Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Detroit Lions... It's Over

Dear Detroit Lions,

I have put off this post for quite sometime. But, I can't keep going through my life with a relationship as unfulfilling as ours. I'm sorry to do this over a blog and not in person, but... sorry, give me a second.... I just don't feel you're making any effort here. The Matt Millen era has pushed this beyond the point of no return.

I can change. Just give me a chance. Sweeping new changes are coming. A new era of
Detroit Lions football...

Shut up! You always promise me a new era of Lions football. You've won one playoff game since 1957! Do you have any idea how many people have been born and died since 1957? You've won 20 games since the end of the 2000 season. You've tied up a ludicrous amount of salary cap money in young wide receivers without addressing the obvious concerns, such as the horrendous offensive line or the quarterback position.

It's not my fault Joey Harrington sucks.

GAH!!! I've wanted this to work so bad. But you're showing me why it can't. You need to grow up. All you're doing is pointing fingers and not addressing the obvious problems. Harrington has not worked out as you would hope a #3 overall pick would. But, you haven't exactly put him in a position to succeed. You've surrounded him with a second rate offensive line, an almost non-existent running game (except for 2004) and a wide high priced receiver corp. that has been MIA. Don't you realize, Payton Manning and Joe Montana would've struggled in this environment.

You expect too much of me. All Detroit fans are too negative. Not everyone can be the Red Wings and win you a championship every other year or the Pistons go to work every night with Ben Wallce. We can't all have awesome froes!

Oh Detroit Lions, how do you live with yourself? Detroit wants nothing more than a winning NFL franchise. Do you remember the support that was always drummed up during the Wayne Fontes "save my job" playoff runs? The fans don't need the New England Patriots. They'd settle for the consistently mediocre and unimpressive Kansas City Chiefs. That's all we need from you. Just make it fun to watch games. The only thing I was thankful for during the 27-7 loss to the Falcons on Thanksgiving was that I wasn't in the stadium. The previous year you lost 41-9 to the Colts on Thanksgiving. The only reason there's a Thanksgiving game in Detroit these days is so the other NFL franchises can be thankful they're not you.

Maybe you just need to go to a game. It really doesn't look so bad in person.

The last time I went to a Lions game, I got to the stadium an hour early, had to walk all the way around the stadium, spend an hour waiting in line at Will Call, and then walk all the way back around the stadium. By the time I got to my seats it was 17-3 Tampa Bay and the game was over. I'm tired of the excuses. I hope we can be friends down the road. But, I don't know if it's possible.

You're so ungrateful! I gave you Barry Sanders. The greatest running back in the history of game.

Yet, you only approached a Super Bowl once, never tried to build a team around him. He spent half his career in a run-and-shoot build around Rodney Peete. Rodney Peete! And Barry was so fed-up with you that he left when all he needed was a year to break the career rushing mark. And I'm going to leave you too. I can pick up another NFL franchise. Just because I'm from Michigan, and my Dad and Grandpa grew up watching you lose, doesn't mean that I have to take it to. I am not doomed to this abuse cycle. I am empowered. I and my own man. I see a wonderful future with myself and the San Diego Super Chargers!!!!

You don't mean that... you can't. You're killing me debacle, you're killing me!

This is hard for me to. Harder than you know. My whole life, fall Sunday's were Detroit Lions days.

Well... enjoy the Chargers. I hope they can bring you the happiness that I never could. It may not have looked like it. But, I tried. I tried Scott Mitchell, Ty Detmer, Gary Moller, Marty Morningweg, Charlie Batch, Jonnie Morton, Joey Heisman, Jeff Garcia, Mike McMahon, Charles Rogers and Steve Mariucci. It may not have worked. I made some bad choices. I'm sorry. But, I'm going to keep fighting, and one of these days, I'll bring Detroit something it'll be proud of. Maybe even a playoff win.

