This past week has been a bittersweet journey for me. Let’s start with the bitter. As if I need further proof that there isn’t a God, it appears as if I have torn my left ACL. If God were real he would never put such a kind, gentle, handsome, loving soul through a second ACL tear in three years. With all the good that is going on in this world it is just impossible to fathom that God would pick on me when he is shedding such light on the rest of his clan. It just doesn’t add up. There are children everywhere being fed to their weakening hearts content and here I am with two bad knees at the age of 29. All I wanted to do was play some good old beach volleyball in Mexico at an all-inclusive resort but even that was taken away from me. What do I have left? God, if you are up there, which you aren’t, could you please start picking on other people. They can spare some of their good fortune for Christ sakes.
The bitterness continued as my car broke down while I was driving home from the doctor’s office after being diagnosed with the ACL tear. I luckily was able to pull into a parking lot and glide the car into a parking spot. I then walked 2.5 miles home with a torn ACL. If that isn’t worth of an ESPY award for, “gutsiest performance in wake of tragedy,” I don’t know what is. Chapecoense, you have some serious competition this year.
The bitter part of my week didn’t end there. When Joe Flacco hit Mike Wallace for 67 yards in the second quarter setting up the Ravens first touchdown of the day, my mother couldn’t hold back her excitement. She stood up and turned around to a Lions fan that was seated two rows behind us, took off her shirt, bearing her breasts and yelled, ” Bet they don’t make them like this in Detroit.” I knew after she bonged her third beer at the tailgate and the clock read 8:45 am, it was going to be a wild day but I didn’t know she’d take it this far. She was promptly escorted out by security and taken to the city jail, which she is no stranger to. When I was young, Mom went to, “camp,” a lot, so much so that I got very jealous. I’ve never been to Detroit so I have no idea if her claim is true but if Detroit is nicknamed, ” The Motor City,” section 542 will now be forever known as ” Motor-boat city.” Bills’ Mafia beware. There might be a new sheriff in town.
Ok, on second thought maybe that wasn’t such a bitter moment after all. I’m not sure if pride is the right word but it’s impressive and motivating that a strong woman, in this political climate, could claim to have better breasts than all of Detroit and do all she could to prove it. Bittersweet, I guess.
Ok, enough complaining; let’s get to the sweet part of the week… the reason section 542 got quite the show. The Ravens played their most complete game in a long time. The offense was watchable and at times exciting. A two play, 68-yard touchdown drive? Who would have thought that was possible from this offense? Joe had his best game of the year throwing for 269 and two TD’s and Alex Collins continued his rise from, “Who the hell are you?” to ” Dang big dog, you got the skills to get trill and pay the bills. What are you having for supper? I hope it’s something meaty because I’m hungry and I want to be like you.” Terrell Suggs continues to be an absolute beast at age 35, having one of his best years as a pro. Dude has 10.5 sacks and four forced fumbles so far this season. That’s Clorox clean.
The whole Jimmy Smith thing is a huge bummer. I guess the good news is that he can serve his four game suspension during games he wouldn’t have been able to play. The bad news is he won’t be able to walk for a while and the Ravens’ are down one of their best players for the rest of the year. I would have to imagine he was completely unaware of what was entering his body and would never, under any circumstance, intentionally try to gain an unfair advantage. He probably had a cold and ordered chicken noodle soup that contained steroids given to animals to make them chunky and tasty. He should have gone to Chipotle because they get their meat from places that would never engage in such practices. They fill their chickens with X-lax. Or maybe Jimmy just had trouble concentrating like Chris Davis, and because he wasn’t taking his Adderall and couldn’t concentrate, he forgot to apply for the exemption and then started taking his Adderall again without realizing that he forgot to apply and got popped. Who knows? I just know it’s going to be even harder to contain Antonio Brown on Sunday night without Jimmy.
As my previous blog post explained, I have never picked against the Ravens and I’m sure as hell not going to start this week. I think the Ravens go into Pittsburgh and win going away 27-17. ” They don’t make them like this in Pittsburgh.” I have no nerdy statistical or film related reasons to back this up. It’s all about gut feeling, baby. I don’t see any reason why the Ravens can’t win out, run the table in the playoffs and go 16-0 next year. Ride the wave while it’s hot. Jump on the bird while it’s flying. Feed the cattle when they are drunk. Climb the tree while it has leaves. Kiss the woman while she loves you. Kiss the man while he loves you. Drink the top shelf stuff if you can reach it. And, most of all, play volleyball while you have your knees.
The sweetest part of the week was, without question, the return of Tiger Woods. He’s back, baby! I watched all four rounds he played last weekend and the man looked strong again. He looked as though he had totally forgotten falling asleep at the wheel earlier this year. His driver was on the money time after time. His swing looked fluid and lacked any type of hesitation. He made some putts, had a few fist pumps, and, most importantly, was wearing a smile that would make any Perkins waitress melt. There were no limps or grasping at the lower back as he keeled over. There was no stupid ass, “I’m old but still a sly dog,” goatee. When he hit a 5 wood 270 yards to the green on his second shot at a par 5, it made my blood start flowing. I got of the couch and gave an, “Oh hell yes!” to the TV, the neighborhood, the world and maybe, just maybe, the smooth Bahaman breeze blew my cry all the way to the man himself. Screw being cautiously optimistic. I’m in full blown, “Tiger Shot,” mode. Watch your back Dustin, Jordan, Justin, and Rory. Woody is coming through and you’re in the way.
Follow up – Despite my desperate plea, I have still not heard back from David Hasselhoff or his underachieving manager, Larry A. Thompson. I will continue to try my best as it is my goal to provide Jason and Jerry everything they could ever dream of. My efforts will continue to be documented. Thanks!