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Showing posts with label Brett Favre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brett Favre. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

REPRINT: XLII: What's important to me this last Year -- Still Stands

No tears in Green Bay
by Pat Darnell January 12, 2008
8:00PM


MooPig is on location at the "Two Girls Waffle House of Ashwaubenon, Wisconsin, off Pilgrim Way, near Lambeau Field.

"We love that Bret Favre, eh," says Winnie.

"I remember when he was just a tot ridin'so fast by the stop and go light on Pilgrim," says Girtha, from the kitchen. "Snow, ice, penguins, seahawks, bears and lions.. he paid them no mind even then as a youngster. Always on time with the newspaper."

"Girtha, do you remember the name of Lombardi Avenue before they named it Lombardi?" said Winnie. Girtha answers no.

I don't mention Green Bay quarter back Brett Favre was born 1969 in Kiln, Mississippi, and subsequently grew up to earn a teaching degree from Old Southern Miss, lettering all the way in sports. These two darlings don't need to hear from a wise guy. Apparently a natural born football player from earliest days, Brett Favre makes gals from 20 to 80 swoon, and some guys too, all the way from Upper Peninsula Michigan, to Akron, to suburbs of Chicago.

Add Hunky Male to Favre's George-Blanda of-the-twenty-first-century football resume.


"Who are the Seahawks, again, Honey?" I said.

"Jaxsonville," she answered.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," said I [whadda dumbassIcanbe, eh?].

Errata; via Pribek.net Re: The Seahawks Actually they were one of the original NFL franchises in 1920. Back then they were known as the Muncie Flyers. A curious decision to move the franchise north of the border to Yellowknife the following year left them out of favor with the rest of the league. After years of toiling on the "chitlin' circuit" and later a long stretch playing lounge gigs, mostly at Ramada Inns, during the 70's and 80's, they relocated once again to Seattle during the dot.com boom.
WHO's Paul? Addendum | Pribek Nation

For XLII -- I pick Packers because I don't recognize the names of teams other than those from last century in 1960's. Names of teams used-to represent Industry. For instance, I was a Packer/Jogger in Chicago-land for a brief time after college. I identified with conservative Midwest values of the Bears in the Midwest. I drove a Lion of a car, Buick Wildcat, in my day: passed everything on the road, except gas stations. [photo: 1919 Packers]


My youth was spent in energy boom-town, Houston, where I was a trogladyte following our Oilers. I watched and lived through earliest commercial airlines' industry introduction of luxury Jets. I still have difficulty with Dallas Cowboys and New England Patriots, and Dolphins since they were "expansion" startups back when. And so on.

I also pick Brett for his Lance Armstrong iron-man demeanor. Today was a classic football encounter of the most rare kind. Snow, light breeze, fluffy flakes falling in a quiet muffling array; growing in intensity as the game progressed. Seahawks' coach standing statuesque concentrating on his playbook, unmoving until snow covered one side of him, leaving his down wind side completely clear; are some of the impressions I have of todays' game.

The way Brett Favre played the angles all afternoon, I suspect he has had this game in the snow on his mind for some time now; since he used the snow as his 12th man.

Of course Mr. Favre is not the only rivet in the Packer's team structure; I like to think he exemplifies pivoting panes of the mystique in football from the past; while affecting the next century cacophonies of gridlocked gridiron gladiators. Clever players always have a special day when some impression from a dream is woven into their actual experience. Personally I loved playing football in snow, and mud, and adverse condition. Somehow the customs and conventions of the game are suspended in those contests, and opportunities are presented that would have not on good-weather days existed.

As the game today progressed, I wondered if all sports writers, and chroniclers, and scribes were seeing it? I listened intent on getting some progressive feedback, until I muted the sound completely. You see the footprints of the players and referees left in the snow looked like herds of wildebeests had just stampeded the stadium [thanks to Lion King, Disney, for that metaphor]. Snow fell the whole game. The previous footprints would get covered. Then as the ball game came back to that end fresh snow would become a mosaic of white and green.

I didn't need commentary as occasionally a head hunter linebacker would streak through the screen and send the ball into new orbit, as the poor offense running back was separated from it along with his forward progress. Then the ensuing long slide print in the snow where a 347 pound defensive tackle slid as he pounces and gathers in the ball. Tracks, like I want to make again, but alas am way beyond that age of play.