Oh Lions! How could I be so crass, I'm sorry! I don't know why I hurt you so. It's all my fault. I couldn't not be a Lions fan. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I know one day you'll treat me right.

It's okay Debacle. All I want is for you to be happy (not the best to open this at work). It's forgiven. Just don't scare me like that again...

Just one thing.

Oh debacle, for you, anything!

Could you fire Matt Millen and bring in someone who knows what they're doing personnel wise. Someone who won't point fingers, but addresses problems. You know, someone with experience.

I'll consider it at the end of the season. I'll do what's be for the organization.

Then we're on a break!!! As long as Millen is there, I'm no longer a Lions fan. I renounce the Detroit Lions! Go San Diego Super Chargers!!!!

In upcoming posts looks for:
Taco Bell 7-Layer attempt on my life
Remember the Alamo!
We're Dancing baby!
My Least Favorite Mid-Major: Notre Dame
Getting the Tag off My Running Shoes (when it happens. Wishful thinking perhaps)
Classic Looks: Don't forget the flowers
Nostradamus can eat my Nuts
The Victoria's Secret Incident

Debacle Index: Yellow Alert

Monday, December 12, 2005

I'm a single guy with cats

Near the end of my final tour of College, I was talking with my roomates about how I was going to get cats when I moved out on my own. I was somewhat surprised by how hillarious this idea struck them. Apparently, there's a bit of a stigma associated with a single dude owning cats. For some reason people think owning cats is somewhat effeminate... People tend to think of the crazy cat lady when they hear about a single guy owning cats. Let's face it, as a single dude, making people think about crazy cat ladies (these links are worth going to) isn't going to make the best first impression.

Well, the crazy cat ladies of the world have really hurt my game. I'm on a mission to dudify the stigma of cat ownership. Because, let's face it, I don't see what makes owning cats so girly. I was originally thinking about taking pictures of my cats when they look at porn, watch football and drink beer, just to show that cats can be good pets for dudes. But, I thought about it, and I wasn't sure that was the best course of action. I mean, I'm only a big fan of one of the three personally. And, I've met ladies who are game for all three. Besides, it's rather shallow to attempt to prove a point with tired stereotypes.

So, instead, I decided to just tell it like it is. I'll give you a window into what its been like since I got home and caught up with my cats. So, like I said, I have two. Their names are Mazel and Strider and they're brothers, both a year and a half old. It's really fraternal owning cats and it's amazing how two cats, both brothers, raised in basically the same environment, can have such strikingly different personalities. Mazel definitely got the looks and the charm. It can be a bit much sometimes, because it's like he always has something to prove and he won't stop talking about the "lats" (lady cats). But, he's pretty hilarious, and fun to have around. Strider on the other hand is a wonderful compliment. He's got a few extra ounces, which doesn't seem to bother his so much. Nothing phases him. He's the perfect wingman for Mazel, and he much prefers to let the "lats" (ugh, I can't get used to that word. Worst part of cat ownership) come to him.

I could tell they were home when I heard Usher's Yeah! blaring down the hallway. I asked them to turn it down a notch while I made dinner. They're good roommates, they had no problem with that. Mazel was in a good mood. He told me that the "smokin' lat" in the window was giving him serious vibe during the day. Strider gave him a high five as if to say, "You know it bro!" Mazel popped his collar up and confidently nodded.

Apparently, the "lat" (ugh, so painful to type), fell asleep in the window closest to my apartment, and was "totally pawing glass" at Mazel. During the glass pawing, Strider went to Limewire and downloaded Some Barry White song and blared it during the “glass pawing”. The "lat" left not long later, but she'd been on the window sill all day and was probably hungry. Also, trying not to show she was too interested. Yeah, that didn’t really make sense to me either. Mazel told me that if there was ever some cat food under the door, I should find somewhere else to crash. I mean that's fair, I don't want to be a game wrecker.

