Maybe you’re a Kansas City Royals fan and you have been for life.  Or for a long time.  Maybe you’ve suffered through years of ineptitude and heartache and misery and now here you are, the light at the end of the tunnel mercifully bringing dawn to your brutally long night.  You’re like the Chilean miners of baseball fans.  Buried for so long down in the depths of sporting misery that many gave up.  But you kept clawing, scratching, live-tweeting, and Billy Butler meme-ing through it all.  And now, you can taste fresh air.  You can see the sunshine of a crisp fall day breaking over Kansas City.  Over your city.  And it feels like your time.  It feels like suddenly destiny stopped hammer-fisting you in the face and is reaching down to offer you a hand off the mat.  You’re Rocky Balboa and you just landed your first triumphant body blow on Ivan Drago/Tommy Gun/Carl Weathers.

Or, if you’re like me, you just find yourself attracted to these kinds of stories that make sports so great.  So damn fun.  You find the Royals’ scrappy, never-say-die, small-ball-loving attitude as fun to watch as it is riddled with unavoidable sports clichés.

bus

If you’re like me, the Kansas City royals have done the impossible.  They’ve suddenly made you give a shit about baseball in the middle of a hyper-fascinating football season.

Instead of tossing your nose up haughtily in the air, then angling said nose directly towards your TV so you can catch some more football highlights, you’ve found yourself pushing and shoving your way onto a bandwagon that’s more crowded than an Ebola evacuation bus heading for the Liberian border.  (*Author’s note: too soon?)  You’ve watched a team with about as much power as Ted Kaczynski’s Montana mountain-shack (*Author’s note: for those keeping track, that’s Kaczynski reference #12,327) suddenly look like they’ve been ordering the Tony Bosch special, with “Extra Bosch”, at their local “anti-aging” clinic.  You’ve watched Ned Yost do some heinously Ned-Yostian things that have somehow turned out just fine, leaving you to wonder if you’re actually the idiot.

You’ve done all of this; somehow finding yourself so thoroughly engrossed in the Royal’s attempt to prove Lorde’s Beetlejuice-y ass wrong that you’ve watched the marathons of extra innings and the overabundance of weird, Vaguely British Viagra commercials and the insanity of watching important sporting events on a network that prides itself on playing re-runs of Family Guy during primetime.  Then today happened.

And you’re stuck at the office.

Now, if you’re the kind of fan this post started with, you’re undoubtedly hung over.  Or not going in to work.  Or probably both.

But if you’re like me (*Author’s note: or an actual honest-to-God contributing member to society) then you probably went in to the office anyway.  You’ll only miss a few innings, your rational, hoping-to-not-get-fired voice will whisper in your ear.  But what it I miss another Mike Moustaka-Flocka-Flame Bonnaroo crowd-surfing moment? Your sports loving side whispers.  Why not have the best of both worlds?  Why not enjoy the game as best you can at the office, then get to a car and Dick Trickle your way home.  (*Author’s note: it’s not what I look like, I swear.)

So here are 5 ways to try to enjoy the start of the Royals V.S. Orioles game while you’re stuck at the office.

1.  Get that phone battery charged up, son!

If you’re unable to access the game on the internet or if TBS’ website has been red-flagged by your work’s security settings for having the words “Big” and “Bang” used in the same sentence, then you’re probably going to have to mobile-app that piece.  So far, the 48 people that have reviewed the Watch TBS app have given it a rip-roaring 1.25 stars out of five.  So, if you’re scoring at home, that’s lower than Billy Butler’s stealing percentage.  But, in a pinch?  You can log on, cash in on your job’s free Wi-Fi — or risk instantaneously turning your data package into a pile of smoldering overages – and catch the game in all it’s small-screen glory.

Embedded image permalink

No cellphones allowed at your desk?  What kind of middle-school fiefdom are you selling your soul to?  Make a break for the bathroom and find yourself a stall far enough away from the others that no one will call the cops when they hear you cheering wildly while you’re sitting on the john.  (*Author’s note: to avoid arousing suspicion, I recommend only shouting ambiguous, potentially-bathroom related things while crapper-watching the game.  Ex: “Take two!”  “He’s out!”)