Each tangled, turf-baring, higgledy-piggledy, topsy-turvy play instantly followed by the referees' intent without guile to sort it all out, leaping himself into the melees to see precisely where to spot the ball, lest anarchy prevail and shoving turn to unfettered mayhem. At one point the referee stood for long minutes with hand on the spotted ball, as the spotting is contested. He is bent over in a back wrenching pose, until judging of ten levels of surrveilance can be merged with all the technology that surrounds the line of scrimmage, the line ref is all but snowed under. The ball is soaked, the ref's hand is frozen and the players are pacing the field.

Coaches grimace, and a new play is called but changed at the line by Favre, and a weak side slant-in caught for 12 yards.. unheard of. Was it a slight nod by Brett to his tight end? First and ten.

Guess what, I don't watch professional football until the playoffs. Today Brett and all his blockers, along with Mother Natures' beautiful snow, made my seldom patronage of the gridiron gladiators all that I ever wished for. I hope there are many others with the same sparkle in their eyes tonight. Who again are the Seahawks? ..weren't they before the Titannics? Eh, Cheesehead?

Shouldn't we all side with the two sisters at Two Girls Waffle House, and remember the fun of playing in the snow? No barriers; lots of Cheese. >pd/final draft [I could've just said 'great game' but then you would've missed me talking about myself!!]

Thursday, September 11, 2008

NFL Football Season Opened... yawn



Ten, HUBBA HUBBA, burning Questions for the 2008 NFL Football Season,
reveiw of Friedman, by Pat Darnell

Wow, did you see that ending ceremony of the Beijing Olympics? I can't get that firework show out of my head.

You know when they gave the stage to Obama, Barack right after his nomidi-nation? They were shooting off flares and little Roman candles.... like Kiss pyrotechnic stuff. I was embarrassed to watch it. It was the most childish thing I had ever seen televised. After witnessing the Beijing summation's and celebrations, I never want to see fireworks on television again.

I felt bad for Obama as he traipsed around the cheesy stage waving his hand high, confused and dazed from the phosphorous retina burns, looking for his family who were to come up with him, as the congregated 65,000 DNC delegates went ticker tape wild.

Obama's littlest daughter leaps into his arms, terrified. The little Obama family dwarfed in its precarious stumbling around during protocol slip ups and malfunctions, looked a bit dysfunctional themselves.

It was like when the child steps up to the can toss game on Bozo, and it goes badly for him. The little tyke needs encouragement even though he throws like a girl... WHAT? oh, sorry.... like an Orangutan; and his toss of the ball bounces off camera, and he is out on the first bucket miss. Boo hoo, makes me very sad. And the vacant, stubborn glare of the child's stage mother.

What is this blog about, Levon? What? Oh, yeah:

(JON FRIEDMAN'S MEDIA WEB 2008 NFL season preview: 10 burning questions Commentary: Look for Chargers-Cowboys in the Super Bowl) September 4, 2008
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah... the NFL Football Season has opened in the past week or ten days, and Brett Favre is in New York. Here's the ten most important pressing questions at NFL opening date, whenever it was:

1) Can the "Jints" repeat?
2) Will the Patriots suffer a post-Super Bowl hangover?
3) So, then, if the Pats and the Giants won't make it to the promised land, which teams will?
[SOURCE]
4) Will Favre lift the Jets to glory?
5) How will Aaron Rodgers do as Favre's replacement in Green Bay?
6) Can Minnesota Vikings star Adrian Peterson supplant San Diego's LaDainian Tomlinson this season as the best running back in the league?

7) Can Romo shake his label as an immature choke artist?
8) Can Bill Parcells work his magic in Miami?
9) Who will emerge as the most overrated player in the league?

10) Who is the best quarterback in his family, Eli Manning of the Giants or his older brother, Peyton Manning, of the Indianapolis Colts?

Go to Jon Friedman's Media Web article to see his take on his own questions... eh?

Monday, January 21, 2008

Less XLII


This year, Super Bowl is just a Pre-Pro Bowl Scrimmage, by Pat Darnell
MooPig Wisdom on 21 Jan 2008 11:45

Let me get this straight: Giants, then, are heavy underdogs for Super Bowl XLII? That supports my point.

