A Rolling Moss Gathers No Wins

My favorite football team continues yet another epic collapse.  This isn't the 1983 season where Les Steckel dropped a 3-13 bomb on this franchise with coaching ineptitude unseen until, well, now.  Brad Childress has shown this year that he is a staff accountant trying to do the CFO's job.  Last year was an aberration in a few plays that went their way, no injuries to the ghost of a Hall of Fame quarterback and his favorite receiver.  No quarrels with star players that will quit on 3/4th of the plays as I'll give Favre credit here as being someone who will put his best effort forward despite a coach with granite in his ears and similar legs for moving in a different direction when the first plan doesn't work.

Image from http://www.footballbabble.com/

Then you have Randy Moss.  A true Viking, another future Hall of Famer who had returned to the team after a few games to seemingly take the place of Sidney Rice (who took some horrible career advice and delayed his hip surgery enough to take him out this all-star lineup).  He caught Favre's 500th touchdown, much joy returned to Mudville as with the unseasonably warm weather up here just kept getting brighter. Since I personally was not eating with the team on Friday, to expound on the catering incident isn't right.  I wasn't there and can only read about what happened and offer editorals like Sportcenter ran off for the past 24 hours.  It could be a product of the Vikings' PR machine trying to save its battered coach's face, but now that the owner of the restaurant is being quoted:

Tinucci's co-owner Gus Tinucci said Tuesday. "(Moss) he comes in, and I'm helping one of the guys and didn't look up, and all of a sudden I heard, 'What the (expletive) is this? I wouldn't feed this (expletive expletive) to my (expletive) dog!' And he's screaming it at the top of his lungs.

It's hard to think Moss' return had anything with wanting another shot at 1998.  Can we blame the coach?  After all it is his responsiblity to manage the talent, as it's the owner's job to make that talent available. Childress didn't sell the program to Moss, or Moss is just an insufferable prima donna bitch, or both.  Either way the season that could have been, is mired right now in confusion with a future that has a "must-win" this week, and the next, and the next, and the next.  If there's a poker analogy, the Vikings are stuck five buy-ins looking to get even and just mortgaged the house to get back in the game.  Playing scared isn't an option, they need leadership in that locker room, they need Jared Allen to rebirth Mullet Nation and find his competitive fire after getting married becoming that guy who says he can't come out with the boys tonight, they need someone besides Brad Childress who can't fire up a lighter soaked piece of wood with a spark hanging over the top of it.

/end rant

In other news, there's 35 days until my birthday party in Las Vegas.  I hope a few of you drop by as social media doesn't give what a drink and smile do.

Jenn Sterger's Meal Ticket

"I slipped one past the goalie!".

Now that statement would wake up a few people if said in a bubble or shouted over the top of several conversations at a recent party like my annual Oktoberfest shindig that 30+ people plus their kids drop by for bier and spatzel.  My super-sperm however is unable to even get out of the equipment room and is as cold as a puck in a bucket of ice after having my wang flipped about by the Lara Croft assistant while high on Xanax.  When you're married you remember such things vividly as penis touching by female other than the one who yells at you to stop playing poker so late or ask why you bought the salmon instead of the rainbow trout because she had a coupon for buy one get one free.  Now I doubt Brett Favre got his junk grabbed by one Jenn Sterger (as seen here when she was first "discovered" as a FSU student).  Like my naughty nurse who was probably thinking about where to have a nice pasta bowl after work, Sterger got an upfront view of a married man's unit that was attached to a very popular football player.  A player who many see as iconic but flawed which shows on the field with brillant performances and equally heart-breaking defeats.  You could play the old "Wide World of Sports" music in the background while Vinko Bogataj takes a tumble off the ski ramp and Favre throws an interception late in the fourth quarter of a playoff game.

"To be great you take risk that no one else would",  a quote stated in many different forms since the time of Socrates, most likely this wasn't our quarterback's line of thought while texting dong shots to a woman who has already lined up her second Playboy photo shoot (pending as I received an *ahem* email with pictures of a future shoot, it's NOT MINE I swear honey!).  Not to be sexist and it will come off as such, but Sterger is not Millie "Auntie May" Babbs, 74, from Council Bluff, Iowa who enjoys a rousing game of a tournament Euchre after the Knights of Columbus Fish fry at the Christ the Redeemer church following five o'clock mass.  Did Streger deserve unwarranted post patterns?  No.  Is there probably more background to this story that will never come out?  Yes.   As someone who used her road block sized chest to obtain jobs and cash do you think a pics of a man's member really upset her enough to wait TWO YEARS before talking about it after getting fired by Sport Illustrated and timing the coming out party for maximum *insert Bevis and Butthead laugh* exposure while the folk hero took the field as an opponent during a MONDAY NIGHT game against the team she represented at the time of the pictures.

But, but ,but she shouldn't be subjected to such barbarism!  True.  I'm not in the "she deserves" it for wearing such lack of loincloths.  No woman should, but there's a place of common sense here that Sterger comes off as opportunistic in this case over and over.  If she wanted to be taken seriously or was truly appalled like I'm sure the millions of Favre fans out there are, then those photos should have been produced days not years after receiving them.  Because now it feels like a sports bettor who goes to the casino window after the game is done and says "I want my money because I totally would have bet on the Hamilton Tiger-Cats to upset the Argonauts today".  No statute of limitations?  This wasn't rape, he didn't grope her after a Thursday practice, or try to dry hump her leg while doing body shot at Hooters, it was a picture.  One that seemed to have stayed on her phone for two years...  do you have many pics on your phone from two years ago?

Creditability of the witness is something lawyers use to shed their opponents in court.  Flaunting your tits in public should not subject you to unwanted cock shots, but since there was no immediate reaction from yourself or public outcry of such phallus phunny talk and the timing of the story, why should we care? 

