Dear God Why Us Sports
"You are a complete embarrassment to anyone legitimately trying to blog.
You're gonna ruin it for everyone else. Keep it up." - Mike Harrington, TBN
  • Blog
  • The Deeg Podcast Industries
  • Mission Statement
  • Contributors

Greed is for amateurs. Disorder, chaos, anarchy: now that's fun! - a Very DGWU Recap of Bills v. Cardinals, Week 3

9/27/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
Homie's eyes are terrifyingly focused
The Barrister

These fucking guys.

In the sense that yesterday's game was very different from the first two exhibitions this season, yes, things have changed and hooray I guess. In the sense that the probative value of the win against Arizona is limited AF, giving us little real sense of which Bills team will show up for the next four, eight, fourteen games this year, and that the prejudicial tendencies of the game are high AF as it threatens to elicit a too-familiar and unwelcome optimism in even the most jaded sports fan, fuck this win.

This team is fucking bullshit. Winning capably a few times a year is their recipe for the bait-and-switch, and even if they don't intend to, giving us performances like Sunday's does little else than give us a glimpse of winning football, a confirmation that the Bills can manage to play winning football here and there, and Exhibit A for why we shit bricks when winning football proves elusive as it always does eventually.

Good god this team is fucking bullshit.

Harts called this in his preview, and this Week 3 win was literally the best case scenario after an OC gets canned and the team gets an unmistakable spark as it [insert cliché regarding getting back to basics and/or getting the ball to playmakers]. Part of The Apologist's piece was poking fun at that clichéd predictability of the narrative wrapped up in throwing an assistant coach or coordinator under the bus when the HC is under fire, but this time the clichés ended up being prescient, which makes sense because sometimes that happens and those times are what keeps coaches believing that token firings can help a bad team become suddenly good.

What we had yesterday really can't be viewed through a lens other than one that recognizes the likelihood that this game was a blip; a fun blip, for sure - the kind of serendipity-laden result that permits lazy and/or blissfully hopeful consumers of the sport talk of Any Given Sunday as if the NFL was all about parity and wasn't a place where nearly half of the teams have not won a title and probably won't be sniffing one any time soon - but a blip all the same.

That all said, what we had yesterday - set against the paradigm of 74% of Super Bowls being won by 28% of the NFL's teams - was enjoyable and glorious and about all we can hope for under the soon-to-be sun-scorched and/or flooded earth. Eat at Arby's.

So let's revel in the afterglow a bit, y'all. Even in the struggle to 3 to 6 wins, a few Sundays will feel damn good.


Read More
0 Comments

"There's what's right and there's what's right and never the twain shall meet." - Week 3 - The Cardinals of Arizona

9/24/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
I like to set the tone early.
The Apologist

How is it that this team still looks flabbergasted to be trailing late in a football game? Seriously now. How is it that in the 16 years since the Bills played football in January that no offensive coordinator has had a specific plan laid out for “what to do in case of trailing by a touchdown”? Are we not considering this possibility? Do the Bills opt not to run through the two minute drill because they think they’ll definitely be leading when they reach the last minutes of the 4th quarter?

I’m not kidding. How can we possibly not be ready for this scenario? Last Thursday, with the clock winding down and the Bills down by one score, what did we see? Shot after shot after shot of Tyrod Taylor staring at the sidelines with his hands in the air, clearly unable to grasp what it was that Greg Roman wanted him to do next. Did we think there was no way we’d be trailing the Jets by the end of that game? Did we take any plays with the words “no-huddle” on them and set them on fire? ANSWER ME!!!

Alright… alright… I’ll be fine.

Thanks to all of these questions and more, I’ve reached the acceptance level of grief over the firing of Greg Roman. I have not, nor will I ever, watch film or scour through player quotes to get to the bottom of this, because it’s pointless. That’s what ESPN is for. Also, none of that ever really tells you anything. Would anyone like to look at old footage of Belichick coaching the Browns and see if there are any correlations to what he’s doing now? I didn’t think so.

Of course, I am in no way trying to compare Belichick and Roman. All I mean is every time a coach is fired, we rarely ever find out what the true cause was and it's always difficult to say who was really at fault. What we do know is that magically a bevy of stories will emerge about how people didn’t get along with them or their playcalling was too complex or they were simply in over their head. It doesn't matter if it's the coordinator, the head coach, or the ball-boy. Whatever the reason, everyone still left on the team will point at the guy walking out the door and say in unison, "There goes the source of all our troubles."

Coordinators, specifically, are always fired because their gameplans were too complex. And the person who is replacing them is going to get “back to basics.” Always. Whenever a new plan is installed, midseason, it’s about simplifying things. To be fair, it would sound ridiculous if Lynn had come in and said, “These guys better get ready for some homework because I’m adding 50 new plays to our playbook.” But you’re definitely gonna hear a lot of quotes like, “We just need to get back to having fun” and “Coach (Insert name of guy who’s probably going to get fired soon too) is just letting us go out there and do what we do!” This, of course, is total horseshit. If you’re lucky, you get a boost for a game or two, but it never lasts. Remember when Dan Campbell was maybe the guy to turn the Dolphins around? Exactly.

