This article is rated Internet-MALSV for language, sex and violence. Nah, I’m just kidding about the sex and violence, but I’m gonna type the f-word a few times. Reader discretion advised.
The late, great writer Tom Wolfe had a lot of cool. Most people would cite his sartorial elegance as the prime example. He dressed like he was prepared to die and for people to say, the second he dropped dead, “Aw man this sucks, but you gotta admit the man cuts a mean corpse.” Rarely would a photo surface that didn’t find him dressed to the nines. To the tens! Dude liked his clothes. Another way in which he was cool was his complete understanding — and mastery over — the weird corners of colloquial English. In his much-maligned third novel I Am Charlotte Simmons, Wolfe wrote a long digression about a pattern of speech he called “the fuck patois”. It outlined the wide variety of ways that identity-forming undergrad millennials crammed the f-word into almost every part of their young vernacular. Reading the book shortly after its release, I found the passage both hilarious and eerily accurate. So many of my peers in school explored and experimented with the endless versatility of fuck with an intense rigor and dedication similarly applied to our academic studies. The fuck patois was always being spoken and always being stretched and deployed in new and exciting ways. My best college friend and I developed a cheeky comment on the fuck patois. Our marching band played the pep-band standard “Eat ‘Em Up, Eat ‘Em Up, Rah Rah Rah!” about a half-dozen times a game. As we became upperclassmen and the absurd hilarity of the fuck patois gradually came into focus, we created our own remix of “Eat ‘Em Up” with the lyrics “Fuck ‘Em Up, Fuck ‘Em Up, Fuck Fuck Fuck!” wherein we’d also sing every single one of the tune’s notes (and harmonies) with the lyric “fuck”. To the uninitiated, our joke-on-joke song-and-dance likely appeared foolish and/or insane, but the deliciousness of what we considered genius irony was too much to resist. We were in our early 20s, come on.
I bring this all up to admit that in dire situations — like the emotionally dire Sunday afternoon the Lions threw us into when they played the Seahawks — I involuntarily slip back into the fuck patois. In retrospect, I’m fortunate my Running Diary duties force me to watch the game alone (or with non-fuck-understanding Puppy). I’d feel embarrassed by how many different and sometimes strange ways I use the f-word when things aren’t proceeding ideally for my squad. Exasperation, anger, resignation, subdued-ness and even jubilation: fucks all around when the stakes are high, apt to replace or modify any word in any sentence at any time.
Sadly for the Lions and my other picks last week, many more negatively-tinged fucks were merited than their upbeat brethren. The Lions are like a fine, old-world timepiece. If it all works, it works beautifully. But just one or two grains of sand in the gears seem to constitute a full-on monkey wrench and the whole thing shuts down until it can be delicately crafted back into operation. Against Seattle, three injuries (Decker, then Vaitai and the kiss-of-death injury to Davey) and their cascading effects led to catastrophe. But such is the way of the NFL. Starters go down all the time. Bad injury luck is just bad luck with regard to injuries (genius sentence), and the finickiness of injury luck is as strong as any other luck application’s. By the way, while we’re on the subject: luck does rhyme with fuck. It’s obvious that the rhyming hints at a heretofore unseen connection that’s incomprehensible to the limited perspectives of the human mind. The nature of the luck/fuck connection is unlikely to be revealed in our cosmically brief lifetimes.
But we persevere, unbowed and unbeaten by the mysterious and colossal tides of the unknown. With that in mind, here’s who I think will win football games this weekend. Thousands of faithful readers will note the slight change in format, done in the service of luck and in the hope of its return.
LIONS V. FALCONS, NUTSHELLED:
The Falcons might be better than I had thought. They’re tough and no-quitty like the Lions. They hit really hard all game long. Dijon Bijan (why not?) looks — hard to admit — like a souped-up and stronger Jah Gibbs thus far. Ridder is shaky, but can have spurts of competent game management and perhaps even good and intermediate-distance passing, an area of defense in which the Lions don’t perform so well. Offensively, the Lions are missing some really impactful guys. Goff is a really good QB when the pocket is like a bunker. But his erraticism grows quickly when there’s decent pressure, even when it doesn’t get home. He no longer falls apart like he did in his Rams Supe, but small flaws become slightly more pronounced. High balls, behind balls, extra half-hitches before throws; in today’s NFL parity party these little differences can cumulatively swing a game by several touchdowns. Also, the run game isn’t as much of a threat with Davey out. The official word is he has a week-by-week thigh bruise, but most people are assuming he’s not dressing for this one. And so far Jah Gibbs doesn’t look like he can beef himself between the tackles. Barring a career-best-type game from Craig Reynolds, one would expect the running game to take a step back, and that puts additional pressure on Goff, figuratively but also, eventually, literally. A lot of would-be 3rd-and-3s start to look like 3rd-and-8s.