2.  Pull up the game on TBS’ live streaming website

Feeling bold?  Have really disgusting company bathrooms?  Then you can always catch the game on your computer.  Make sure you have that trusty parachute page ready to go, though.  Is this the 2nd quarter of the year?  I don’t know.  There’s a chance your boss doesn’t either.  So open up a few tabs in your browser with things like “Earnings report” and “expense reports” for a quick, panicked, mouse click.

Baseball graph

Here’s another parachute page I created so I could immediately bail out if I hear the footfalls of a superior heading my way down the cubicle-runway. Feel free to use at your leisure.

3.  Listen in on streaming radio

Slide your ear bud up through your shirt, lean down in your office chair like you’re a G getting ready for drive-by mode and let Denny Matthews’ buttery, dulcet tones massage your timpanic membrane.  If your boss or any other coworker walk by, make sure you’re staring intently at the computer monitor so when you completely ignore them the first 12 times they say your name you can just point to the screen, shrug your shoulders, and say “look, don’t you find spreadsheet analysis engrossing?”

Spread

4.  Make sure you’ve got a good backstory for your erratic behavior

If you’re going to leap onto your posturepedic office chair and shout, “Moooooooooose!” You’d better make sure you’ve already talked loudly to multiple coworkers about how you’re calling a client in Saskatchewan today to go over their home-owners insurance involving wild animals.

Planning on dropping to your knees and screaming “Crrrrrash!” With unparalleled fury and angst if Chris Davis gets a clutch hit for the Orioles?  You’d better have already just happened to print off some stuff right by your boss discussing the airbag ratings on the new 2015 Chrylser Sebrings.

You may even want to leave on your headset or keep the phone up to your ear and refer to all the players as “Mr.” As in, “Mr. Gordon we could really use your expertise when we’re talking about leveraging our Louisville accounts to create a big swing in the numbers.”

5.  When all else fails, try to get sent home for the day

Wander past your boss’s desk coughing.  Splash some water on your face so you look like you’ve broken out into a sweat.  Make a quick dash for the bathroom and leave your computer unlocked and have a gigantic, zoomed in Google search left up on your computer that says this:

eb

Good luck.  God speed.  And go Royals.

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(*Author’s note: Listen, what else are we supposed to do on a bye week?  Try to compose a rap song about DeMornay Pierson-El?  Oh, believe me: I’ve done that too.

Sung to the tune of Ride Wit Me, by Nelly:

If your thinking about puntin’, ‘cause it’s 4th and three,
You better look downfield and tell me who you see?
Oh, why would you punt his way? Hey!  Must be DeMornay!)

If it’s too far for you to go for three,
And you’re higher than Khalifa on four twenty:
Oh, why would you punt his way? Hey!  Must be DeMornay!)

But enough of that.  It’s getting close to Halloween.  That means that my obsession with horror movies and candy corn are going to ramp up to dangerous levels for the next few weeks as we prepare for one of my favorite times of year.  Since all I’ll be watching from now until October 31st is football and horror movies, I thought, why not combine my insane love of the two?  So, here are some Husker players and coaches who I have crappily crafted into some classic movie posters.


Froday the 13th, Part LXXX

Bell


Hocus BoCuss

BoCuss


Pierson El-Raiser

PIerson


The Becksorcist

Becksorcist


Randyman

Randyman

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It’s a night game.  It’s an away game (*Author’s note: that matters, anyway).  You know what that means, Husker fans.  It’s time for the Huskers V.S. Michigan State Drinking Game!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Take One Drink

– If Jordan Westerkamp makes a Ringling Bros catch that makes Nick Wallenda look like a mundane, semi-pro, street juggler.

Photo Courtesy of: Fox Sports

– If Tommy Armstrong runs such a sneakily perfect read option that the camera man, the Michigan State defense, and everyone in the stands watches Ameer Abdullah run one direction while Tommy undercovers his way for a first down on the low-low.
— If anyone you’re watching the game with demands we work in more Cethan Carter.
— *JAKE COTTON GETTING AN INEXPLICABLE PENALTY ALERT!*
— You hear or see any #FearAmeer references (*Author’s note: I hope you’ve got a DD)
— Kenny Bell’s afro is unleashed from his helmet and is so large that it briefly appears to create a lunar eclipse.
— If there’s a Husker touchdown that gives you an absurdly manic high