Answer:  let it go, move on, nothing some eye bleach won't solve, and hope the future Hall-of-Famer can throw on some pants and not throw a pick-six late in the game the next time.

Deep Fried Favre

You probably felt it after getting off the bus or out of your car while walking towards the building of your employer this morning.  It was darker out, the winds nip a little more as the oppressive humidity rolls somewhere behind the nearest Starbucks.  While the leaves have not changed colors, Fall is around the corner as noted by the annual state get-together known as the Minnesota State Fair commercials.  Minnesotans can always count on the major TV channels and StarTribune to send bright photos and images that seem to waif the smells of cheese curds and bacon on a stick thru their respective mediums.

Eight days until Snelling Ave. becomes a parking lot while waiting to slide, hopefully into a grassy parking lot or one jump across the road to the many residents who open up a side business for two weeks hoping to syphon a few bucks from parking or make-shift lutefisk stand before they enter the fairgrounds.  This fair go'er grew up marking the date on the calendar, getting up at the crack of dawn to sit in the parking lot before the fairground roared to life to have cake donuts and milk from a thermos off the back door of the station wagon with his brother and sister.  My further memories of the Fair are consciously lost from the head injury but something down deep wakes up my senses when it's time to visit the 4-H buildings and see the Princess Kay of the Milky Way carved in butter.

Photo Cred (Jannorris.com)

Even with the Twins making a late-season push towards not only a playoff spot, but a potential World Series berth with a powerful lineup and suspect starting pitching (nice job for the sweat Baker, you need to treat Thome to Manny's after blowing that four-run lead), the Fair is coming.

Even with Favre-gasm Dos exploding ESPN into FavreCenter yesterday and most of this morning.  This rabid fan of the Purple and Gold needed new Calvin Klines after the buildup on Twitter with three star players very noticably missing from the practice field on Tuesday morning.  Was the defense collapsing because Jared Allen drove his pickup thru a bar in Minnetonka at 3am?  Did Ryan Longwell mistake a block of cement for a pop can?  Did Steve Hutchinson finally decide to live like a Northern Minnesota native in the mists of Lake Vermillion catching smallmouth bass and drinking pitchers of Schmidt Light at the Kwazy Wabbit?  No, they were in Mississippi giving a Hellmuthian escort (but I doubt Hutch look that good in a bikini top and boy shorts) 

How to pissed off Mean Gene despite the presence of boobs

Yep, Brett Favre is back.  Today is a press conference where he'll ride in without his beloved John Deere and give Minnesotans one more year of excitement followed by heartache that we have come to terms with as sports fans in this state.  Wanted?  Definitely.  Needed?  Does T-Jack get your hopes of a ring up?  No.  And Tarvaris if I could, your quote yesterday said "I don't care if he's back", actually you should. if you want to be the starter next year or if some asshole like Sean Payton tells his players to purposely injure the AARP rep behind the center.  The PR correct answer was:  "It's great that I'll be learning from a future Hall-of-Fame quarterback with hopes of leading this team in the near future".  Say what you want through the grill of your facemask, but when faced with the media keep those comments to yourself, as now you'll get painted as a cancer to a potential playoff/Super Bowl contender.  Sad that you haven't learned the PR game or controlled that sawed-off shotgun of an arm spraying balls like pellets from its barrel.

For the next eight days the prize is on the Midway of the State Fair not the bat of Jim Thome saving the day, or talented media whore turning me unwillingly into a fanboi (damn you Favre!).  Nope, I'll be sitting in that patted down grass parking lot waiting for the box of donuts to passed to me.

After the all-you-can-drink milk and Sweet Martha's Cookies are gone all bets are off and the Helga Hat comes out of the closet :)   SKOL!!!!

Smells Like Favre Spirit

A little more than a year ago, the air musky with a hint of despiration smelling like Great Aunt Lovey's den.  Once the center of attention in year's past and as soon as that afternoon now contained a tired group of on-lookers and even more depleted group of players.  The raised poker table had six players left from the 2009 Binions Poker Classic Omaha Eight-or Better tournament as the clock turned into the single digits of the morning.  A far cry from the high rolling pros who called this casino home for the month long endurance series called the World Series of Poker for three decades, now forced to offer local grinders and discount tournament players a series at 1/10th the cost of the bracelet chasers and "famous" pros. 

A deranged woman who like someone just tossed her puppy into a microwave fidgeted back and forth with a sack of papers that became more and more of mess with every meth-addled step.  From my vantage point in the four seat, a group of scribes had rolled downtown from the Rio and decided to cheer on a half-deaf kid from Minnesota playing the one game he felt comfortable enough to sit with anyone.  Despite their tired faces, the smiles gave me a greater high than oxy, ecstasy, and Jesus ever could.  If you want to get into those writers shoes for a brief moment I highly suggest reading this post, then clicking here to buy Dr. Pauly's Lost Vegas. 

Hop over here for the skinny on the book

The blinds were at the point where no one had more than 10 big bets, and I was facing a raise in the big blind from the Hawaiian kid in the eight seat whom I chatted with a bit on the other tables.  A drink a hour was the pace but I was doing the Captain and Cokes more for the caffeine at this point and looked down at a ragged low hand.  Calling left me with three big bets and slighly more than his stack, and missing meant two more orbits as the prize money ramped up steeply (for me, remember I'm used to getting excited about final tables in chicken nugget buy-in online tourneys) from $1,000 to over $3K for fifth with $8,500 to the winner.  I made the call and as the dealer laid out a two low, all heart flop I checked my cards to see a lowly pair, a VERY weak low draw, and one heart but the Aica, HI native told me that he'd rarely played O8 and liked NLHE more.  So, immediately I cut out a bet and put on my face of granite.  A little sweat, a peek toward Otis, Mean Gene, the lovely CK (who finished 8th), Al Cant Hang, and F-Train and they all knew I was full of shit, but that didn't matter and would probably earn me a drink or two later.  For a few minutes my opponent hemmed and hawed, tried to half-muck his cards in order to get a reaction from me but once the pot got pushed I carefully slid those rags to the dealer and two hands later the Hawaiian was out and we were on break coming back to 50K/100K blinds and I'm holding just enough to squeak by an orbit without playing.