Messing with coordinators has become the easiest knee-jerk reaction for head coaches or general managers when the spotlight is getting its hottest. I’ve lost track of how many times Mike McCarthy has relinquished and retaken the job of play-calling for the Packers. And somehow people like me still fall for it. Oh yes, dear reader, I say all this, but my optimism has not left me completely. Within two days of finding out Roman was gone, I was on the phone with my Dad saying things like, “I meeeeean, if Lynn can get the running game going again and take some of the pressure off Tyrod…” I’m hopelessly hopeful. Let’s do this.
​

Read More
0 Comments

I feel like a little worm on a big fucking hook: a quasi-moratorium on these Bills

9/20/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
The Barrister

Not that you deserve any excuses, but here are some that each partially explain is letting the home opener go with little mention here.

First, the less obvious... I worked a 12 hour day on Friday, plus caught Liverpool's away match to Chelsea at the newly minted 'The Team,' Carragher's new little brother situated next door on West 39th. Between the work hours and the elation at a sports team winning an improbable game away from home against recent champions and likely title contenders, gearing up to write about the Bills' loss to the confusing and unironically shit Jets was a non-starter. A busy weekend of varied personal and familial tasks kicked the can further down the road.

Second, the obvious. Yes, they were bad. Yes, the idea of heaping on scorn was both appealing and nevertheless unsavory after waking up to Buffalo twitter's commendable implosion. All true things. All reason enough to take a few days off, but not the whole story.

Third, the practical. This team became impossible to write about in a compelling way for a few days. Not for everyone, obviously; I didn't but read a smattering of the takes on the loss and everything that came thereafter, but it was clear that at least some of those takes were worth writing and having other people read. Slam dunk subject matter of a completely indefensible pro sports franchise, for sure. But not for me, I guess. 

Partially because I wasn't interested in bringing a tired perspective to the table (though I'm good with doing that now), partially because I knew the people that read us here do so out of a voracious appetite for #content, meaning they will already have read others with actual circulation give a serving of fair takes reflecting the altogether consistent hatred of this fucking football team among the fan base and local media, and partially because suddenly the landscape of the Bills kept changing over the course of the 3rd quarter and then on through the rest of the weekend, I let it lie for a few days. It was hard to gear up with a well-balanced take when it seemed likely it would be mooted by some forthcoming report we'd inevitably be given a few hours later. 

Ok, so there's the background, and it's that last point I want to take up for a little two-step.

I watched the second half of last week's game on DVR at 1 o'clock Friday morning. My body gave out around 10 Thursday night, during halftime, and I went to take a "nap," waking up diligently to finish the game in about 30 minutes. For all intents and purposes, I'm sitting right in the beginning laps of middle age, and maybe I need a Red Bull or five to stay up late and pound beers like I am wont to do, but I can rally with the best of them. Even for a football team I love to hate and hate to love. 

At first, it was gravy. Man, the start of that second half was fun as balls. These motherfuckers had me scribbling notes about the good things I was seeing - Sammy drawing coverage away from secondary targets; Tyrod making it work despite his weaknesses and the play-calling ruts; the way the defense was attacking the ball; Tyrod calming the bench down after his TD to Salas, like he knew there was a lot of work still to do (there was); Sammy getting hyped as hell for his fellow receivers; the kickoff coverage; Leodis and his fumble recovery. There was a lot to bemoan about the first half (which I watched on mute hashtag marriage hashtag billing hours) - failing to make Fitz pay for early mistakes, weak play calling (again), and curiously poor coverage in the secondary, for starters - but for a little while in the 3rd quarter the team had me drawn back in. I was exhausted and parts of my brain were probably still asleep and accordingly much of my memory of how everything went down is unreliable, but I found myself sitting there all "man Hartman was right, this team can be fun and that's good."

Haha, what an asshole that guy is.

Nearly as quickly as the bug of "shit are they really going to win this, fucking awesome" got caught, the Bills scorched the hope with a glazed malaise of prototypical Buffalo Football and all momentum fizzled with a muted squelch. A quick useless drive after Robey-Coleman scampered into the endzone with the kind of purpose that fuels the legs of a middling roleplayer, forfeiting the team's best (only?) opportunity at solidifying a two possession game; cornerbacks asked to do too much while being far too gassed by the abbreviated time that the offense possessed the ball; a pretty bad team's dream playing out through the Jets' night; a similarly bad but persistently worse team facing a reality we'd been assured would not come.

Even for those of us who never really bought what Rex has been selling, the clarity of the failure was shocking. 


With the tech assist from my DVR, this failed denouement lasted no more than 12 minutes of real time. Though my tired eyes had a hard time comprehending the new depths of garbage that this team insists on wading into, it's ultimately nothing more than an inevitable shoe drop these days.

And now, the Tuesday after, the shoes haven't really stopped dropping. Maybe that's the only positive to find in the landscape of this moment: at the very least, the club's near-instant reaction to the pair of spectacularly Bills losses confirms that what we watched was, yes, really bad; so bad that the organization's track record of artful PR and head-in-sand management was no match for the clarity of this recent run of Suck.

Of course that positive has its limits, and the last four and a half days have seen the local sport punditry try to make sense of the doubly fucked scenario, asking "why is this team so shit?" and "even if the club recognizes that it's shit, are the people in charge equipped to right the shit?" This second question arguably deserves to be first, and it's probably an easier question to answer: Nope. No evidence that anyone - from top to bottom, from Terry and Kim to Russ "Burns When He Pees" Brandon to Doug to Rex to Rob to the entire coaching staff to the trainers and the room full of jamokes just waiting to throw someone under the bus - has any real competency in the area of making this a good football team. Roman was by no means the top of anyone's list of most culpable, and so long as his remains the only head to have been severed against the chopping block, his firing will remain a move nakedly futile on its own. 

