale enough (And here come the pretzels!), and they always are. Otherwise, you’re in hot dog and nacho land. Maybe a tightly wrapped burger would work, but what harm would that do?
Who throws a shoe? Honestly?
DVD of 1988 Suicide Drama Permanent Record
I like the fact that it’s obscure, which will impress at least one other person in the stadium. Plus, you’d be thinking of an alternative, better use for Keanu Reeves’ movies, and that makes you innovative! And deep! From the Amazon plot synopsis:
When David Sinclair, a popular and talented high school student commits suicide, his best friend Chris takes over many of his responsibilities; from the school production of “HMS Pinafore” to caring for his family, and soon finds himself under the same pressures.
So true. So fucking true, man. Plus, a DVD box is made of hard plastic, and those corners can easily snatch an eye.
Any Nick Drake CD (in jewel case)
Drake committed suicide by overdosing on pills, which makes him a better fit than tossing a Nirvana record. Then just hop in your VW and hightail it outta there, you hip fucker you!
I suggest hurling your own waste in a paper bag, to avoid getting your hands dirty and to ensure a fecal explosion upon impact. One issue: feces contain your DNA. And, as noted above, possibly corn.
I don’t actually suggest throwing this, but I’ve never understood why fans don’t bring whistles to games. Imagine it: TO catches a pass and is running in the open field. You blow your whistle. He assumes the play was blown dead. He stops and turns around. And then he, in turn, is blown dead by an oncoming linebacker. And your work is done. Sleep easy.
Any Hemingway Novel
Our nada, who art in nada. Nada be thy name. Thy kingdom nada, thy will be nada, in nada, as it is in nada. Give us this nada our daily nada to take out TO’s front teeth, because he’s a fucking douche.
And there’s your list. But I am no master of aerodynamics, like Wormser. This list is merely the tip of the iceberg. Let fly with your suggestions in the comments.
And remember, Eagles fans, the world’s sports columnists are counting on you. They don’t think you have the class to sit politely and just cheer for your team. So give them the smug satisfaction of knowing they’re right.