In the wake of such a joyous victory, it’s probably no surprise that it’s taken a little longer to get a recap up. Words are simply insufficient to express the happiness with which I take every step throughout the Tri-State knowing that my beloved squad has vanquished such an annoying and petulant team from the nether regions of Douchebagistan, New Jersey.
Either that, or the Apologist offered to do the recap and then got burnt out by over-thinking it and now I am diligently picking up his fucking predictable slack.
That really was a great game. The first of its kind this year: a convincing win by the Bills; the result never really in doubt beyond half time. Sure, many fans, including a few in my living room, expected the game to fall apart when the Jets finally put a touchdown on the board, but those efforts by Gangrene, excuse me Gang_Green, were woefully insufficient compared to the kind of day Buffalo was having. Fucking unreal, totally unexpected, and still has me tingling from head to toe a day and half later.
Bullet points await!!
During the 2013 Buffalo Bills season, the Scizz will be writing weekly game previews that will ruin your entire weekend. The last two seasons saw him using quotes from The Big Lebowski and Super Troopers to convey his feelings for this crapfire of a franchise. This year he'll be choosing quotes from many of his favorite films to get the point across. As always, it's 25% football, 70% useless garbage, and 5% luchador gambling picks. Here we go.....
First and foremost, go here and buy a shirt for #SupportSally
if you haven't already. In fact, even if you have go buy another one. The support we have seen from Buffalo and the blog/twitter/facebook universe has been incredible. Keep it up. On to the foosball.
Where do you even begin with this offseason? My mood towards this team has changed so many times I can't even remember if I was excited after the draft or was certain of a 2 - 14 season. The good? The Bills are rid of the football herpes known as Chan Gailey & Buddy Nix. They hired young, motivated coaches in Doug Marrone, Nate Hackett, and Mike Pettine. They confidently reached at the draft for a future QB1 in E.J. Manuel. The bad? Potential shutdown corner Stephon Gilmore is out 6-8 weeks for an already thin CB squad, Jarius Byrd appears to hate the idea of being anywhere near Buffalo, and although E.J. Manuel appears to be healthy, the QB situation over the last couple weeks looks like something out of shitty ABC family T.V. movie.
But you know what? I'm sitting on the Yachtsman's couch in Buffalo right now, we're going to the game Sunday, and dammit all football is back. So similar to what my fictional idol Peter Venkman says in a time of fear, uncertainty, and almost certain death, "I love this team! I'm excited to be a fan! Let's do it!"
After the jump I ramble some more
I don’t know if I have ADD or I just want to get on a pedestal about a whole bunch of shit today, but I just couldn’t pick one thing to write about. So let’s make an introductory list: (1) Jerry Sullivan is a troll that eats babies. (2) I wonder what made Jerry Sullivan a troll that eats babies. (3) Props to Jeremy White and Howard Simon for not putting up with his shit this morning. (4) This Mario Williams business is intriguing and frustrating. (5) This tornado in Oklahoma is just... wow.
Ok let’s roll.
(1) Good lord, if you haven’t listened to Jerry Sullivan’s segment
on WGR this morning, it’s worth a listen - if for no other reason than to give yourself an idea of what the biggest asshole in North America sounds like. You know, just to give yourself a baseline. Let’s break down some of his quotes, on this, a day where the top story in sports is Mario Williams apparently feeling suicidal:
“I haven’t been sympathetic, one iota about this guy since he played his first game for the Bills.” Ok, so Sullivan doesn’t feel bad for a guy who’s suicidal, and hasn’t ever since he had a bad game. Nice.
Sully then went on to criticize Mario’s effort throughout the year, brushed off his double digit sacks, then disclosed (to my knowledge for the first time) that a player told him last year, off the record that he was unhappy with Mario’s effort. Next, Sullivan says “Anyway, he might have a very good year. There are indications - I heard in camp he came into camp energized! Oh boy, Mario Williams at 100 million dollars comes into camp energized”
“Go look at his injury history, it’s always something with this guy.”