This isn't about that night which was probably one of my best gambling rolls I'd ever been on, and despite drinking for a solid 15 hours, three more 60-minute intervals of booze and Pai Gow would come because one does not refuse a drink (or four) from Al Cant Hang or the chance to watch an Otis  Degree All-In Moment at the Pai Gow tables with a greyhound resting in your hand. No, it's about the bluff I pulled which unfortunately is rare (because I suck playing poker sober) but the situation warranted it, unlike Mr. Brett Favre, my bluff did not cause the world's largest sport station to turn into a montage of my playing career.  One peep from "sources" and instead of Phil Mackey chatting on ESPN1500 about Vikings training camp and the resurgent Twins who looked strong against the Rays this week but fell short, he had to field questions about number four returning to the purple today instead of after week one of the preseason for the length of his noon to two spot.  Then at five p.m. with dinner at my parent's place, Sportcenter dribbled out Ed Worthless live from the Favre compound and another 25 minutes of filling up my favorite show with bloated "Favre is retiring" themes.

photo cred: here

You could have sucked up 100 days of oil spill with that vortex of hot air.  Good grief people, I about as rabid Minnesota Vikings fan as you can get and I'm sick of it.  After the news came out I fully ready to publish a Onion-like parody with Favre pulling off the biggest practical joke ever by screwing over the Vikes in last season's finale with the interception that erased a missed FG by Gary Anderson as the most painful Minnesota sporting memory, arm and arm with a laughing Ted Thompson behind the scenes shouting GREEN AND GOLD FOREVER from his trusty John Deere riding lawn mower in the middle of Lambeau.  But, the man gave me the most exciting year as a fan ever.  Even more than 1998.  For that he gets a little shred of respect and hope that the media circus pulls up its tent stakes quicker this year.

Just play or don't play Brett.  Either way, thank you.

Well Played Sears

Yep, another big decision, have fun waiting seven months for the answer Vikes fans

Let the spectulation begin on Brett Farve's return.

/looks at watch

Nope not August yet. Sigh.

My early thoughts? If anyone offers you more than 2 to 1 in favor on returning, jump on the bet in favor of returning.

16 Down, Three to Go

Photo credit: StarTribune

Favre-overload has been the way of life for the Viking fan this year. Not Purple Jesus, Moss, Culpepper, Love Boat Strippers/Hookers, or Touchdown Tommy plowing thru Hennepin Ave with a blood alcohol content on par with the percentage off of all dish towels during a linen sale at Target. Wrap all those personalities and issues together and you'd have a 15-second lead-in story into a 5 minute exclusive on Favre's breakfast decision. The things he's done here on the football field have been nothing short of a reawaking for team that just need one part to become part of the NFL elite.

He's supposed to be an unassuming, laid-back country boy yet the sports media circus that surrounds him is befitting for your run-of-the-mill latest Hollywood starlet that decided to kick her cocaine habit after getting caught snorting a line off Ron Jeremy's back on Sunset avenue. He's a 1st ballot Hall-of-Famer, we get it, let the man have his swan song, one last time down the Metrodome Mall of America field turf with 60,000 fans screaming for a new stadium and an extension on this year's playoffs.

Now if you'll excuse me, all this Favre talk has given me a season long identity crisis as rooting for the pariah of Packer Football (save Starr, Bart and Lombardi, Vince) feels like a sparkly vampire that needs to drink holy water to live. Yet here we are five months after touchdown at the Lindbergh Terminial of MSP, the Super Bowl still within grasp and we're still rooting for number four. All Viking fans save the biggest homers who bought their Favre jerseys in August and haven't taken them off since, are waiting for a reason to pile on Favre. Just one pick six to blow the game, a fumble, knocking up three cheerleaders at halftime, something to hate the guy again.

But I can't.

This year has been the most exciting to watch as a Vikings fan since the 1998 season, and in some ways more exciting since that team blew teams away with its record-setting offense where as this team had several fourth quarter blood pressure bursting drives and plays:

Still gives me goosebumps watching it

Either way, thank you Mr. Favre, regardless of Sunday's decision this season has been one to remember until I'm slurping protein shakes for meals in the local nursing home while donning my tattered Jaren Allen jersey.

But I'm still not buying that book.

A Walk Through 2009: April thru June

April:

- SCOOP became a big thing around my household. Not as a player (might change this year, as I’m looking to take a shot sometime this year) but as a humble scribe. I would have thought by now reporting on online poker tournaments the lack of human interaction would turn this job into a tedious one.

Exact opposite.

There’s a strange rush I get from watching unknown pros, hoodie/sunglasses WPT-wannabes, and the basement dwelling 30-tabling Supernovas battle it out for more cash than I’ll see in a decade. There’s no resentment of making the “here’s your new SCOOP Champion yaKKaZuMA69 who won $350,000.00 after defeating RubYoMama heads-up for the 6-max Super-Turbo One Card Exposed Hold Em’ Championship!”. It sounds ridiculous but I enjoy my Sunday nights and those big tournament gigs that test sanity with 6-8 hours of work till the wee hours of the next day, then trying to cram a 10-hour day of spreadsheets and invoices all while remembering that Kyra only likes the purple bendy straws in her chocolate milk.

- Had a shot at the elusive Mookie title but vacated the wait

- Got ready for another season of softball after “retiring” for the most part. One of the better decisions as the nights in the parking lot after the games were a mid-week stress relief.

- Minnesota tried to ban online gambling which would have effectively killed my future blogger endeavors since my funds for such trips comes from working on the PokerStarsBlog and the very rare tournament scores.