When the ship is sinking and remains so in perpetuity, everyone is accountable and no one accountable.

Maybe that changes soon, and again, that's the optimistic angle if you want one: someone pretty high in the ranks got kicked to the curb, meaning the Pegulas do not like owning and watching a shit Bills team. And, frankly, that's no small thing when compared to the Odious Taint ownership that we lived with for so long. Even so, it's just not enough. Now that the prism of our consumption of this team isn't bound to the fear of it leaving Western New York, now that #OneBuffalo has been branded onto our subconscious and that prism of fear replaced with a marketed commitment to success and community through this team, it's right to expect more from the Pegulas. If these teams of ours are going to claim to reflect the best of us as a community of neighbors and friends and sports fans, it's right to look at Roman's firing and exclaim "great, good, what's next?"

All the same, it's exhausting as hell to be at the familiar crossroads where the best we can hope for is a quick road to abject failure, draft picks and yet another One Bills Drive reboot, each more pathetically distant from that 90s small screen magic as the last. No amount of optimism or #OneBuffalo corporate circle-jerking can cure that in the short term, with the best case scenarios hitting pay dirt some years down the line.

The sooner the Pegulas wash their hands of all the terribly milquetoast football management talent in their employ, the better. So, what's next? 
0 Comments

"There are energies aligning against you." - A Very DGWU Recap of Bills at Ravens, Week 1

9/12/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
The Barrister, who isn't spending much time on this today

I despise being right. Particularly so when the manner in which I was right was the result of (a) self-protective pessimism (that shit actually does work no matter what Apologist says; PSA that he's a delightful idiot), and (b) everything that was supposed to be good about the godforsaken syrup-less pancakes of a Bills team was actually bad whilst the things that were supposed to be bad were actually completely decent. 

Losing a game like yesterday's - a game that was completely within reach due to a pretty poor opponent on the other side of the ball - is a thing that this particular football club does very well. Not just the football club owned by the Pegulas; the club in the midst of some big PR effort to convince the fans that the sale of the team acted as some sort of metaphysical squeegee, wiping the grime of the playoff drought from our collective dashboard; the club, that we're told, was resetting the Drought Clock to zero when Terry and Kim assumed full control, that made splashes with coaching hires and shake ups and all of it. Losing a game like they lost yesterday is quintessentially Bills, hearkening back to Gregggggg Williams and Jauron and Gailey and Marrone and, yes, everything we know about Rex Fucking Ryan. All the highly polished viral videos and memes and stellar tweets and hope and whatever else this team is selling cannot change the fact that the Buffalo Bills traveled to Baltimore and laid the same kind of turd they've been laying under every coach, every GM, and both owners since I was in college and drinking a volume of alcohol that ensured I wouldn't notice for a few years.

Make no mistake about it: the loss yesterday, the way they lost yesterday, puts a lie to everything we've been told for the last few months and, yes, since the Pegulas took over. 

Does that sound harsh? Good. 

Engendering hope among a fanbase is certainly part of the job of running a football team, and when you're looking at a 16 year shit sandwich that isn't even old enough to have watched MTV when it was still pretty ok, there's a portion of that hope-farming that will always be a risk. Talking meekly about your chances doesn't help put butts in the seats, and talking big about your chances risks that those seats will be chock-full of butts and assholes screaming for your head when that big talk blows up in your face. 

The Bills don't owe us anything, in any event. Their promises of wins and success and progress didn't form some sacred contract no matter how much we'd like to take their chump asses to court and air out the putrid crotch rot of their failures. That's not how this works, nor should it be. Thing is, neither do we owe them - not Rex not Sammy not Roman not Tyrod not Shady not Terry not Kim and certainly not Russ "Burns When He Pees" Brandon - the kind of allegiances that would be required to look at a game like yesterday and declare "it's just the first game, they have time to turn it around." It doesn't matter that the team is likable, it doesn't matter that there is talent arguably waiting to be uncorked and powerbombed onto the NFL. I mean, God bless you if that's where your head it at; I'm incredibly jealous and interested in the xanax you've been pilfering from [insert personal relationship here].

Of course they have time to turn it around. And of course I have a shot at sitting on the Supreme Court later in my career. Possibilities are just that, and they're not doing it for me anymore. I'm simply not there. "It's just the first game" implicitly disregards what this team has specifically shown us, both yesterday and myriad times prior, and from an outsider's perspective there's just no evidence that this particular club - these players, these coaches, these executives and managers - have the stuff to fix what ails it. 

Could I be wrong? Sure. Absolutely. I'd be thrilled if I turn out to be a ball of acid reflux and hyperbole (both true) that doesn't know shit about shit (likely true). I'd be thrilled to look back at this pessimism and laugh at how silly it all was because just around the corner was the Big Turnaround that we were all promised. Things change, and I'm only seeing the surface of the product; if this was just a bad game on the road to a winning season, great, sangrias for everyone. I'm the guy the kept forgetting the game was still happening every time I got up from my laptop to snag another beer and inevitably started chatting with the horde of Giants fans in my buddy's backyard; I have no claim to a higher plane of understanding on this, though if you need to discuss comparative religion or financial markets while watching me roll a cigarette, I got you. 