Sensing a pattern here? Sullivan hasn’t even talked about the story yet - he’s just taken this occasion to rip a guy in the wake of a story THAT HE’S SUICIDAL.
“I know for me, in the text, he’s - he can’t even write a simple declarative sentence.” -achm- Unreal. Attacking grammar in a text message WITH A SENTENCE FULL OF FAULTY GRAMMAR. If I was truly anal, I’d break down what’s wrong with Sully’s sentence.
“I have written about suicide in an earlier - in an earlier life in journalism, and I know you’re supposed to always take threats seriously, but I’m having trouble with this one.” SO, I know I should be taking suicide seriously, but I kinda don't like this guy, so... naaaahhhh.
Then, one of the morning show guys mentions the column that Sullivan mentioned earlier in the segment, and he gets defensive. “You goin Ted Black on me?!” The next 5 minutes is Sullivan just lashing out at anything he can think of. He re-hashes the Ted Black press conference, and tries to paint himself the victim of Black’s aggression, when Black asked him if he wrote the column already: “that was a cheap shot on his part, and suggested he wanted a fight!”
“I laughed later. I like those vigorous exchanges because you get more out of people. … I tried it with Mario Williams after the Seattle game” So, Sullivan admits that he jumped on the guy after an embarassing loss just to get a rise out of him - and that this is a tactic he uses frequently. No, Jerry, no... you? I don’t believe what I’m hearing.
Finally, Sullivan closes out by saying “you guys, you guy - come on. I’m past 7:20, I’m not even gettin’ - I don’t even get compensated past 7:20. I don’t need that, bein - why don’t you guys talk about baseball or somethin.” So, Sullivan, a professional journalist, closes out with FIVE incomplete sentences minutes after he rips a suicidal football player for his grammar in a motherfucking text message.
As, The Barrister
tweeted this morning,
"You are a disgraceful person and journalist, @TBNSully
. May your taint be set on fire. Forever and ever, Amen."
I concur. Go to hell. You're nothing but a troll with a salary. You’re no better than the idiots that waste their lives on twitter just trying to calculate the right words to piss someone off. Actually, you’re worse, because you’ve found a way to get paid to do it. Burn taint burn.
The Wild Card LEGAL DISCLAIMER: This post contains legal jargon, legal analysis and less profanity than usual because, well, my professor will be reading it and that’s kind of weird. But I think you’ll enjoy it if you’re a bored sociopath.
On March 12, 2013 an article appeared on Deadspin
containing a recorded phone call between NFL General Managers (GMs) Buddy Nix of our very own Buffalo Bills and Mark Dominik of the not-our-own Tampa Bay Buccaneers.
Neither GM knew that their conversation was being recorded by two eager opportunistics on a third line. The content of the conversation was, at least to football obsessives like my self and yours: racy. Both GMs disclosed otherwise proprietary information, such as who was on the trade block, and how they felt about certain of their players under contract. The article garnered a degree of publicity, and a short survey of comments on the Deadspin website shows that many fans thought the same thing: that’s got to be illegal. Right?
We’ll see. But first, let’s spin a tale of intrigue, suspense and “dadgum” embarrassment.
Here’s how it happened. According to Deadspin, the “pranksters”
dialed the publicly listed phone number for the Bills’ front office and asked for Buddy Nix, claiming to be Dominik. Surprisingly enough, they were patched through and Nix answered the phone. They panicked and hung up.
Next, they concocted a little plan: they would call Dominik next and see if they couldn’t get Dominik and Nix to play an annoying game of phone tag. The devils. But while they were on the horn with Dominik’s secretary, Nix called them back! So, they used three-way calling to answer Nix’s call while they were being patched through to Dominik.
In one of our shortest CrapTastiCasts ever, we struggle for subject matter after the Sabres' first loss of the season. While you can't really say we succeeded, we showed up at least so that's something. During the more lucid moments of this particular installment from the Buffalo expat insane asylum, we talk a little about the Sabres, a little about Manti Te'o, a little about baseball, and a little about man tears. The Scizz was off his rocker for most of the evening so don't expect much by way of focus... which, incidentally you should never really expect from us anyway.
