Running Diary: Saturday Night Football

Again, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and with my apologies to Bill Simmons I will write my running diary of a segment of TV viewing:

10:12 pm: The Patriots are winning 21-17 over Jacksonville late in the 3rd. It has been a watchable game so far. Each team has answered each other's scores. I picked Jacksonville based on the spread so this is going well so far too. Because of serious headaches (I think that I have a tumor caused by Tom Brady's stubble) I am not hitting the Irish Stout as I had planned.

10:15 pm: As much as I rag on Brady, but one has to be impressed that he is currently 22 of 23...make it 23 of 24 as they just scored another TD. Pats now up by 11. The line was 13. OK. I am safe as long as they don't score again. Maybe I should take some more Advil.

10:19 pm: It is gut check time for the Jags. Down by 11 late in the 3rd. They need to answer or it will be over before 10:30.

10:20 pm: Ad came on for David Letterman. Katie Holmes is a featured guest next week. So Tom lets her out of the house? You mean he lets her out of the alien pod she has to sleep in waiting for the next comet to roll by? Where is the baby? Oh I forgot, the baby is already on the spaceship to Venus.

10:23 pm: Huge jump and grab by the Jags Wilford. Huge first down for them. They also get the call for spearing late. Is it me or is the Foxborough crowd nervous? I know my cat is nervous. He's eating plastic wrappers from my wife's cigarette packages. I have to stop the cat now unless I want to go to the kitty emergency room again.

10:27 pm: Another huge first down by the Jags in the red zone. This time Jones-Drew catches a screen and bowls over a defensive back for the first down. I have to admire the fact that the Jags are refusing to give up in the face of Darth Hoodie. I wonder what his presser will be like after the game. Wait a minute!! He does not have any personality. I already know what it will be like. It will be like watching my six hour home movie of my trip to the Deep South I made in 1991. After five minutes you have a blinding headache watching it and you are praying that the giant gerbil comes out of the woods and eats the camera person. Did I only take Advil earlier?

10:33 pm: Jags now are down by 8 with about 9 1/2 minutes left in the game. They made the right decision by taking the points in the red zone instead of giving the game away by going for it on 4th down. The Advil has not kicked in yet as I still feel like a sledgehammer is hitting my head. I need a comet to take me away.
The cat did not finish all the plastic. You never ever want to go to any emergency room at this hour. Not a people ER or a pet ER. I went to a pet ER in North Carolina with my cat who fell down and would not get up. It wasn't pretty.

10:39 pm: Patriots go down the field and get a field goal and the lead is 11. It would have been 15 if it wasn't for a shoe string tackle several minutes earlier. The Jags are still alive in this game with under 7 minutes to go.

10:42 pm: Now is not the time for a trick play on a kickoff. Coach Del Rio needs to be fired and go invent some salsa or a sharper ax for the locker room. He needs the comet ride to stop here before taking the TomKat baby to Venus. This is the moron who had a tree in the locker room and ax to chop it with. Then the punter chopped half his leg off with the ax. Maybe I am exaggerating a little here. He did not chop half his leg off only a piece of his leg off. This reminds me of that story where the punter at a small Colorado college shanked the other punter he was competing with for a starting job. How many Coors were consumed before he came up with that plan? How many tapes of Nancy Kerrigan did he view prior to the act?

10:49 pm: Another cat in the house puked up her dinner, of course, on the carpet. Yaaaay Me!!! I am the only person still awake to clean it up.

10:52 pm: The Patriots Harrison picks off a pass on 4th and 6 with about 4 minutes left. I am now going to puke up my dinner.

10:56 pm: Stallworth for the Patriots just converted a third and long by diving for the first down. This pretty much puts a fork in the Jaguars. I wonder what jaguar tastes like? Chicken? Snake? Gator? Can you put hot sauce on it? Fried gator is pretty good actually. I had it in a restaurant just outside of Gainesville, Florida. Ironic isn't it?

10:59 pm: Ad for the next Rambo movie. Absolutely perfect. That guy must have had a combination of botox, HGH, steel rods, and crazy glue to look like a complete space alien. He must be on his way on another comet to Saturn. Someone should really get Sly to stop. He's going to end up like Lyle Alzado.

11:05 pm: The game is now over. I am going to have a heart attack to go with my tumor. I just saw two things I would never see in the same generation. I saw Coach Hoodie smile and actually hug his children and then I noticed that the Pats only won by 11 and I am right on another pick. I am going to have to give myself a triple bypass right now. I am doing it with only Advil as an anesthetic. I feel like I will be OK though since I have taken about 100 in the last two days. (I'm kidding just a little. No need to call the rescue squad yet. Wait till I start the surgery)

11:10 pm: Should I go find Coach Hoodie's presser? Any thoughts on this? I am really debating this in my head. On another note as I quickly roll to ESPNews, which college basketball team currently has a better record? Virginia Military Institute or Michigan? If you answered Michigan you would be wrong. VMI is 9-6 and Michigan is 5-8. Where is the Fav Five when you need them? I was clicking around earlier today and saw at the beginning of the 2nd half of the UNC-NC State that UNC was up 46-15. Just stupid.

11:18 pm: COACH HOODIE PRESSER!!!!!! HOW EXCITING!!! GET THE POPCORN KIDS!!! GET THE BATTERY CABLES OUT!!! ATTACH THEM TO MY __________!!!!!! GET THE PADDLES OUT!!!! I NEED CPR!!!!

11:21 pm: Next up: Zoolander Presser. Can't wait. His smile will be blinding. I need my shades. I need more Advil.

11:22 pm: Hoodie presser is now over. Anyone notice that no one asked him any real questions? What are they afraid of? Do they think if they ask the wrong question they'll get whacked by Darth Hoodie's minions? Wait. I already know the answer to this question. Never mind. Questions I would ask Coach Hoodie:
1. Did you make sure Tom got his child support payment in on time?
2. Did you take Nyquil before or after the game?
3. Who dressed you today?
4. Where is the body buried?
5. Is it true that you had a hit on Donovan McNabb and Tony Romo?
6. Who ordered the "Code Red"?

11:26 pm: ZOOLANDER PRESSER!!!! WAKE THE KIDS!!! GET MY SUNGLASSES OUT!!! HIDE THE WOMEN!!! HIDE THE SHEEP!!

11:28 pm: Doesn't anyone else notice that Tom tries to smile after every word he utters? What's with this? Nobody asks him any real questions either. Some questions I would ask are as follows:
1. Didn't your pre-school bust you for using performance enhancing drugs to learn your colors faster than everyone else?
2. Have you got your visitation set yet?
3. How much is your child support payment? $200,000 a week? $400,000?
4. If Gisele gets pregnant, will you dump her too?
5. Do you know how to put on a condom?
6. Isn't Randy Moss your "special wide receiver"?