May:
- The first Brett Favre reports come out. Of course I’m in dreamland now with two games before a possible Super Bowl, but as a lifetime Vikings fan Brett Favre represented the epitome of football hated as the best player on the rival’s team (and even if they go one-and-out I'd thank him for the excitement this year). But, this fan of the Purple couldn’t comprehend the media coverage that follows this guy. Holy shit even Randy Moss, Joe Mauer, Kevin Garnett, and Visanthe Shiacoe’s dong combined couldn’t get more face time on ESPN than this guy.

- There was also quick hit about what your Minnesota sports jersey says about you

June:

- WSOP begins, friends start their long journey thru the Amazon Room’s bad food, strippers looking for tricks on the rail, and 17 hour days for the next 40-ish days.

Personally, I will try to make it out there again this year because I did seemed to do quite well chopping up the O8 event down at the Binion's Poker Classic despite being not in-the-bag, but thru-the-bag-and-searching-for-discarded-hooker-handouts after a 15 hour playing/drink-athon. Seeing Otis, Gene, F-Train, and Al railing me and CK while taking in that couple straight from an HBO special on “What Happens When Psych Patients Don’t Take Their Meds”.

Sadly the guy could have ran over the final table with the chip lead he had but instead watched that mighty fortress of clay reduced to pleading to be included in the 5-way chop. Basically his ego and harpy wife cost him the $5K difference between the chop money and stated first prize.

Next up July, August, and September also known as the only months you won't see three inches of ice on Minnesotan roads.

A Mid-Season Letter to Brett Favre

Dear Brett,

Months ago while you were mulling over the return to the NFL in the form of a grizzled union worker to put in 16 years of service with one company only to be forced out by a younger worker and given the opportunity to sign on with their rival corporation to show you still had something to give, a friend of mine sent you a letter. This friend grew up watching your every touchdown bunny hop and following it up with cheers as year in year out you would breathe life into the Vikings most hated rival.

While I haven’t sent a letter to someone I’m not friends with on a personal level since asking Santa Claus many years ago for that Castle Grayskull set complete with trap doors and limited edition Skeletor, I thought it would be therapeutic to fire off a few words to yourself as we’ve reached mid-season of the most exciting Vikings year since 1998. Like Packer fans would gush over their 1996 team that again, you headlined, the team that could have been here in 1998 represented this franchises best shot at breaking into football’s championship circle once and for all. Now, with a record of 7-1 and you probably returning to Mississippi this week for some much needed rest and with any luck ESPN will not be sending a crew down to your estate to give national updates on your switching from Colgate Minty flavor with tartar block to Crest with whitening toothpaste.

Being a Vikings fan since my late Grandpa Gordy could sit me up in front of the blocky RCA with the big channel knobs that only had four, five, nine, and eleven come in to watch the national game-of-the-week after the Catholic church service with an old school purple hat with gold trim when folded over and a Vikings patch in the front. Touchdown Tommy Kramer was my hero on the gridiron. Tossing passes to Sammy White and future NBA analyst and Mrs. Cosby’s husband Ahmad Rashad gave me the first taste of my fanboism for the home team. But the thing is there was no extra spark on those teams in the 80s, sure there was success in the form of Jerry Burns taking over from long time winner Bud Grant but the team sputtered through the decade with no Super Bowl chances. Same thing in the 90s, but the 1998 team had that spark, breaking nearly every offensive team record in the books with a rookie named Randy Moss and semi-retired Randle Cunningham. That season ended with a wide left and head scratching of what might have been if 72 year old Gary Anderson would have iced the game while extending his perfect kicking season and people outside of Atlanta wouldn’t even know what the “Dirty Birds” were all about today.

After that season Culpepper eventually tried to fist pump this team to the next level, but after the Love Boat debacle and a shredded knee that never healed the team’s Super Bowl dreams sailed off with every pinched penny from Red McCombs who was more interested in squeezing money out of a horribly outdated stadium with a long list of journeymen quarterbacks. Still I cheered while rooting for my beloved Purple on every Sunday that wasn’t blacked out. Then came Zygi (OY OY OY!) and his open wallet to acquire talent in the form of Jared Allen, Pat Williams, Antoine Winfield, and Bernard Berrian. The front office got their heads out of their asses and drafted quality starters like Sidney Rice, Percy Harvin, Phil Loadholt, and of course Purple Jesus.

But one thing was missing.

The spark.

That’s where you came in. Despite this glut of talent the team had no band leader to lead them on the big parade. T-Jack wasn’t it, as fans watched each game he played with the same tentativeness of a parent watching a two year old trying to drink milk from an open cup for the first time. We just hoped he wouldn’t spill versus doing something to win .

And win you have. I can’t recall ever having this much fun watching the Vikings as I have for the past two months all while trying to embrace the fact that you “Public Enemy Number One” as coined by John Randle years ago, are a big reason why this team should coast to another NFC North title. This the question I have for you now that the emotional games of defeating your former team for the first time at the Metrodome and running down the visitor’s tunnel at the house that Brett rebuilt have been played and won:

Now that you have given Ted Thompson the proverbial middle finger in the form of two games throwing for seven touchdowns and clutch passes against his club while the defense decided to nap in the second half, what’s your motivation to finish out the season as it has begun?

You, Mr. Favre, have done everything to solidify your spot in Canton and football lore, what is your drive to stand on the 50 yard line of Dolphin Stadium in February 2010 hoisting your second Lombardi Trophy while chatting it up with Jim Nantz about the game’s MVP award as the confetti settles into the playing field.

Even if the above scene never happens and you’re on a plane from New Orleans returning to Winter Park after losing the NFC Championship game, thank you giving this Vikings fan something to watch this year.

Sincerely,

A Fan


P.S. I'm hoping to crash a team party before the year is out and just to shake your hand and say thanks in person.