Musical content by way of Deeg house band The Jambrones, Jane's Addiction, Radical Face and Aerosmith.
Stream below, subscribe with our handy itunes button or download here
Apologist and Barrister, feat. The Continental
Oh dear.... Craft beers. Whiskey. Vanishing dignity.
You may be aware that Apologist and I recently rendez-vous'd (not a word) for the Bills game Thursday night, using the time out at the bar as a perfect opportunity to revive the little-known Legal Limit podcast franchise. You also may be aware that new-to-the-Deeg Continental - of Smarten Up! mailbag fame - joined us, making her podcast debut.
You probably wouldn't have predicted this level of shit show, though. Good good, we are terrible. Actually, really, just the Barrister. He was most definitely over the legal limit, right guys? ... I'll show myself out.
We talk Bills/Dolphins, of course, but also take potshots at Al Gore, celebrate the Knicks move to 6-0 against the Spurs, talk about how the NBA may pick up disgruntled hockey fans during the lockout, commiserate Ryan Fitzpatrick's role in Bills franchise history, laugh about blunts and guns, and then bump into some Hurricane Sandy refugee Chicago Bears fans who happen to also love the Miami Heat. I'd claim it all makes sense in the end, but it most surely does not. Luckily, I'm pretty sure it's about what you've all come to expect from this embarrassment of a website.
Musical interludes include Jefferson Airplane, Oddisee, Bob Dylan and The Beastie Boys.
Stream below, download here
, via the iTunes button below, or on our podcast page here
no chance this is the actual screenshot of that line, mind you
Ah the bye week. The time to appreciate a break from the often frustrating squad we've been saddled with for these many years, to watch football with few rooting interests, and to perhaps forget about football altogether when life takes precedence as it so often does, whether in big ways or small.
This week was certainly no different.
But now that we're back to thinking about this underachieving and tragically coached Bills team, as it matches up against a hilariously superior Houston Texans squad, it's tough to find much of anything to be positive about. Perhaps the only real reason to be excited about this game is as a welcome opportunity to step away from the enormous and ongoing impact of a crazy as shit storm. Seems a good enough reason to me.
Scizz is taking a much needed break after his hell-ish week, and I'm luckily drunk enough to think I can fill his shoes, having sucked down a few Buffalo Lagers. Those lagers, unsurprisingly, assisting me in my belief that the Bills actually have a shot to win this game, or - put more accurately - my willingness to at least latch onto the infinitesimally small shot the Bills' actually have to win and cheer with a detached relationship with rational thought.
I would describe this as the "beers equal delightful sports fantasyland" paradigm. It's a working title.
Moving on to our feature presentation...
One of the weird and awesome things about writing for this godforsaken website is that we have met some bizarre and amazing and talented people who read our site and, for some reason, think what we do here is pretty ok. Many, if not most, of these new friends have their own set of insights and, when it comes to the gentlmen contributing here today especially, very own style of contributions to the rag tag world of the Basement Brigade. These guys have already contributed to the Deeg by writing and recording our podcast's theme song, which, with the hashtag that followed, has probably helped define what we do here better than any of our hastily written, curse-laden posts have ever done. Their latest contribution, their first here not set to a rock anthem tune, is well worth the read. ~ Cheers, Barrister By @jambrones & @boner_shorts
I am a Jambrone.
I write songs about Buffalo sports.
I pump you up.
I make you nod your head.
I make you sing along.
And yes, I give you “douche chills
I get ‘em too.
Because of this rare gift, I have been relegated to the underground, where it’s dark, dirty and verbally violent. While children are singing along to the sweet melodies of my annoyingly uplifting music, I toil in the shit, the blogosphere, the underground sports media, as one of…them.
It wasn't always like this. I had a real rock band once. We played in almost every venue available for original bands in Buffalo through the 90’s. We also were able to play regularly in New York and Boston and even took a stab at a Midwest “tour”. We got to open up for big nationally known bands that everybody knew. However, we were and always will be, a “local band.”