But, after watching the Bills' final drive, positioned to snatch a win against a Ravens team that had basically been a rotting drainpipe on offense for the entire game, only to see them fizzle in the exact same way as every team that's come before them? We really buying their hope this week? Get the fuck out of here. Sure, they'll snag some impressive wins and they might even do it soon. That's what they do in between shooting themselves in the foot for the millionth time. This team once again, directly and with blessed immediacy, made it impossible to view them through any lens than the same one we started using sometime between Music City and Sammy's drop. At a certain point this club has to stop simply restarting the Effort Train with moves that have amounted to little else than shuffling the chairs on the deck of the Titanic, only way sadder. At a certain point, who the fuck knows when, someone at this club has to make themselves accountable for the kinds of games like yesterday; games that reveal scant character among the players and the coaches, and leave fans marveling at the disconnect between ambition and production out of One Bills Drive. 

Games that all the PR in the world can't wipe clean. 
​
0 Comments

“Quoth the Raven… / Eat my shorts.” - Week 1 - The Ravens of Baltimore \\ Plus - The Return of the LEGAL LIMIT

9/10/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
The Apologist

Football is back. Have we mentioned that yet here at DGWUS? We’re rather excited. The slowest segment of the sports year is over and football is back to bludgeon us into submission. And if last Thursday night’s opening salvo was any indicator, this year could get ugly real fast. Both the Barrister and I have already told you how we feel about this coming football season as a whole, but now it’s time to dig in and focus on our opening opponent, the Baltimore Ravens.

Last year was a rough one for the Ravens. They only won 5 games, they started four different QBs, their running back lost half his season to a gruesome broken arm, Suggs was out, and, well, NO ONE felt sorry for them because Ray Rice. That was only two seasons ago. You’re not off the hook yet for employing that guy. Also, you won a Super Bowl like 3 years ago and missed the playoffs for only the 2nd time since 2008. Zero sympathy from this side of the aisle.

But really not much has changed in the city by Chesapeake Bay. John Harbaugh is still mad about everything. The only receiver you recognize is still Steve Smith. Ray Lewis still gets to judge people’s life choices because he has two Super Bowl rings and he used to dance when he came out of the tunnel. We’re still discussing the “eliteness” of Joe Flacco every. single. year. because God forbid we just say, “He’s the Eli Manning of the DC Metro area” and stop caring about him. (Seriously. He’s 31, he’s been in the league since 2008, and people still treat him like he’s a project they’ve had stashed on the sidelines. He’s just a guy who plays quarterback pretty well. End of debate.) Oh! And all of their success over the last 20 years still should belong to Cleveland. So, you know… Baltimore.

I’m sure the Bills are eager to end all the offseason chatter and get the game started. There has been plenty of speculation this offseason about the personnel and coaching decisions they’ve made. Was it a mistake to bring in Rob Ryan? Can Tyrod Taylor take “the next step™”? Is this the year Sammy Watkins becomes a household name? Will Reggie Bush be a difference maker? How much are we going to miss Mario Williams? Aren’t you getting tired of all these questions?

Let's do this.
​

Read More
0 Comments

"Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things." - An Optimistic Approach for the 2016-17 Buffalo Bills

9/8/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
Harry Scull Jr./Buffalo News
The Apologist

Football is hard. Absurdly hard. Hard to watch, hard to play, and hard to justify. It's become easier for people to explain why they're not getting their kids vaccinated than why they continue watching football. St. Louis is still paying off the debt on their now unoccupied football stadium. Every team only just figured out they should stop paying Greg Hardy to play football (but apparently the Pats should kick the tires on Ray Rice ... good God, Lupica). Teddy Bridgewater's career might have ended while pretending to play. And if his career is over, he'd be considered LUCKY by most NFL retirees' standards. Calvin Johnson just quit at the peak of his powers because of course he did. But it’s become like complaining about your taxes. Yours are too high? Join the club. Pay ‘em and move along, you’re holding up the line. The NFL is everything that's wrong with humanity and capitalism? Sure, but you're still gonna keep watching.

So all existential crises aside, the hard part of football I'm here to discuss is winning and, more importantly, it's correlation to our enjoyment of the game. For better or worse, that's what makes all the other parts of football tolerable. Calvin Johnson might still be playing football if the Lions weren't, well, you know... the Lions. But as fans, complaining about wins, or the lack thereof, has become a competitive sport in its own right. Who has more to complain about? 31 teams end every season disappointed. Yeah, sure, but look at THIS bullshit team I have to deal with. Hell, even the people who cover the league are creating storylines to complain about.

​Simple math says the teams we root for are more likely to fail at their ultimate goal than succeed. But who REALLY has it worse? Is it worse to be at the bottom of the barrel looking up? Is it worse to float in middling mediocrity, missing out equally on big draft picks and big moments? Or is it truly worse to come this close to your goal only to have it ripped away from you?
I've been asking myself this because, from my vantage point, ​Bills fandom has reached a particularly masochistic level this offseason. My friends have been competing to see who can expect less from this team than the other. A recent text exchange raised the question of what their record would be this season and I was the only person who thought they would win more games than they would lose and it wasn't even close (the "best" prediciton was 7-9). This might seem like an obvious, understandable sentiment to some people, but it really got me thinking. It feels like enjoying the game and not enjoying the game are on equal footing now. And to be fair, watching the Patriots so you can talk shit about Tom Brady does sound like more fun than watching whatever it is the Tennessee Titans are going to try and accomplish this year. Particularly when it comes to your own allegiances, I understand where this instinct comes from. If you think you’re going to be let down, why not lower your expectations as far as possible so that the let-down is more tolerable?