Weekend Minnesota Sports Viewings

Gophers vs. Wisconsin for the Paul Bunyon Ax starting at Noon. The new TCF Bank stadium doesn't suck, the weather however is going to be cold and wet not the 80s and sunny we've been enjoying for the past month.

Twins vs. The Greinkes somehow the team has manage to spur playoff hopes after splitting the crucial series last week. With the 2009 Cy Young award winner on the hill today for the Royals, those hopes will most likely end up in the trash like a discarded malt cup stick.

Black Dynamo vs. FC Red MG: this one the upstart midfielder Wyatt will try to neutralize the Swedish exchange student, Kjell, with the floppy blonde bowl cut hair and slick cross-overs while 3'7" Ethan leds a powerful offense built on speed. Played on the cold pitch of Rush Creek Elementary, the elements will come into play as the kids get their first taste of playing sports in fall Minnesotan weather as parents strive for perfectly cut orange wedges and fruit snacks in the shape of popular movies on the sidelines.

Vikes vs. Packers (Monday): If you've turned on a TV in the last week there's nothing more to be said about this one. Please keep the Brett Favre references to a minimum because after seeing the rube crew at Buffalo Wild Wings listening to a live broadcast of the Paul Allen on KFAN, fan here in Purple country are an undefined excited adjective about this game.

If you need to know what this Volleyball player is signaling she will be blocking the cross hits while her similarly hot assed partner should take the line spike. Or she'd like to get some head from two guys during the next time out. I'll let you decide.

The First Time

It started like every other first date, the excitement of the first kiss coming strong and hard, the tingle of unfamiliarity not knowing where it was going. Hands sliding across places left untouched for so long causing goose bumps and heavy breathing followed by eyes closing right before the dual money shot and then collapsing on the bed spent from the emotional and sexual high. Throats dry from screaming, eyes looking across the room wondering how the hell we got sideways on the bed, and a sly smile like you just got away with bluffing with seven-deuce offsuit in a game of strip poker causing her to lose that newly acquired lavender lace see-through bra showing the goods underneath. Sadly, it all lasted all but over a minute, leaving me wanting more.

The day after my first Favre-gasm, I still feel dirty from the win that shouldn’t have happened in a game that seems to break from every NFL script of long drives determining the winner. A blocked FG for a touchdown made a 10 point swing before halftime, a 101 yard return for TD, refs trying their best to pad the stats of Yellow Flag who seemed to have more yards gained than both teams combined at one point. The team leading 58 minutes into the game failed to convert a single third down play (note they did convert a clutch fourth down play), but they also played some awesome run D shutting down Purple Jesus to a mere 80-ish yards.

On Saturday night a concerned FFL owner asked about the Purple Jesus against the 49ers and I told him how the game should play out:

1) Purple Jesus will grind out some yards, but will not score
2) Percy Harvin will score in some way
3) Favre will throw much more than in the first two games

Check, check, and check. But, I had no idea “more” meant over 40 tosses, my estimates were around low 30s as the Vikings shouldn’t need to lean on Favre like this but wow did he hit me with a lightning strike of amazement since Cyndi let my hand slide up her t-shirt in my parent’s porch when we were supposed to be at the homecoming game 17 years ago. Not since Puckett was fist-pumping around the bases in the World Series have Minnesota sports fans have been treated to just excitement. True, it’s week three and with only one divisional game under the belt of the Purple but just to get the pulse racing to an hour long aerobic workout is more action the average Viking jersey donning rube as gotten since a rookie Moss was taking in bombs from Cunningham during the fabled 1998 season.

Could it happen again? This week is the test. Will Favre’s age come into play and forget which locker room to come out of? Will there be more Packer #4 jerseys in the stands? Will the Vikes front four destroy the soft O-line of the Packers and disrupt a very good QB in Rodgers as the Bears did?

Madden would cream his pants to announce this one, and don’t be surprised if somehow the announcing maven finds a way to get into Metrodome’s media booth next to KFAN where Tirico, Jaws, and Gruden will be settled in to throw a Favre mention every other play on offense or defense.

To more important things: I’m now one prop bet down and Speaker will be receiving free pints and a bucket o’ sausage at the Nine Fine Irishmen at NYNY in December. This week will be The Wife’s shot at my homerism as I give betting lines too big (I would have bet the 49ers +7 all day with any parlay card) because of my Purple-tinted sunglasses. I know she’s traveling as the big shot VP at the moment so if you’re reading, drop a line on the proposed prop bet and we’ll get down to negotiations without the lawyers in the room.

SKOL!!!!

Crackback Attack

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Quick Hits: The Blink and Its Gone Edition

Two quick hits as my close friends knocked me sideways this weekend and left little to no gas in the tank for thoughts.

- How do the journos at the Star Trib come up with not one but two feature articles the next morning on Brett Favre's "performance" in his first preseason game? And I thought poker writers had to fluff with the excitement of one of those hand-held dogs getting a beggin strip waved in front of their faces. 1 for 4 and this deserved over 3,000 words?

BUT ITS BRETT FAVRE!!!!111ONEONEONEONE

Yes, the Brett will get overly cushoned words in the daily rags until the battle against the Browns then its put up or shut up time as the expectation of this team is in Peter King's words "lofty". Anything with Favre at the helm below an NFC Championship Game and Chilly is looking for coordinator work else where in the NFL next year.

Make it happen captain.

---

Thought number two: If you're not going to play hard, why bother working hard?

Had a whirlwind weekend thanks to close friends and I woke up at the 9 to 5 today feeling like I just punched the time clock on last Thursday. I understand responsiblities are the key to not ending up living under a bridge with your kids in social services but after they're safely tucked away in Transformers/Strawberry Shortcake dreamland shouldn't the adults be allowed their kid time?

I think so.

I think so often.