"Who's playing tonight?" ... "Oh, just some local band"
To me, that label, “local band” is much like “blogger”, or “podcaster”, it feels the same: Subpar, subhuman, subservient, and often, subversive.
Through the Jambrones, I’ve come to realize a kinship with these fellow “CHUDs”, if you will. We share ideas about teams we love presented in a hack-like yet charming manner with no "radio voice" and little regard for journalistic tradition. And yet, we do it well enough that more than a few strangers have come forward and really like what we do.
We’re just dudes writing and talking about sports; just CHUDs...making songs, writing shit like this piece, rhyming players’ names, and ripping on Matt Ellis. It’s <gasp> fun. But ALL of us get squashed regularly by those with sports media power: The Buffalo News and WGR550.
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT IN ALL THE HATS. Well, pack it in guys, wait until hockey....no can't do that.....well the Knicks start in October.....ugh, fuck James Dolan......well there's always Liverpool....they can't score......well, the Mets start again next March!......OH WELL SHIT I'LL JUST QUIT THIS SPORTS CRAP ALTOGETHER THEN, A HOLES.
Sad Wizard and his sad, sad beard.
Say a quarterback has a stellar career at a shitty FCS school like Harvard. Then, instead of going into I-Banking and destroying our financial future, he takes his 7th Round NFL Draft selection and decides to make a go of it. He struggles for a few years, getting spot-starts in shitholes like Cincinatti & St. Louis, all via guts, determination, and guile. Throwing the ball the way he's always known how; a self-taught gunslinger. After a few years, this highly educated journeyman lands in the backwater-est of NFL backwaters, Buffalo. He fights through coaching changes, managerial changes, shitty QBs in front and back, finally proving himself to be a competent QB for a team replete with QB failure. In his first year as the bona-fide-honest-to-god-nobody-breathing-down-his-back starter, he rockets out to a 5-1 start and everyone wants to have a million of his babies. He gets injured in a blowout to the Redskins, and everything falls to shit. Weaknesses reveal themselves, games are lost, and hopes are shattered. BUT ALAS EVERYTHING IS MADE ANEW COME THE OFFSEASON, FRIENDS. This journeyman-cum-starter-sum-ostensible savior shows up to camp ready to go and meets a new QB coach. WHO THEN CHANGES EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SELF-TAUGHT GUNSLINGER BECAUSE APPARENTLY HE BROUGHT HIMSELF OUT OF THE DEPTHS OF THE FCS AND INTO A STARTING JOB IN THE NFL ALL TOTALLY WRONG. Mechanics, footwork, vision, reps, progressions....EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT NOW. Oh, but wait, you might ask....who is this brilliant man who felt the need to fundamentally change The Bearded One? Why, he must be a genius who has helped Hall of Famer and First Overall Picks alike! RIGHT YACHTSMAN?!?!!?
One of the many things I missed while I was out.
Cue the milquetoast opener:
Well gosh darnit, fans of the Deeg, I know you've been eagerly awaiting content from the Kings of Fresh Takes and like the degenerates we are, we've opted to tend to our real world lives instead of bloviating about the latest in bread and circus sports entertainment. Why the lull? Well, personally, my answer to that question has three parts: (1) it's July and I've been getting viciously hamzoed more often than I should admit (hooray anonymous internet monikers!!); (2) I've been traveling a lot over the past 10 days, aforementionedly (not a word?) drunk for 70% of it (not true... not not true either), and I've simply been too drunk and/or hungover and/or distracted to sit down for a little chat; and (3) the only bright spots in my sports world are a surging team in a still ignored league (for now) and an utterly unproven team in the best league in America (for now). Forgive me if I don't jump for joy at the prospect of dwelling on shit that makes me contemplate a swift union between my fist and Fred Wilpon's balls.
But more on those Mets in a few. I can't lead of this trainwreck with that much heartache.
Can't you tell this is going to be FUN??? I'm bored and drunk on a train and you all get the fruits of my labor!
Wait... we need music.