The problem is that this hypothesis has been proven false again and again and again. We can tell ourselves all we want that they’re going to lose this Sunday, but if they jump out early and take a lead into halftime, we will get excited. We will have hope. We will also have that knot in our stomach, but that’s the whole point. That’s why we watch. As soon as I stop feeling things during these games, I’m not sure why I’d watch them anymore. If all I wanted to do was have a logical, measured experience of football, I’d drop all allegiances and tune into whatever game is being called by Joe Buck. Sad!

So if I’m gonna have my heart ripped out and my mind turned into a scene from Falling Down, then I’m gonna go into it with the best of intentions. Or to use a different hacky reference, if we’re all going to wind up in the Pit of Despair, then damnit, I’m gonna expect the best on my way down.

I mean, this IS supposed to be fun right?! For fucks’ sake, remember when we weren’t going to have a team at all anymore?!?  By the grace of God, fracking, and Terry Pegula, the Rams are in LA and the Bills are talking about a downtown stadium. But like a real one this time. Our team was saved, but somehow our doomsday expectations stayed six and a half feet under. I’m not saying everyone should be expecting a record over .500 like I am, but where is the proof that we’re one of the worst teams in the league? Seventeen teams finished last season with worse records than ours. One of the ones who finished above us, our divisional rivals the LOLJets, spent the entire offseason trying to convince others that they had convinced themselves that they could do better than Ryan Fitzpatrick. Hell, the Super Bowl champions TRADED for Mark Sanchez. (Seriously, how many teams would cut their quarterback in a heartbeat to get their hands on Tyrod Taylor? If the Eagles were able to get a first round pick for Sam Bradford, a quarterback whose ceiling we’re all painfully aware of, what could the Bills have gotten in exchange?) Somehow Raiders fans have more faith than we do! For the life of me, I can’t understand it.

I know it’s a somewhat weak argument to make: Being optimistic is more fun. But that’s how I feel. If you want to wallow in self-pity and disappointment, don’t let me stop you. In fact, maybe stop reading right now, because it only gets sunnier from here. Translation: DON’T RAIN ON MY PARADE, GOD DAMNIT! THE BILLS ARE BACK AND I’LL FUCKIN' SHOUT IF I WANT TO!

Read More
0 Comments

“Abashed the Devil stood and felt how awful goodness is” – A Pessimist's Primer for the 2016 Bills

9/7/2016

0 Comments

 
The Barrister​
Picture
(NB: Apologist will follow this with something more upbeat for the "has yet to succumb to crippling angst over their preferred sports teams yet" crowd, so feel free to skip this, but in the meantime it's time to flex some muscles and get a little stretch in. It’s been a while. Clear eyes, full hearts, can definitely lose it's actually likely.)

At a certain point after I left New York City to inexplicably put down some roots in the Garden State, after I decided to scale my day-to-day to a new place and new routine, new people and new options, I started thinking a lot about the legacy that our interests and priorities leave with us. This is often little more than self-indulgent introspection, for sure, but when you have some extra commuting time on your hands and most of that is sitting down on a regional train service that makes the NYC subway look like a frenetic cattle car complete with all the physio-fecal smells you come to expect, it's not the worst thing to make an effort to use the time to your advantage. It’s a pretty dumb habit in a lot of ways, most notably because I’m liable to get hung up on certain problems or anxieties at inappropriate times, including times when I'm by no means alone, which makes the whole exercise self-defeating sometimes. 

By way of example - which is not needed to illustrate the point but since when is necessity a prerequisite? - this past weekend I went to a small wedding with some old friends and as I navigated the evening with my too-good-for-me wife, the pitfalls for an extroverted over-sharer like myself were everywhere. By the time the after-party kicked into gear, my BAC checking in at a respectable clip and my six foot two inch frame questioning its close relationship with me given my inability to sit still during a Bruno Mars song, I was in a really good place. And when I say good, I obviously mean that I was telling way too many stories about shenanigans both past and present, talking about work way too much and making new best friends that I most surely will never see again.  As my too-good-for-me wife is bound to remind me, frequently, people don’t really care about my shit. The friend of the bride did not love me hijacking a conversation to talk about markets and self-interested fucks who ruin our economy, but that’s where my head was at after the handful of Finger Lakes Rieslings, I was having a moment and needed to work through it, and also I totally apologized later and we ended up having a hilarious night and homegirl is on that list of great humans and new best friends that I will definitely forget to keep in touch with. 

To put it a different way, introspection is not really a team sport, by its nature, but man do I like to triage my bullshit out in plain view. I totally get that people aren’t necessarily on board, especially when they’ve known me for all of twenty minutes, it’s just that I don’t really care.
You shouldn't smoke these. They'll kill you
In the midst of these indulgent bullshit problems I let consume me as I seek a less arduous, more interesting way to get through each day without feeling some vaguely defined weight on my shoulders, constructed by a job that delightfully lays waste to my health and well-being and a home I feel like is being held together by duct tape and hasty prayers to no one in particular, the decisions about how to cut through that bullshit to prioritize the to-do list I have on my plate become a matter of imperatives.