Its a reminder that despite every "OMG SHE HIT ME" and dinner not eaten after fifteen not-so-subtle hints that parents need to bust out their kid or begin the journey to brainless couch potatoes watching the 7 to 9 lineup of sitcoms and drama on CBS.

Alcohol doesn't need to be involved, the fun does. I lost the want for that fun once and almost ended up with visitation rights and an alimony payment, this humble suburban white trash will not be letting go of that again. Equal parts hard work and partying make for a full life that may be shunned by fundies and other finger-pointing humans, but if you're not here to have a good time when one is available why bother living?

Forbbiden Fruit

Yesterday on Facebook I made a comment about the newest member of the Minnesota Vikings.

"Its like Jessica Biel standing naked at my front door ready for sex with my wife standing right behind me."

Of course being the family man I am the logical thing to do would be to get the wife drunk and have a threesome. Problem solved and everyone goes home happy.

Except here comes the possible savior to a long suffering football team that never made that one signing to put it over-the-top (actually its a theme in Minnesota professional sports: see the last decade of the Twins and Garnett-led Timberwolves for examples), in the form of a player that a true Vikings rube has grown to desist with every playful snowball thrown or Wranglers jeans commerical. He was the best player on our arch-rival's team for over a decade, daggering the Vikes slim chances of a fifth Super Bowl loss with every below zero temperature victory on Lambeau Field's frozen blades of grass.

If there was an association test, a picture of Brett Favre wouldn't get a one-word description, just a resounding BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Some fans have reacted to the NFL career leader in just about every quarterbacking statistic's return in a not-so-favorable-light (see Big Daddy Drew's first rant at KSK, expect him to lay it on thick for the next six months no matter what Favre does on the field). I can side with Drew, because as a Vikings fan since my Irish-born grandfather first slid a purple and gold stocking cap with the plushy ball at the top over my four year old head, I rooted on this team through the Les Stuckel year, the Herschel Walker "Let's Give the Dallas Cowboys a Few Super Bowls" trade, the 1998 super season that ended with a thud, the Smoot-boat/ticket scalping fun, Jerry Burns years of almost getting there.

A lot of teams that looked awesome on paper then folded into an elaborate paper airplane which glided for some majestic moments before running into an industrial sized shredder turning all those all-pros and stats into confetti for someone elses parade.

There's Otis who shows a side of Favre that many non-Vikings fan have tried to argue to me over the years. Country boy who took his lazer arm and dominated his era with his "I don't give a shit what the media says" attitude and played the game to the best of his abilities and won more often than not.

And we're back to staring at those perfect stems of Biel with the wife looking ready to take a Stihl to certain parts of my anatomy if things don't get said. Personally, the feeling of being a sellout for wanting this is tough on a true fan. Would a Red Soxs fan openly invite Derek Jeter to play position number six if it meant a better shot at another title?

Granted we're talking about a 39 year old guy who's arm whittled away last season after Week 10. My fanboishness will not oversee that this is someone who won his 3- time NFL MVP awards when my thoughts were more on playing volleyball all-night and trying to get laid in college. Age, shoulder that would only take one good smack from an unblocked nose tackle to send him back to Mississippi but why not take the chance?

I await the first blogger/writer to make the 1998 comparsions of an older All-pro quarterback stepping into the mix in his twilight years (Cunningham) and tossing high lobs to an rookie/emerging troubled wideout (Moss/Harvin), sideline passes to the established receiver (Carter/Berrian), cutting routes to the big WR unknown nationally (Reed/Rice), and of course the running back that spread the defense (Smith/Purple Jesus). The Vikes defense didn't suck with a bat-shit crazy defensive end (Randle/Allen) and Jerry Ball (Williams Wall) plugging up the middle.

Will it happen again? Or will the age and injuries (rotator cuff) be too much for the long season?

Its why we're fans, there's always the possiblity that your team can come through.

My hope is to see Gary Anderson put it through the uprights this time.

The Rash Returns

Kfavre.com is baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! Sigh.

How would you like to be Rosenfelds right now after pitching a 10 for 13 game, work hard at training camp, and still have this wall of white stuff that hangs from the sides of your mouth when you're dehydrated ready to swoosh in stunt dick style and steal the scene. (Kare11's story showing quotes from Brett Favre ballsack carrier Peter King and Fox's Jay Glazer)

Even my favorite morning radio crew is hanging their heads that Favre will make his return. Has Vegas set a line yet on this? Would anyone gamble on that? It might be more unpredictible than facing a Phil Ivey river bet and twice as tough to get paid off since his decision flip-flops more than a incumbent two months before Election Day.

UPDATE: Glazer appearently knows more than I, per KFAN.com Favre is on a team plane as of right now coming here to sign. Drama over.

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Still amazed how quickly the summer has past as the weather here in the Twin Cities has begun to fade into Fall-like crispness in the afternoons with a hint of the smokey humidity happening once or twice a week versus the 150% invisible cloud of sweat residents of this state are used to. Last weekend at the cabin had all the seasons except the polar ice caps. In a span of eight hours the temp swung some 30 degrees going from baking heat, to calm outside card playing climate, to downpours and tornado warnings.

Despite the fact that The Great Minnesota Get-Together is next Friday officially marking the end of summer for this lefse-loving state, its been a good two hours of summer that was enjoyed to its fullest this year with many trips "up north", the VERY profitable Vegas/WSOP trip, and of course enjoying a game of baseball and a top 5 dinner with my invisible internet friends in Chicago.

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I have a confession to make.

I enjoy play money online slot machines.

I actually shot up a fist pimp when my son correctly picked all of the bonus round selections on the Tomb Raider "nickel" machine to win 30,000 virtual coins and Lara Croft starting bouncing up and down.

I live a sad existence but least I do it with a smile on my face and have a family to put up with my dorkiness.

