Life is complicated enough right now. COVID is nowhere near slowing down, mostly thanks to the minions who believe it’s a hoax. There are more than 150,000 people who would love to debate those residents of Idiocracy if they could but they can’t, as they died.
Now we have sports making a comeback… of sorts. In a quick breeze let’s rush through what’s up before we get into the nitty gritty dirt band of details for the NHL playoff system.
Let’s call this part the final part, The Closer: The National League.
Part One, The Starter, I delved into a bit of history regarding our ballyhooed National Anthem as well as provided somewhat cogent thoughts on what songs could replace the National Anthem for each American League city. Part Two, The Closer, we will hit the National League cities, but first a few questions:
Why the fuck are we playing the National Anthem at all? What patriotism comprises the beginning of a ballgame? Should we play a game before we battle another country? Is that what we should be doing now? Send our troops over to a foreign country and force them to play an American game before war games commence?
Let’s call Part One – First Starter: The American League
Is there a more perfect time to make a change in how you start a ballgame than now? It’s a question posited by fellow Fancy Boy Jake Breunig and frankly a damn good one.
Now Jake wrote a fabulous article about abolishing the National Anthem this past August. I will defer to him his over-arching replacement choice(s) and instead give each city their just due. However, let’s first take a look at our National Anthem. What we sing is not the entire song. Why? Well it’s what one could call a little shitty toward ‘freemen’ AKA ‘slaves who were freed yet still being treated like shit on both sides.’ As with every war involving America, only the poor and minorities are asked/told to pick up a rifle. During the War of 1812 (when Francis Scott Key wrote the poem that became a song… and later the anthem), freemen were not only ‘enlisted’ to fight for the American side, but the British took a lot of them and “allowed them to fight against their oppressors” which is code for “hello good dark chap, take this rifle and hustle up to the front lines and sacrifice yourself for our cause.”
There’s been, naturally and uber-naturally, a whole mouthful of talk about making sure you eat healthy during the pandemic – chow down on fresh fruits and veggies; make room for the legumes; make meat a treat.
It certainly makes some semblance of sense. Eating within some ballpark frank of health should be some sort of priority, for chances are most of you (not me of course) are spending some serious wads of time creating prodigious dents in your couch punching the clock watching HBO, Showtime, Amazon Prime, Disney+, Hulu, or Netflix.
By the way, anybody watch Ozark on Netflix? Holy crap what a delicious combination of the nasty smart and nasty dumb. Hillbillies and High-End crime are such a tasty combination!
OK, back to food. First, clasp hands and thank the Lord of Lard. Everything with taste has some sort of fat in it. Fight me all you want, but you know I am 135% correct.
Yeah, I’m putting nature’s bounty down my gullet, but c’mon, people. What do you want me to do? Try to turn my diet on a dime into chewing on Kale like a cow with its cud and letting absolutely no one know I’m the king of cuisine? Oh hell no. No one wants to see me post recipes of nasty-ass Kale dishes on social media.
Speaking of Kale, are you aware Kale was once just a decoration (see above pic), a hard wave of green they’d put in and around buffets to try to gussy them up? Yeah, that was Kale – and now people are eating it rather than the vat of delicious banana pudding that somehow snuck its way into the salad bar section. Which, has an aside, I would like to meet the Dr. Evil of the Buffet who decided puddings were best placed in the salad section. Marketing genius.
What is it that I can do to make this young woman laugh? Hell, what is it I can do just to make her relax enough to uncross her arms?
She sat there staring at me. It felt like an eternity up there, trotting out 4 minutes of material about my mother. It wasn’t the best, but it had worked before. A few laughs here and there, enough to revise it, throw some parts out, try to add some in.
But it wasn’t working. Not on Rhiamon (not her real name but it fits). Whatever I had done to somehow suck out every single bit of bile from her and none of the laughter? That was working. It’s not what I wanted, but it was what I was going to get.
Ciao. Ta ta. Sayonara. Is it sad? Can’t say I was totally invested in it, but there were some things that certainly spent time idling about hoping against all hope the XFL would return and flourish. As such, while I broke open the grill for another fabulous outdoor season of sizzling meat by tending to a rack of baby backs, I decided to conduct an interview with one who had been in the trenches since not only this re-issue of the XFL, but has been there since the first XFL experiment.
With all the hubbub, hullabaloo or both if you prefer (after all it is your life), I completely neglected to scribble out something for the Roughneck Report, Take 5.
I mean what was I thinking about? What else could possibly be going on to thwart me from my duties as the Roughnecks numero uno fan of the fan base probably only known by me as the Rowdies?
I could have been thinking that maybe… possibly… along the lines of our esteemed federal government this whole ‘virus thing’ would blow over, cross our collective paths like an errant tumbleweed across the great American desert.
Well my friends, that was not it. Those of us who are relatively sane knew how the Administration of the Bloated Circus Peanut would stumble around like a bantamweight after a Henry Cejudo haymaker and for certain fuck this whole mess up.
Oh well, back to the report. Okay. The Roughnecks have finished the aborted season undefeated and for certain are the de facto champions for the 2020 XFL season which may possibly be the only XFL season.
Hand them the fucking trophy Vince McMahon, which I think is just his head in a fabulous bronze patina.
Congrats Roughnecks. Now you can afford to go out and find a logo that doesn’t rip-off the old Houston Oilers.
No ending cheer. Season’s over.
PS Seriously be safe out there and do not trust in the Federal Government to give two shits about you and your family, not with the bleating yam in charge.
PPS Weezer really got me pumped to whip this little old report right quickly. Thanks!
Title courtesy of Matt Drufke. And you know what? Matt can use the word ‘fucking’ because frankly you’d have to be a complete moron to think this is ‘just like the flu.’ Yes, it is not recommended one uses the words ‘moron’ or ‘fucking’ if you want to engage your reader at the beginning of your article, but for fuck’s sake this whole ‘it’s just the flu’ is sheer idiocy. Why be nice about it?
In the time we are currently living in what’s better than to take stock of what we can’t do right now in Woodstock, Illinois – dine in. But first, I must digress before we digest.
I thought I could stretch this to three parts, but then I’d have to count the McHenry County Courthouse as a place to eat. Trust me it’s not, as the vending machines suck. Plus, the McHenry County Courthouse is where I got my car keyed. You’d think the person who did it would have had enough sense not to do it in a parking lot full of cops, but no, my ex-wife did it anyway. Before you laugh at her absolute awful place to pick? Stop. She got away with it. The McHenry County Courthouse has so many cops around they don’t have cameras in the parking lot. She confessed much later to our kids and that’s the only reason I know. How special.
Thanks for allowing me to get that off my chest. Much better now.