Me? I like to put down markers in my memory, emphasizing what’s important and what experiences get earmarked for consideration at some later date. It’s entirely hokey to discuss, yet nevertheless plainly true for me that life is far easier to manage when you place markers into the dirt along your personal timeline and attempt to categorize information in some useful way. Whether laid down in hindsight or in real time, those notches in our history provide a point of reference within the series of stored memories, making it easier to look back and make sense of the progression of time; easier to lean forward with some degree of well-defined perspective on how our past is prologue.  

​So, I suppose, we choose what matters to us and we likewise choose to put down those markers to help us make sense of those valued portions of our life. We power rank the fuck out of our varied interests and dreams and the varied people and places and institutions we consider our own, and in the end we sort the information into buckets and probably power rank the buckets as well. In the first one you get all the non-negotiables, the stuff you can’t live without, and in the last bucket are the frivolities and dreams and luxuries, and somewhere in between is where the shit gets really complicated.

A bunch of nonsense, non-formative moments can be swept under the rug of our subconscious: the time you chatted up someone at a bar out of boredom; the passing moment on a dance floor during yet another wedding reception of yet another friend/cousin/sibling/child; the 18th time you watched a team you love play a milquetoast field-goal-riddled game against some milquetoast squad from some (as it turns out) usefully pathetic city.

A career, a friendship, a love affair, a family? Your list will be different than mine, but when we rank our priorities, when we decide to carve out space in our journey (or not) for those things and let them impact our days in the short-term (or not), the way we sort through our experiences and internalize a memory or a feeling takes on varying degrees of importance. We remember names of family members and concepts necessary for our jobs and how our spouse smelled the first time our kid fell asleep with us on the couch; we probably don’t remember the name of the guy we bump into sometimes on the train, or the way a friend we see twice a year takes her coffee.

And then we have football.

(And yes, I’m aware that I overthink things. If you’re new here, a hearty welp to you. Welcome to the Jungle, we’ve got fun and games and our teams are basically gout.  If you’re not new here, settle the fuck down, and yes that means you Joe Buffalo Wins. I’m sure you have some amazing tweets to ping me with soon, bud, and I’m sure they’ll be really well-phrased.)

Read More
0 Comments

    RSS Feed

    Follow DGWUSports on Twitter

    Recent Posts

    "I guess we have ourselves a reckoning." - Bills vs. Steelers Preview, Week 14

    "I got a nose for white supremacy, and he smells like bleach." Monday Night Football is back, folks.


    Dear God Why Us? In this Economy?

    DGWU Sports #CrapTastiCast Episode 49

    Us

    The Apologist
    @SamiquaLrhubarB

    The Barrister

    The Outlander
    @MattyRenn

    The Commander
    @essbeeay

    DEEG EMERITUS:

    The Yachtsman
    @Y_vo

    Guest Contributors


    And Them

    Black & Blue & Gold
    Buffalo Sabres Nation
    Die By The Blade
    Buffalo Wins
    Nick Mendola
    The Goose's Roost
    Bills Daily
    Sabres Prospects
    Shutdown Pair
    Sal Sports

    Email us!


    Past Drivel

    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    January 2020
    August 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    August 2018
    April 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    March 2017
    October 2016
    September 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    February 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    August 2012
    July 2012
    June 2012
    May 2012
    April 2012
    March 2012
    February 2012
    January 2012
    December 2011
    November 2011
    October 2011
    September 2011
    August 2011
    July 2011
    June 2011
    May 2011
    April 2011
    March 2011
    February 2011
    April 2010
    October 2009
    September 2009
    August 2009
    July 2009
    June 2009
    May 2009
    April 2009