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Tiger's downfall has surely been beaten to death by the virtual and real media and I had the chance to be there yet I sat at home watching the lack of life on my TV screen versus the plush fairways of Hazeltine (by the way if you type "Hazel" you get Keeley Hazell as the first search, not there's anything wrong with that, take your time there).

Chance of a lifetime sure, but two kids needed someone to climb over and on, for some reason I put my frantic sports rube in the closet and decided being a daddy was more important.

To tell you the truth, it was.

Favre Must Have a Vagina

Because he can't make up his damn mind and guys are going crazy over it.

Can someone inform Jay Glazer over at Fox Sports that April Fools Day is in fact in April when no NFL-ish football is played?

Brett Favre maybe kinda doesn't like training camp which is why he'll magically appear in Week 3 of the preseason in the Purple and Gold.

My favorite part of the article is Glazer mentioning he'd "bet the farm" on Favre's return.

O rly?

Placing that kind of wager on a man who sniffs too much John Deere exhaust fumes and can't be relied on to make a decision on Strawberry or Grape jelly on his daily PB and J with the crust cut off, is akin to backing Waffles into all of the World Series of Poker tournaments and expecting him to win.

Thus ends my mini-rant, you can thank Miss Dawn Summers.

Bye, Bye, Bye

Quite the night for Minnesota sports and I'm left with just a few words.

Favre - Done. Those who love a conspiracy theory may make a play that this was all some last dagger number four has thrown from Green Bay at the Minnesota Viking in tossing their QB situation into a deeper abyss then it already is. The ultimate tease, the champagne room, the promises of something more while the person dishing out skin piece by piece is just looking for a payday for themselves while using you for the fool.

I will give Favre credit for pumping up excitement about training camp and possiblities of an NFC Championships, but now the Vikes will settle back into being wild card contenders while the talking heads at KFAN, ESPN, and local news media will drive home the fact that this team lacks just one thing from becoming a legit squad while the fan base watches 9-3 games while drowning their heavy sighs in a pitcher of Surly.

On top of all this T-Jack was being named the starter before training camp on ESPN (but all Vikings know that Rosenfelds is a 50-50 shot of becoming the starter).

For Favre, NSYNC has this to say.

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Watching Mark Buehrle carve up the Twins lineup with precision not power last night until the 6th inning was a textbook pitching performance on how to get outs without blowing a 95+ MPH heater past the batter. The spin, the placement, the change of speeds baffled the Twinkies as much the Rays during last week's perfect game.

Then the wheels came off. Walking the Twins worst batter, not just worst starter, worst hitter sitting in the clubhouse at the dome and at AAA Rochester. Alexi Casilla is not a major league player but will be known as the guy who broke up the 45 batters perfection for the next couple of weeks on a pitch that missed low by inches. Then the no-hit was broken by a meatball over the middle of the plate for a very decent Denard Span, that rolled into the hometown golden boy Joe Mauer to lean a double into the stands to tie the game.

The Twins would go on to win the game taking the first two in the three game set with the South Siders (of which my wife will be attending tonight while the perfect husband takes care of the kids), and have managed to grab three games on the Tigers this week.

It's KFavre!

Weekly dose of Favre crazy: KFavre! Yes, you can get all your Favre-tastic radio information outside of John Madden's bowel movements now!

Its a mirror site of the official home of the Minnesota Vikings: KFAN, which as of this moment is 100% Favre-free, but according to a Fargo website and Reebok that may be changing soon...

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The attemps to cram in as many activities for the past month will continue its familygasm ways for the next two months. Father's day was spent recovering from the night before thanks to friends who were kind enough to help with the rigorous liver training necessary to survive a trip to Vegas with certain WSOP media row degenerates currently several weeks into their alternate reality.

As for poker play, there was Friday night that was spent low rolling the 180 man tourneys on Stars (one cash, one not-so-much), then another final table in a 90 man SnG on Full Tilt where I rolled up a final table short stack into a runner up check. Other than that, nothing. No quicky cash games or SnGs before bed, no watching the 2008 WSOP on ESPN, just earning cash for the summer cushion fund when things get tight around the house since my wife takes a deep pay cut over the summer.

PokerStarsBlog pimp here: Sunday Warm-up recap and Sunday Million recap

Thus the reason for one fitful hour of sleep yesterday as random internet player got lucky for 10 hours straight and finished off a quick heads-up game around 3:00am, brushed up the webpage and recap at 3:30am, my shower started at 4:30am and by 6:00am it was back to the corporate grind with a thank you trinket sitting on my desk for assisting with the ways of Microsoft Access (I'm a green belt g33k on the side). Sobe Energy was liquid gold to keep my half fitness molded body upright to slay spreadsheets and debits with the fury of a cracked out Rio hooker bar regular that just found out she was paid with tournament chips versus the proceeds of rolling five straight points during the dinner break.

Yes, getting in shape have seeped into my daily routine. Not to the point of running marathons or 10Ks under 30 minutes, but to the point where working all-night does not cause walls to get in my way while breathing and walking at the same time increase in difficulty. Losing weight is not something in my gym itinerary as redistributing that weight would suffice. Also, playing softball at the speed I grew accustom to during the days before children, responsiblity, and the choice to pour out my thoughts onto these pages.

I am not, nor will I become a health-nut or start chewing on the bark of the willow tree for breakfast nutrients but sweating with 40 women in a group aerobics class three days a week seems like a win-win situation especially as you watch the mother of your children slim herself back into the body of the three sport athlete and smile a little more due to it.

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Parenting question

Situation: Its Father's Day, you receive a freshly cooked breakfast with yummy cooked meats scrambled into eggs and cheese. You go shopping with the family troupe throughout the day and end up at your brother's place for grilled animals on buns. Relaxed on a the laz-e-boy your beautiful three year old with questionable bowel control proclaims an emergency. Your wife decided to break your day-long calm bubble by directing you to get her to the toilet before Dora the Explorer and Boots find a chocolate log in their way to Papa's Party.

