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...
1. J.J. Watt scares me. Not in a typical "this guy is actually at the level of a professional football player so of course he's going to make the Bills look like timid little bitches" way that I am scared of most opposing team rosters from top to bottom. No, Watt scares me in a "he may actually physically devour our linemen on his way to devouring our quarterback." Nine and a half sacks.... you have to think Watt tosses another 3-5 on that tally. I'm calling at least one on a Brad Smith drop back.
2. It bears mentioning that I wouldn't mind if Fitz got eaten during tomorrow's game. Hyperbole, of course, but there are a limited number of things that can truly motivate Bills shit for brains management to use first round picks to fill the most important position on the roster. Perhaps Fitz's death by cannibalism would do the trick. Fitz is not the guy, and he's even less the guy when he forgets to use his brain, seemingly the only asset he might possibly have. The myth of Fitzpatrick's on-field smarts has long been belied by the on-field examples of dumbfuckery. Forced interceptions, missed reads, open receivers left grasping their facemasks in frustration. Seriously, find me a better adjective than dumbfuckery for this situation and I'll eat my hat.
3. Fire Chan Gailey.
4. The Texans are going to gain over 400 yards, and that is a low estimate, really. Under the Patriots' gameplan, recently duplicated (at least if you listen to the Bills' secondary) by the Titans, the Texans can easily run roughshod over the Bills' apparently overrated defensive line. The running game will open up short passes, for sure, but don't forget about those deep routes if you get a corner one-on-one, since the Bills' corners don't really have great game speed. Of course, the Bills could easily make adjustments to potentially prevent this outcome, but we all know not to expect that at this point, right?
5. I desperately hope that I'm wrong about this. Boy, would it be fun.
I need little by way of fire-you-up music before a Bills game because I just love beer so fucking much, so these are more akin to "playlist additions of cool music I've recently stumbled upon."
Ready to Rock by Oddisee. This track fits with a recent revitalization of the socially conscious hip hop within my music collection. Called the best rap album of the year by rapper and HuffPost columnist Homeboy Sandman, you'd do well to check out People Hear What They See.
Ghostwriter by Rjd2. A product of Eugene, Oregon - right?? - Rjd2 puts together a supremely listenable beat with a smooth hook. I love this song.
Sweet Disposition by The Temper Trap. The sweetness of Dougy Mundagi's voice and the pretty pop sound make the band resemble a fair amount of bands that people love to hate, so I'd understand if this one's not your bag. But I also have a handful of Coldplay songs that I don't hate, so we might not see eye-to-eye on this particular issue of taste and whether I actually have any.
I accept that Coy isn't super random - not in the way that Scizz's choices thus far have been - but fuck Coy Wire, closer in size and skill level to Rudy Ruettiger than an NFL player. If Coy Wire was a Bill during the time of Twitter, you'd have had scores of #BERLSMAFIA tweets proclaiming his heart and determination as sufficient qualifiers to earn him a place on the roster. In a pretty big way, Wire was the embodiment of the Bills' insistence at picking up hard working players stuck in the bodies of 18 year olds. He was an undersized scrub, even compared to the undersized scrubs on the Bills' starting defense at that time. The worst of it was that, in the end, he played even smaller than he actually was, and took his fair amount of potshots towards the Bills following his departure to Atlanta. The interwebs tell me he's working for the Pac-12 Network now, so I assume he's underperforming there as we speak.
Legendary Drunken Hookup of the Week:
This week, in Scizz's absence, I'll take the reins with a story of my own for this one.
I preface this with the admission that it's not truly a hookup in the way most of you would think, and that's just the way it is.
Anyway, it was my first year in college and my college chorale was on tour down in D.C. I don't need to tell you how much of a dork I am. If you read this site, you already know that. And a perennially overweight dork at that. So when I found myself chatting with a way-out-of-my-league senior who had just been accepted into Stanford for a PhD in biology and who had a smile that made me burst into nervous giggles, you'd have thought I would've been excited enough to savor the moment. Yet, when it came time to make out and pretend the rest of the party wouldn't notice, it was only a matter of time before the beers I'd been drinking - the beers that likely made Ms. Stanford, PhD, think I was charming - took hold, causing me to abruptly fall asleep in only a few minutes
When I received the "Romanticus Interruptus" award during the Choir Tour Awards - good christ we were/are nerds - I blushed with a deep sense of shame and regret at missing the opportunity to spend more than three minutes of waking moments out kicking my coverage with this wonderful lady.
Though, to be fair, out kicking my coverage has become quite the habit. Humblebragggggggggg.
@TheScizz -- this is clearly the easiest choice I've made as part of constructing this piece. Scizz has had probably the worst week of his life, though I obviously can't speak for him, so it's no surprise that he's been quiet lately. That absence, though, makes it abundantly clear that he is one of the best and funniest voices on twitter. Call me biased, because I most surely am, but my heart soars with joy when I get to watch him eviscerate a mouth breather. It's a gorgeous art.
Worst Twitter Bills fan of the Week:
With the title "Optimistic Buffalo" above his twitter handle, this guy is a real easy target. He's been trolling pessimistic (read: reasonable) Bills fans lately, using the hashtag #NegativityNeverWins to somehow prove a subtle point about a #FootballTeamThatNeverWins. See what I did there, dip? Hashtags make points unassailable... as does underlining. It's motherfucking science. Why are most Bills fans giving up, Optimistic Buffalo, asks?... There is no answer I can find! ... I just can't fathom what to do with these dumb-as-shit people anymore. To put it in perspective, this cat has been seen retweeting that dumb cow who said Rob Johnson was as good as Jim Kelly because, well shit, neither of them won a Super Bowl. Enjoy your ignorance, assholes.
I can't even imagine that these are going to be accurate, but at least I'm not saddled with Scizz's guilt born out of unlikely accuracy with injury predictions.
Top Stat Line of the Week:
Mario Williams -- 2.5 sacks, two tipped passes, six QB pressures, and 7 tackles. This will not be accurate, but I want it to since it's likely to make Mike Schopp's fat head explode in a mess of hypocrisy and cheesesteak.
Garbage Pail Stat Line of the Week:
Ryan Fitzpatrick -- 215 yards, 1 TD, 3 INTs. This will be accurate. Kill me now.
Potential Texans Injuries of the Week:
1. Matt Schaub - sprained coccyx
2. Arian Foster - split open groin after tripping over the hole in the defensive line
3. Andre Johnson - sadness over my shitty joke about Arian Foster
Potential Bills Injuries of the Week:
1. Stevie Johnson - sprained finger stuck in facemask while throwing helmet to field in disgust
2. Chan Gailey - fired... a man can dream.
3. John Potter - herpes
I'll leave it to Scizz to recap the relative levels of drunkenness and our running tallies, but the answer this week is definitely ME.
I'm in Buffalo as we speak, I'm planning on drinking all day with friends of the Deeg, I'm going to be running on little sleep and a hangover from drinking something called "Bear Attacks" with my crazy ass friends tonight, and I'm on my first trip away from my six week old child so I'm guaranteed to drink a ton to cover up my immense levels of sadness.
None of the rest of those scrubs have a chance.
Texans 46, Bills 17. This is going to be awful.