Kenny
— If there’s a Husker turnover that makes you feel like you just snorted Drain-o.
— One of Michigan State’s offensive lineman goes low for Randy Gregory’s knees and you nearly choke on your beer with unparalleled rage.
— Any time the enormity of the game appears so big that you desperately wish you were in the stands to watch the Huskers play.
— When you realize that it’s 40 Degrees, rainy, and that the wind is gusting at such a feverish pitch that not even Eskimos would venture from their Igloo to catch this game live.  (*Author’s note: yes, we are all soft in 2014.  Suck it.)
— *HORROR MOVIE ADVERTISEMENT PROVING THAT CREATIVITY IS DEAD ALERT!*

Take 2 Drinks
— *MEL KIPER’S BIG BOARD FEATURING RANDY GREGORY IN THE TOP 5 ALERT*
— If you look at the TV and realize that Nebraska’s defense is in the “dollar” formation and that we’ve eschewed linebackers for a lineup of all DBs and defensive linemen.

$
**Bonus Drink: If you witness Papuchis signaling in the play using the Johnny Manziel money sign language**
— If they show the Nebraska Marching Band spelling out “Fear Ameer”
— Anytime they show that one d-bag in the crowd who immediately begins wearing costumes to every football game the moment the clock strikes midnight on the month of October.
— *OBLIGATORY FOOTAGE OF NEBRASKA CRAPPING 5 TURNOVERS DOWN THEIR LEG AT HOME AGAINST MICHIGAN STATE IN 2013 ALERT*
— Anytime anyone makes a shitty Pierson-El pun.  (*Author’s note: if you’re anywhere near me during the game, you’d better call a cab home.)
— Every time ABC comes back to the game you find yourself wondering why ESPN took College Gameday to Ole Miss to witness a Little Bighorn-style massacre instead of coming out to watch a fascinating, highly important matchup of the Big Ten’s only two playoff contenders.
— If you find yourself immediately filled with venomous rage as you imagine all those Southern Dandies at the grove trolling around in their white boat shoes – even though the only boat they’ve ever been on in a booze cruise that their frat paid for – and their plaid bow-ties that would make Archbishop Don the Magic Juan cringe.

Photo courtesy of: kentuckysportsradio.com

Take 3 Drinks
— Anytime ABC shows Ameer Abdullah stats showing his historic ranking within the Husker program
— Everytime ABC Shows Ameer Abdullah’s stats compared with other running backs in the country
— Hell, Anytime Ameer Abdullah is awarded the Heisman trophy at halftime like he frickin’ deserves.
— Drew Brown crushes a deep kick despite being so scrawny that he has a bigger thigh gap than a photoshopped tween with self-image issues.

Photo Courtesy of: Omaha.com

(*Author’s note: why haven’t we started calling Drew Brown “Bundini Brown” yet? As in, greatest hype-man in boxing history and Muhammad Ali’s right hand man.  I’m calling him Bundini from now on.)
— Anytime Tommy Armstrong tosses a picturesque deep ball that looks on par with anything you’d see in the NFL
— Anytime Tommy Armstrong botches an intermediate pass, shank-throwing it so poorly it looks like something you’d see in the Lingerie Football League.

Chug It. . .Chug It. . .

– When the cameras inevitably find the fat, shirtless guy who seems to always magically appear like a schlubby, chest-painted, Criss Angel mind-freak magic trick any time the weather gets crappy
*Bonus Drink: If you are the fat, schlubby, chest-painted Houdini mentioned above*
— When you get this little ditty, that I have had stuck in my head every time DeMornay Pierson-El returns a punt, so thoroughly ear-wormed into the folds of your brain that you’ll never be able to remove it: (Sung to the tune of “Ride Wit Me” by Nelly.  Back when Nelly was good at rapping.) “…Oh, why would you punt his way, hey!, must be DeMornay!
— *OH, DEAR GOD, PLEASE NOT MAGIC JOHNSON JUST GOT DISCOVERED IN THE STANDS BECAUSE NOW THEY’LL SHOW HIM MORE THAN KATHERINE WEBB AT THE 2013 TITLE GAME ALERT*

(*Author’s note: The Magic-Lupe line of demarcation is a media overexposure measuring index that allows us to measure the maximum amount of obnoxious reaction shots that a sports network will show during a specific sporting event.  Shown here are three of the hightest scores ever.  None will ever top the scores provided by any Michigan State Basketball game that is attended by Tom Izzo’s wife, Lupe, and Magic Johnson.)