Despite frantic efforts you do not succeed, instead a nice Mounds bar surprise plops out causing a mess. Pointing and laughing occur behind you of course.

How do you react?

Champions yet again

I'm ready Sir Waffles (picture from the fine folks at LasVegasVegas)

Roger Federer takes home the French Open, completes the career Grand Slam, snagged a free hat from the crowd, and still gets free Toberlone.





Tiger Woods does what Tiger Woods is supposed to. He wins, he actually hit fairways which I've heard makes the game of golf much easier. Personally I don't see the need to hit off of perfectly manicured turf when a nice piece of gravel behind a 20 foot pine will help the ball spin to within five feet after banking off the ranger's cart.





Waffles wins the Battle of the Bloggers TOC and will spend his $10,000 at the WSOP following Evy Ng wearing night vision glasses while toting a sign for asking her to come his suite at the Imperial Palace for five two minutes.

Or not.





Congrats to whoever won, can't find a story this morning at there were 7 left. I saw Hoy, CK, and JJ in the mix when I nearly passed out for non-alcoholic reasons thanks to the cabin being a bit chilly this weekend and my wife deciding that taking covers from me was perfectly acceptable.





While you 43 or 44 lucky bloggers were battling it out for those juicy WSOP ME seats, I was working (Sunday Warm-up final table write up at PokerStarsBlog found here, of course the bigger story was Team PokerStars Pro Daniel Negreanu grinding his way to a WSOP bracelet, but fell short heads-up). Wish I had the time to play more, give myself a better shot as I probably played six actual tournaments and four of those were Skillz series ones, while signing up for a few more and forgetting to sign out. No excuses for another great promotion put on by Full Tilt, special hat tip to Al of course.

Daily dose of Favre: Shoulder surgery and Peter King wasn't there holding the golden boy's hand as they had him put on the ass crack robe and shower cap? Chilly, Ziggy you two need to stop this now or Sportscenter along with the rest of the NFL-rabid media will blanket your team with QB talk instead important things like getting ready for the season and comforting one Antoine Winfield as the contract talks heat up.

The noise, its too much

Peter King.

Why must you say such things (from Twitter)?

SI_PeterKing: note to all who want people like me and Mort to not write about Favre: It's not our choice. The Vikings QB is news. And he might be it.

Favre is not news, if he does become the quarterback the players who attended all the mini-camps and headed over to Manny's for steaks, and Rick's for a nightcap with the local talent will be teammates. Favre will not be able to bring the good ol' general gist to a team that is a QB away from topping the NFC (at least on paper). He would bring a false display of camaraderie to a team already rich in talent and vets that will not put up with the 24 hour virtual reality show that is Brett Favre.

So, Mr. King please explain why this retired land baron mocks the media on a daily/weekly basis and my favorite team by placing non-stories with vague "sources" out there for Favre lapdogs like yourself to scoop up like freshly baked chocolate chip bars from mom's kitchen.

Boobs and The Brett

A sad story from Illinois where someone potentially flipped out and killed his family (click here for link). If you read down you'll find an unwritten rule of employement at this alleged murderer's workplace:

Officials have declined to discuss details about the alleged threats. Some
neighbors in the well-kept subdivision have also said the Colemans received
threatening letters and that their mailbox was tampered with.

Police got to the suburban home that morning before the husband arrived
and discovered the bodies. Shortly after, officers had to restrain the visibly
upset man in his yard.

Chris Coleman worked security for Joyce Meyer Ministries, a Fenton,
Mo.-based evangelical Christian group. Joyce Meyer spokesman Roby Walker said
last week that Coleman resigned after an internal inquiry found he failed to
follow a ministry policy.

Walker would not say what policy Coleman allegedly violated.

Thou shalt not kill is a decent policy to have around cubicalworld to keep a safe work area whether you believe in the Jesus or not.

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Ah, the Brett.

You play around with my football-loving heart strings like my ex-high school girlfriend. Here today with a smile, a little seduction, a little skin, then gone tomorrow with another guy only to drop hints that this isn't the last time that you're going to drag my dick over hot coals.

Now you got the Rog into the mix for a sound bite (lookie down the article for Percy Harvin sightings which I'm more interested in), and you can't have controversy and suspence without the iron-fisted commissioner making comments.

See Vick, Michael for this.

Speaking of Vick, he was brushed up with a several minute segment on Sportscenter meaning The Brett was knocked off his lofty pedestal as number one not-news story coming from the NFL this Spring/Summer. Look for Favre to come out by this weekend with a story to top Vick's.

USA Today says "Keep him sidelined"
CNN.com says "Let him play!"
Drizz says: "Who cares!"

Throw em' both into the scrap heap and let the Lingerie Football League draft them for equipment manager duties.

Below are links to what a lingerie football player may look like:

Three is company.

Seven is a fanasty.

Why yes, my son's favorite color is orange (and mine is blonde).

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Poker content was almost certain for placement here today as I was doing well on my cash game tables and in the Skillz game. Then the RNG decided to deal me an endless array of 94o for an hour and got blinded off because steals make excellent sense in Limit Hold Em'! If that wasn't enough, the thought of me having profitable night was too much to bear and promptly allowed the aptly named r3tarded287 to suckout all of my profit and then some, before a mercy killing of my Skillz game in 14th place allowed me to throw my bad beat monkey across the room and power down the laptop.

At least the Leinie 1888 Bock didn't suck.

Mookie tonight for the next to last shot at the BBT4 TOC. My attendance will be mocking you from the sidelines because frankly after watching $200 melt (considering my current online bankroll, this is a good chunk of change) and my tournament chips evaporated in a matter of 5 minutes after playing well for three hours my heart isn't into giving away money tonight.

But sitting on the porch with a Surly Bender and good weather is.