We’re also banged-up on defense. This might be really bad, because we weren’t getting pressure when we were healthy. Without James Houston or Ceej Garj the Lions will be hard-pressed to frustrate Atlanta’s attack. Maybe he knows our coverage isn’t the best so he’s relying on a 4 or 3-man rush, but Glenn has to figure out a way to consistently bother the opposing quarterback. Maybe more weird and disguised blitzes from the nickel or outside ‘backer. Rodriguez is overdue for a “Lattimer from The Program bananas foster”-type game. Maybe Angry Jack Campbell can justify his good-natured churlishness that the press revealed this week. Something’s gotta happen. Because for real, you could count on one hand the plays in which Geno Smith didn’t look comfortable as he dropped back last week. If we’re to have any chance against the plodding (but tough) Falcon offense we need to get them in 3rd-and-longs and then exploit the unreliability of Desmond Ridder.
Being three point faves in Detroit would suggest Vegas sees the Lions and Falcons as relatively even. This pick goes against a lot of First Officer Spock-like analysis and relies on Captain Kirk-like emotional intuition. I don’t think leather-tough, Texan-born-and-bred Dan Campbell is gonna lose a matchup to a guy whose dad is the founder of FedEx. It doesn’t fit in my head. Thusly, if the results go the other way my head will explode. Gimme the Lions by a field goal.
WEEK THREE NOTABLES:
Patriots (-2.5) @ Jets — I got burned by a similar logic in last week’s picks, but I can’t see Billy Beli going 0-3, and certainly not in New York against the hated Jets. It just doesn’t seem right. Bill-Bel will certainly devise a way to terrify Coug Huntin’ Zachary. If you can do that all game, you can beat the Jets with an offense that isn’t even that good. I think the Pats win by a touchdown.
Broncos (+6.5) @ Dolphins — I think the Dolphins are a “ride-’til-I-can’t-no-more” team. The defense is peppery, too fast for the Dangerous Corn Sandwich. And the way they can score puts so much pressure on the opposing offense to keep pace. That doesn’t play well for Denver. I was a little surprised this line was less than a touchy. Gimme those Dolphins in a TCB convincer.
Panthers (+5.5) @ Seahawks — For obvious reasons, Seattle’s triumph in Motown was painful to watch. But objectively speaking, that was a terrific win. They overcame bad special teams, weird mistakes and untimely catastrophes and still eked out a very good road win. I like them to carry that momentum and handle a team that only has the juice to hang around for three quarters. If Andy Dalton covers this roadie in a hostile Seattle I’ll be very surprised. Lay the five and half to Cinnamon Andy and bet on those Seahawks to keep on truckin’.
Bears (+12.5) @ Chiefs — This is just a pick against the Bears. I don’t like the Bears at all, true, but this pick has nothing to do with personal feelings. They just look awful, in every way (their all-oranges are the worst unis in the NFL in a while), and that was before this extracurricularly insane week. The Chiefs need a week that reminds the rest of the league that they’re still the large cheese. Large cheese? Big cheese. I forget. Point is, this is a huge line but not too huge. Take the Chiefs and count on Bear badness.
Last week saw me scratch and claw for 2-3-0, bringing the season total to 7-3-0. The record could look really, really good if not for a total Broncos collapse and the so-fishy-they-should-call-consult-world-leading-ichthyologists Rams cover, but hey. C’est la vie.
Thank you very much for reading, MiWriTheLi-headz. It means the world to me. I don’t wanna jinx anything but early word is we’re garnering strong consideration for Best New Website by all kinds of internet authorities. “Better than everything normal and sometimes even porn.” That’s what some folks are saying. It’s all thanks to this outstanding readership. So again, thank you. Peep us late Sunday or early Monday for the Running Diary as the Lions try to clip some Falcon wings. Auf Wiedersehen!