    Tags

    All
    2012 Stanley Cup Playoffs
    Aaron Hernandez
    Aaron Williams
    Adventures In Douchebaggery
    Amar'e Stoudemire
    Analytics
    Andre Reed
    Apostles Of Bob
    Arizona Cardinals
    Arsenal FC
    Arsene Wenger
    Assbaggery
    Auto Racing
    Bad Idea Night
    Baltimore Orioles
    Baltimore Ravens
    Baseball
    Basketball
    Beards
    #becauseitsbuffalo
    Beer
    Big Lebowski
    Bigots
    Big Thoughts
    Bills Mafia
    Bills Previews
    Black Sabbath
    Blue Collar
    Boat Shoes
    Boner_Shorts
    Boobie Dixon
    Booze
    Boston Bruins
    Boston Celtics
    Boston Red Sox
    Boston Sucks
    Brian Moorman
    BroneCast
    Bucky Gleason
    Buddy Nix
    Buffalo Bills
    Buffalo For Real
    Buffalo Sabres
    BuffaloWins
    Buffao Sabres
    Canada Sucks
    Carmelo Anthony
    Cats
    CFL
    Chan Gailey
    Chelsea FC
    Chelsea Licks Taint
    Chicago Blackhawks
    Chicago Cubs
    Chris Hairston
    Christian Ehrhoff
    Christmas
    Circling The Wagons
    Citi Field
    C.J. Spiller
    CK Anal
    Clint Dempsey
    Clownpenis.fart
    CM Punk
    Cody Hodgson
    Cody Mccormick
    Colin Kaepernick
    College Basketball
    College Football
    Cordy Glenn
    Craig Schaller
    CrapTastiCast
    Criminallyvu1ga
    Daft Punk
    Dallas Cowboys
    Daniel Briere
    Daniel Murphy
    Daniel Sturridge
    Dan Snyder
    Dan Wheldon
    Darcy Regier
    David Wright
    Dax McCarty
    Defensemen
    De La Soul
    Derek Roy Sucks
    Detroit Sucks
    DGWU Crew
    DGWU Legal Bureau
    Dick Jauron
    Dominik Hasek
    Donald Sterling
    Donald Trump
    Don Cherry
    Doug Flutie
    Doug Marrone
    Doug Whaley
    DRAFT GOOD!
    Drew Stafford
    Drugs
    Drunk
    E.J. Manuel
    El Greasico
    Emeritus My Balls
    Epic Fail
    Epic Meltdowns
    Epic Rants
    EPL
    Eric Wood
    Examples Of Awful Journalism
    Expats
    Faceless Internet Potshots
    FA Cup
    Fandom
    Fantasy Football
    F.C. Buffalo
    FJM
    Football
    Former Bills
    Former Knicks
    Former Sabres
    Fred Jackson
    Fred Wilpon
    Free Agency
    French Revolution
    Fuck ESPN
    Game Previews
    Game Recaps
    Gangs Are For Pussies
    Gary Bettman
    Gold Cup
    Golf
    Greg Roman
    Guest Contributors
    Hall Of Fame
    Happiness
    Hard Work
    Haterade
    High Character!
    Hillsborough
    Hockey
    Hockey Hall Of Fame
    Hulk Hogan
    Hungover
    IIHF World Championships
    Ike Davis
    Indignation
    Infinite Sadness
    Jack Eichel
    Jairus Byrd
    @jambrones
    James Dolan
    Jason Pominville
    Jeremy White
    Jerry Jones
    Jerry Sullivan
    Jhonas Enroth
    Jim Boeheim
    Jochen Hecht
    Joe Pinz1
    Johan Santana
    Johnny White
    John Scott
    Jon Vogl
    Jordan Leopold
    Jose Reyes
    Josh Beckett
    Jurgen Klopp
    Justin Rogers
    Kawika Mitchell
    Kelly's NYC
    Kelvin Sheppard
    Kevin Durant
    Kevin Youkilis
    Khal Drogo
    Kim Martin
    Kim Pegula
    King Kenny
    Kirk Nieuwenhuis
    Kobe Bryant
    Kraig Urbik
    Kyle Orton
    Kyle Williams
    L.A. Lakers
    Larry Quinn
    Lebron James
    Lee Evans
    Legumes On Your Penis
    Lenny Palumbo
    Leodis McKelvin
    LeSean McCoy
    Lindy Ruff
    Links
    Liveblog
    Liverpool FC
    Long Island
    Los Angeles Kings
    Luis Suarez
    Luke Adam
    Lunchpail
    Mailbag
    Manchester City
    Manchester Fc
    Manchester United
    Maple Leafs
    Marcell Dareus
    Marcus Easley
    Marcus Foligno
    Marcus Stroud
    Mario Williams
    Marshawn Lynch
    Martin Skrtel
    Marv Levy
    Matt Ellis
    Matthew Barnaby
    Matt Moulson
    McFadden's NYC
    Mean
    @Mechaphil
    Media Access
    Media Hit Jobs
    Megsie
    Memories
    Messi
    Metal
    Metallica
    Mets
    Miami Dolphins
    Miami Heat
    Michael Jasper
    Michael Jordan
    Michael Phelps
    Michael Vick
    Michael Vick Is A Fuck
    Mike D'Antoni
    Mike Grier
    Mike Harrington
    Mike Richards Is A Loser
    Mike Schopp
    Mikhail Grigorenko
    Miller
    MLB
    MLS
    Monday Night Football
    Mondee
    Montreal Canadiens
    Moon Bills
    Morality In Sport
    Motorsports
    Mouth Breathers
    Movie Trailers
    Moxy Früvous
    Murderers
    NASCAR
    Nathan Gerbe
    NBA
    Nba Draft
    Near Death Experiences
    Nerd Alert
    New England Patriots
    New Jersey Devils
    New York
    New York City
    New York Islanders
    New York Jets
    New York Knicks
    New York Mets
    New York Rangers
    New York Red Bulls
    New York Yankees
    NFL
    NFL Draft
    Nfl Free Agency
    Nfl Lockout
    NFLPA
    NHL
    Nhl Draft
    Nhl Free Agency
    Nhl Lockout
    NHL Playoffs