Basking in glory of yesteryear and of post-game drain of Sunday’s collide between old-time rivals:

"We are not picking teams; we are picking a game," says retrospective MooPig and friends. "And we feel the game isalready been played: Bay against York!" says MooPig editors on previous Saturday posts. In other words for old-timers in our group the Super Bowl is already done. Next week Super Bowl is ‘ahem, like a pre-season scrimmage for Pro-Bowl encounter to follow from Hawaii. Sorry, that’s just the way it is.

“This weekend [past] I and the Pig [have been]anticipating the championship between Packers and Giants to be the only game worth watching for the year; Favre versus Manning; Old man being challenged by the younger bucker,” said bloggers of MooPig friends on Sunday morning. “I bet the network, FOX this year, will have fewer viewers on Super Bowl Sunday than those who monitored Sundays’ battle at Lambeau,” says Blown-nee from Houston.

Now it’s moot, but we still feel the game ended as it should with the younger blooded QB overcoming the veteran ball handler. “Wow, it looks like Brett can’t focus... look at his face,” said Whats_ur_t_time via webcam from Zeeland, Michigan in the final minutes of regular play. “Yeah, he looks beaten down just enough to not be at his best. ...And look at his eyes all watery from the freezing chill.” Just then Mr. Favre threw the ball like it was a Buick right to Giant’s CB.

Cameras panned and went in close to Favre's face, that is, the exposed parts that were flaking off in the weekend chill. Remarks of minus thirty made MooPig’s little finger and left eyelid start to ache in memory of 30 below wind chills, while trying to work outside at 38 north latitude of the windy city. “That’s why we left Chicago,” says Arthur_itis, the MP clan leader, now retired in TX at a warmer 61 degrees yesterday. "Look at Favre's face. He looks like Schwartzeneggar at the end of T-2."

Hey, compare this one to the NY Jets and Baltimore Colts of Super bowl fame III, 1968 season end, asks the collective of old-timers in cyber sphere.

Was or was not trapeze act of Manning and Burress too much like past tandem act of Joe Namath and Donald Maynard. Namath and his linemen invented the 4000 yards passing records for the next 3 generations of footballers. Superman Johnny Unitas on the other hand was the ground and pound school.

Besides reinventing football offense with the forward pass, after Namath’s knees were patched up many times, someone invented the no hitting the QB below the waist... roughing the passer rules. The Baltimore Colts’ defense would rush in low and grab Namath’s legs and twist like killer alligators. Joe “Broadway” Namath would fall like a twist of rope, as his pass was more often on target and caught. "Yeah, now if you stomp too loudly around the passer, flags fly," says 6foot5 from Missouri.

All else is just moot. Plaxico "Plexiglas" Burress was as transparent as a schooner, and as transcendent as Chriss Angel, as the playing field became less and less level, leaning down hill for Burress and Manning’s aerial aerobics.

Another trend grist could lie in “...the 1958 team, led by coach Weeb Ewbank and quarterback Johnny Unitas defeated the New York Giants at Yankee Stadium 23-17 in the NFL championship game. The game, the first-ever utilizing the overtime rule, is generally considered to be among the greatest contests in professional football history. [Why Iki Peed ya] wikipedia, retrieved today.
So, before I forget why I’m commenting this morning, I want to thank the teams and fans, writers and bloggers in here, and especially the Television groups for bringing me unforgettable images from yesterday’s hostile environment.

We must never forget this is a game of blood and muscle, and the forty yard dash. "How fast the heart recovers after its effort to propel the body of large human determines how fast the limbs recover," says osgood_slaughtery our local Pop Warner coach. In Sunday’s playoff I saw the full Monty of human effort, and the younger QB Eli recovered his circulatory quicker to outlast the older Brett just long enough to get the ball first back into field-goal range.

MooPig very much wants to congratulate the teams for giving us fans one of the grandest Championship games in our viewing history. Also, many viewers were hooting and hollering at the Rustler’s Rest, Houston, and all afternoon as they stopped by to get some supplies, or to get warm.

We asked Grace, matriarch of RusRest, if she was cold, hanging around the store: “No, but I’m going to get one of those heated benches like those guys are sitting on.” It made us all think and we decided the Giants’ benches must have been powered by the bunny who keeps on going, going, and going all the way to Jupiter. "Hey, just ask NASA." >pd

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