RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition. He does have an amazing PATREON, but also *normal* ARTIST WEBSITE too.

Thursday, August 7

August O.C.D. #5: NFL Self-hyping

Being I made it through the whole year of self-important dork internet football-related updates, and being the Redskins had such a strangely satisfying end to last year's season (up until Gibbs retired again, as I expected he would, and Dan Snyder took about two weeks to fuck up what Gibbs had built back in four years), I am more stoked for the football season than ever, going through my dork mag, and listening to the NFL channel on the Sirius. Well, I was, but I've had technical difficulties with the satellite, and when I called they had me on hold so long, I am being stubborn and hateful and now don't listen to it in the truck (being their bullshit cigarette lighter charger has broken four times in a year and has burned up both my cigarette lighters to where they just blow fuses now) and only the house, at least through the football season, since they have home team broadcasts for everybody, and then I'll revisit it after that.
It seems odd to me that people might actually like baseball so strongly, because my interest in that (as well as the Nascars) is always fleetingly excited, then drops completely come late summer/early fall. And I know this doesn't seem completely obsessive compulsive, but fuck man, I actually look forward to reading the daily Washington Post sports accounts of Redskins camp, and I don't even want to explain how many stupid half-drunken hours I spend looking up team rosters and a bunch of bullshit minutiae for. Shit, I actually spent about four hours one night using my internet welfare dial-up to go through all the minor NAIA and junior college football helmets at The Helmet Project website to find alternative second helmets for some of the NFL teams to use with my stupid rankings bullshit this year. It’s pretty fucking pathetic. But the worst is the fact the other day I was at Best Buy, and since the new Madden is about to come out, last year’s was on sale for ten bucks, which I got, even though I never really fucked with my Madden ‘07 that much to really warrant an ‘08 model. (I find it better to wait three years between Maddens, and immerse myself completely into franchise mode like twenty years down the imaginary road, to where I’m wanting to buy customized Redskins jerseys of fake players because I create these stupid stories in my head about them. Is there Madden game fanfic? I bet there is; every creepy fucking stupid thing you can think of is out there inside these internets.) But when I first hooked it up, I decided to put every team with me in control, reallign all teams geographically, and then do a fantasy draft where I assign players to the pro teams closest to where they played college ball (with in-state allegiances enforce before out-of-state closer cities). All I could really do the first night was the quarterbacks, drafting two per team, with each team having a third on reserve not yet drafted (since you can only draft positional minimums). The best pair was probably Peyton Manning and Jay Cutler at Tennessee or Brett Favre and Eli Manning in New Orleans, and funniest to imagine was Vince Young and Jamarcus Russell in Houston. Oh yeah, Carson Palmer and Matt Leinart in San Diego would probably be good too, but I think Carson Palmer’s a fucking fruit. I actually probably don’t like that guy even more than stupid Peyton Manning, and I’m not even sure why.
Anyways, stupid NFL football’s all soaking up in my brain lately, to the point I listened to half the Chicago Bears/Kansas City Chiefs preseason game on the radio tonight. That’s pretty bad, and pointless.

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