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It’s been another busy week for Nebraska Cornhuskers head football coach, Bo Pelini.  He’s been prepping his team for what appears to be the biggest game of his tenure.  It’s a top ten matchup against a developing rival; a chance to slay the demons of Pelini-past and blaze a new trail towards the College Football Playoff.  It’s a prime time game.  At night.  On ABC.  All the cards are stacking up to make this a monstrous game for the program and for the coach who have each struggled recently in these scenarios.

So what does a guy like Bo do when his team is getting ready for a hyper-hyped, big time showdown?  He plans everything out.  He meticulously schedules his day down the last minute to make sure that he only includes events that will keep him sharp, keep him focused, and keep him hungry.

Utilizing a top-secret source working on the inside of One Memorial Stadium we were able to obtain a screenshot of what Bo’s schedule looks like for the Michigan State game.  And, boy, does he seem busy.

(*Author’s note: as usual, the formatting sucks. Click on the image, and all will be revealed.)

Capture

FIN

Fun runs, charity races, mud dashes, half marathons, Spartan tough ferocious slam exclamation point excruciating pain 5ks, and road races are everywhere right now.

It’s never been cooler to slap feet to pavement and selfie your way through 5,000 meters of strobe lights, barbed wire and unemployed dudes throwing handfuls of colored corn starch all over you for $5/hour.  And it feels like these kinds of runs/challenges/social-events-masked-as-physical-fitness-and-a-chance-to-wear-a-tutu are peaking right now.

That being said, I decided it was time to strike while the iron is hot.  Ladies and gentleman, may I introduce to you: the inaugural Jameis Winston 5K!


The Start of the Race

Skart

The start of the JW5K will be an exercise in pure revelry. Featuring live music by these guys:

who will be singing a live rendition of Broadway’s The Little Mermaid and only pausing in their song and dance numbers for periodic breaks in character to allow Sebastian to point at all the runners and shout, “Stop! THIEF!!” to really give them the impression that they’re getting the entirety of the Jameis Winston experience.

The special guest starter will be Florida State Ballboy and internet sensation, Red Lightning.  He will shoot a bee-bee gun into the air while mean-mugging everyone and looking a lot like a human version of Sebastian from The Little Mermaid.


800 Meters

At the 800 meter mark, runners will be greeted by a team of 30 flown-in Florida State University police officers who will wildly cheer and recklessly high-five anyone wearing a Jameis jersey while simultaneously making sure to turn a stupifyingly blind eye to any and all infractions, cheating, or criminal acts that occur during the race.

Cops


806 Meters

Approximately 6 meters later, the FSU PD will halt the race to perform a detail-oriented, thorough investigation of any and all allegations of impropriety that have been made during the first half mile of the race.


806.1 Meters

Just kidding.  The FSU PD will promptly abandon the investigation to resume their carousing and high-fiving with all Winston-wearers and they will begin resumption of their regular duties.  Chiefly: stumblefucking around and performing such poor police work that they make the officers of Brooklyn Nine Nine look like Sherlock Holmes.


1K

All runners will be treated to roughly 100 meters of full-length mirrors alongside the course.  Each runner is required to make the below-pictured face a minimum of four times during this section of the course.

w


1 Mile

At the 1 mile mark of the race, the course will wind through a make-shift cemetery where every tombstone will read: RIP, Jimbo Fisher’s Hairline.


2K

At the 2,000 meter mark, the race will enter the front doors of the area Publix store. Each contestant will be required to enter the front doors, grab a handful of delicious, juicy, tender crab meat and then haul ass out of the store. Any competitor caught paying for the meat or, indeed, exercising good judgment in any way will be subject to immediate disqualification.


3K

At the 3,000 Meter mark, competitors will be treated to yet another live musical act, this time featuring the hit band: Stan Wilcox and the Blind Eyes.  Covering hits that range from Stevie Wonder to Ray Charles this band will only do songs either by blind guys or about being blind.  Their up-tempo musicality and cunning lyricism has earned them rave reviews from Jimbo Fischer and Jimbo Fischer.

Blind


4K

With only 1,000 meters to go, the runners will have to navigate a perilous web of media attention and 800 meters of microphones without saying anything sexist, dumb, or offensive.  Good luck with that.

Mics


The Finish

Each runner will leap onto a table to cross the finish line where they will deliver Jameis’ signature line, screaming as loudly as their exhausted lungs can endure to “F- her right in the Pu**y!”