I was asking Mazel about this "lat". You know, what she was like. He just told me about how smokin' she was. Strider interjected several time some "Yeah dudes, she's totally fine" But, I was curious about personality and stuff. You know, what she was into. Wet or dry food, mice or spiders... etc... Neither of them knew how to answer the question. They just kept telling me about her thighs, front paws, utters, etc... I mean, I didn't see what the big deal was, I know what she looked like, I felt we didn't have to keep talking about it. To be honest, I got a little bored. But the two of them kept yapping up a storm about her. They still are... I can't say I understand cats. But, I think you'll agree, cats can be quite "dudish".

Although, at the same time, I haven't been around many female cats. Maybe they're different. Strider told me some stories about how they like to circle the fat on each other and eat nothing but catnip in an attempt to lose weight. I dunno... maybe that's different. Maybe crazy cat ladies only have "lats". I'm happy with my two cats. Kind of annoying how they want me to get Tivo just for "Desperate Housewives." I mean, I just can't always relate to them. But, it's fun. I have no regrets about being a single guy with cats.

As a side note, I promised to write a rant about the Lions today. Don't worry, that's coming. In addition, also on the horizon is a MyDebacles classic look back at "Two Thursdays Ago".

Debacle Index: Yellow Alert

Sunday, December 11, 2005

I'm no MacGyver

If I could be any television character, it'd be MacGyver. For 55 minutes, his show would ramble on about some international private foundation that would go around the world helping people... I'm getting bored just thinking about it. But, for five minutes, he would draw innovation from his classic 80s mullet and build something to save the day. Be it, a defibrillator from some power cords and silver candlesticks, a bomb from swamp gas and bamboo chutes or stopping the boat carrying him to Heaven with rope and several other household objects so he could come back to life and stop the terrorists (well, that might've been when it jumped the shark). He could salvage any show, no matter how bad, by building something. Imagine the everyday uses of this ability... You're on a date, it's going bad, and using a fork, a rubber band, and your watch and a bike helmet, you build an escape pod and run away. Best superhero ever...

Well, today we learned that I am no MacGyver. I purchased some running shoes yesterday, and I took them out this morning to go running and found that they still had the security tag attached. Well, as I saw it, I had two choices, I could take the shoe back, or break off the security tag and go running. For any MacGyver fan such as myself, the choice was obvious. Besides, I had some scissors, a wine corker, a manual can opener and a Phillips screwdriver.

I quickly tried to cut through the metal wire holding the tag on... no dice, my scissors broke and the wire was in tact. I blame my mullet for getting in the way. I discarded the scissors, and attempted to use the screwdriver to break through the plastic of the tag. After approximately 45 minutes (the time it would take to get to the shoe store and back twice), I managed to break up all of the plastic except for the inner plastic piece which was much stronger.

Enter the manual can opener. Perfect size for the plastic piece. Well, it didn't work, but I didn't break it either. I'll say that's an even trade. There was a small opening on the top of the plastic, perfect for a wine corker. Well, that didn't work either....... After approximately one and a half hours of my life wasted, I still had the small plastic piece attached. I could probably run with it on. Although, if someone looked at my shoe, they'd think I'd zoinked it. I can't take it back to the shoe store, because they probably wouldn't be so happy that I destroyed their tag and didn't bring it back to them in the first place.

This is a debacle. And, I am no MacGyver. I need a Mullet of Knowledge. Starting today, I will begin growth of my Mullet of Knowledge. I'll just explain to people I'm growing a mullet to get the tag off my running shoes.

Just saw the Lions lose to the Packers... For my next post I shall rant about the Lions.

Debacle Index: Yellow Alert.
Mullet of Knowledge Index: Long way to go...


Well, after enough ESPN Classic style debacles, I decided it was time for a blog. We'll see how well I keep up with it (don't worry, it won't ALL be about my debacles). But, I figure I'll webize it and see what I got....

Debacle Index: Yellow Alert.