    Niagara Falls Reporter
    Nick Mendola
    No Limit Soldiers
    NSFW
    Nwo
    NYCBBB
    Nyc Sabre Summit
    Ny Red Bulls
    Oakland Raiders
    Occupy Nassau
    Offseason
    Oklahoma City Thunder
    Olympic Hockey
    Olympic Soccer
    #OneBuffalo
    Open Bar
    Optimism
    Overtime
    Ozzie Guillen
    Ozzy
    Parenthood
    Party Bus
    Pat Lafontaine
    Patrick Kaleta
    Patrick Kane
    Patriots
    Pat Williams
    Paul Gaustad
    Paul Hamilton
    Paul Posluszny
    Philadelphia Flyers
    Phillipe Coutinho
    Pink Elephant
    Pittsburgh Penguins
    Playoff Hockey
    Playoff Hunt 2011
    Playoffs
    Podacst
    Podcast
    Podcasts
    Post Game Reflections
    Post Game Reflections With The Yachtsman
    Post-Game Reflections With The Yachtsman
    Poz
    Pre Game Panicking
    Premiere League
    Premier League
    Premiership
    Press Conferences
    Pretentiousism
    Professional Wrestling
    Pro Football Hall Of Fame
    Pro Wrestling
    Pussies On Skates
    Qb Suckitude
    Rabbi Darkside
    Racing
    Racism
    Racist Assholes
    R.A. Dickey
    Ra Dickey
    Rafael Benitez
    Raffi Torres
    Rage Against The Machine
    Rage Storms
    Ralph Wilson Jr
    Ramblings
    Rants
    Rare Moments Of Lucidity
    Ray Lewis
    Realignment
    Recaps
    Rednecks
    Reggie Corner
    Rex Ryan
    Rian Lindell
    Roadcast
    Roadcasts
    Roadtrips
    Robert Goulet
    Rob Johnson
    Rob Ray
    Rob Van Dam
    Robyn Regehr
    Rochester Amercks
    Roger Goodell
    Ron Rolston
    Roscoe Parrish
    Running Diaries
    Russ Brandon
    Ryan Fitzpatrick
    Ryan Meanra
    Ryan Miller
    Ryan Nassib
    Sabres
    Sabres Alumni
    Sabres Crunk Mix
    Sabres Development Camp
    Sabre Summit
    Sadness
    Saint Bonaventure
    Sally Ride
    Sammy Watkins
    San Antonio Spurs
    Sanctimonious Shit Sandwich
    San Francisco 49ers
    Scizzette
    Scizz Gets Hard
    Scott Chandler
    September 11th
    Shady
    Shanabans7f1abf80bf
    Shaun Powell
    Shaving Buttholes
    Shawne Merriman
    Shawn Merriman
    Shit Sammies
    Sidney Crosby
    Signings
    Site Update
    Smarten Up
    Snowman Erections
    Soccer
    Spencer Johnson
    Standards Of Decency
    Stan Fischler
    Stanley Cup
    Starlin Castro
    Stephon Gilmore
    Steven Gerrard
    Steve Ott
    Stevie Johnson
    Stoke City FC
    Streetcast
    Strippers
    Subway Series
    Suck It Ref
    Summer Lovin
    Summer Movie
    Summer Movie Preview
    Summer Olympics
    Super Punters
    Super Troopers
    #SupportSally
    Swedes
    Swimming
    Syracuse Basketball
    Tailgating
    Tailgating At The Ralph
    Tank Carder
    Tanking
    Taro Tsujimoto
    Tashard Choice
    Tbn
    Team Captains
    Ted Black
    Ted Nolan
    Terrance Mcgee
    Terrance Williams
    Terrell Owens
    Terrence Mcgee
    Terry Collins
    Terry Pegula
    Thad Lewis
    Thanksgiving
    The Adventures Of Walter Garbinski
    The Apologist
    The Aud
    The Barrister
    The Beautiful Game
    The Big Lebowski
    The Buffalo News
    The Casted Foot
    The Cincinnati Bengals Are Criminals
    The City Of Buffalo
    The Commander
    The Continental
    The Dark Knight
    The Deeg
    The Defenseman
    The Grouch
    The Happy Endings Podcast
    The Hit
    The Hosers
    The Jambrones
    The Kids In The Hall
    The Kinsale
    The Legal Limit
    The Outlander
    The Patriots
    The Pink Elephant
    The Ralph
    The Rock
    The Ronin
    The Scizz
    The Scizzette
    The Undertaker
    The Wayans Brothers
    The Wild Card
    The Wire
    The Wizard
    The Yachtsman
    Thierry Henry
    Things That Matter More Than Sports
    Things That Piss Me Off
    Thomas Vanek
    Thrashers
    Tiger Woods
    Tim Connolly
    Tim Graham
    Tim Kennedy
    Tim Murray
    Tim Tebow
    Todd Collins
    Tom Brady
    Tom Golisano
    Tom The Cat
    Toronto
    Tottenham Hotspur
    Trade Rumor
    Trent Edwards
    True Colors
    Twitter
    Tyler Ennis
    Tyler Myers
    Tyler Thigpen
    Tyrod Taylor
    Ugly Models
    Undertaker
    Undrafted Free Agents
    USMNT
    USWNT
    Vacation
    Vajazzling
    Vancouver
    Vanilla Ice
    Video Games
    Ville Leino
    Vince Mcmahon
    Vincent Tan
    Vince Young
    Violence Is Not Funny
    Von Miller
    Vulgarity
    Wall Of Fame
    Warpath
    Washington Capitals
    Washington Redskins
    Waste Of A Post
    Watkins Glen
    WCW
    WECK 1230
    Weed
    Weezer
    Wembley
    West Wing
    WGR
    Where Are They Now?
    Wilco Sucks
    Winnipeg Jets
    World Cup
    Wrestlemania
    Wrestling
    Wtf
    Wu Tang Forever
    WWE
    Yankees
    You Can Play
    Your Mom

this site powered by the inane musings of raving lunatics