Tables

So. . .who wants to pay $50 bucks, get themselves a really sweet T-Shirt and go on a run for the ages? Let’s kickstart this bad boy and start the latest and hottest trend in fun-running.

FIN

We all know that this is a big weekend for Husker Defensive Coordinator, John Papuchis.  We know there’s a lot at stake, it’s a nationally televised game, and it’s a primetime showdown with Nebraska’s only good at-home opponent of the year.  So I figured that there was a lot of different motivational tactics likely being employed by Bo Pelini’s coaching staff.  But I didn’t see this coming.

The Hurricanes, for their part, came out firing yesterday, cranking off some digital smack-talk to Husker wide receiver, Jordan Westerkamp.  Not to be outdone, the fiery defensive coordinator from Nebraska did what most 6-figure-a-year, 36-year-old coaches would do: diss track.  That’s right.  JP threw on his parachute pants, his gold rope chain — that he keeps hidden deep in the back of his closet from his years spent breakin’ on cardboard boxes with his crew –, and grabbed the mic to spit some hot fire Miami’s way.

Through an exclusive leak in the NU athletic department, we’ve been able to obtain a digital copy of Papuchis’ Miami Diss Track.

Papuchis [x4]

My, my, my, my defense hits you so hard
Feels like a freight train “Oh my Lord”
Thank you for blessing me
With a defensive end like Gregory
When we win, you know I head downtown
A fishbowl up in Duffy’s and you cannot frown
Al Golden? He’s a douche
And all of my boys, call me: Papuch.

Papuchis [x4]

Corner Blitz, Kalu
Blowin’ up Miami, like he’s Bad Boys II
So stand, out ya seat
And get up, get down to this Hogwash beat
Watch my Blackshirts, do their crossbone dance
Makin’ Al Golden crap his nice dress pants
Like that, like that
Comin’ on a mission for a quarterback sack
Now ya know, that it’s time to punt
We’re here to light you up like a Carl Pelini blunt

Papuchis [x3]

Me and Pelini, we’re number 1
You’re only Bo once we call it YOBO, son
Offense, we wreck
We’re pullin’ down your body like a wet crewneck
We’re hyped, and tight
Smearing Dukie Johnson like a dude who didn’t wipe
Need a roof, to raise
Runnin’ through your offense like a Tolbert blaze
The Canes? I’m dissin’
‘Cause Uncle Luke’s Broke and Shapiro’s in prison

That’s word because you know…

Papuchis [x3]

Break it down!
Stop, Miami Time!

Shirts are Black, under Red
If Miami loses then their season’s dead.
So crunk those speakers up, son
Bump that Hip Hop Hogwash, sorry Ack-er-man.
This is it, for real
Stadium’s fuller than Sapp, post-meal
Tip, up your cup
Party like Kevin Olsen let’s get fucked up

Papuchis [x3]

Break it down!
Stop, Miami time!

Papuchis [x4]

Break it down!
Stop, Miami Time!

Every time you see me
Papuchis keeps it hype
I’m dope on the headset and I’m more magic than Mike.
Now why would I ever stop calling plays?
With Big 10 Competition, man, you know I’m smelling a raise!
Our defense is too nasty, from Lincoln to South Beach
It’s “JP, Go JP, Do it JP, Coach JP”
Let’s execute, Bo Preach!

Papuchis [x8]

(*Author’s note: who are the five greatest rappers of all time? Papuchis, Papuchis, Papuchis, Papuchis, and Papuchis!)

FIN

Today a letter was written into the Lincoln Journal Star by a fan who believes that the stadium’s new, much ballyhooed, stadium system is too loud.  If you’re interested in reading about it: here’s the link.  It pretty much blew up Twitter on a slow (*Author’s note: read: boring) day in a place where football is the main talking point 24/7, 365.  Needless to say, the Author took a lot of flack for his note already via social media.  It’s what we do.  It’s practically why Twitter was invented.

But while all the outrage and meme-badgering of undoubtedly the undoubtedly elderly Charley Ackerman of Milford was going on, another letter was penned by an equally mysterious writer, addressing another aspect of the Memorial Stadium Gameday experience.  Here it is, in its entirety.  Letting the guessing begins at the identity of its enigmatic author.

Presentation1

 

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