Week 13: A Bit of Frost on the Hillside (by Kevin Savage!)

The slate skies overhead herald the arrival of December…another corner turned, and the drama grows thicker, the stakes heavier, and the lessons learned more poignant and piercing. The playoffs are nearly upon us, and the journey has not been easy.

Across a surging sea we’ve made our path, and pause to mourn those we’ve lost (Javon Walker, we hardly knew ye) and those who will never be the same again (Daunte…Jamal, Jamal…Daunte).

And now we emerge, mud-encrusted and gasping, in the true belly of the beast. This was a harsh week, full of unrelenting opponents, taut, hard-fought contests, and impressive performances from unheralded players. In short, a true week of football.

To the recap:

Sluts (87) v. Steamrollers (75)
The California Courtesans have come on strong the second half of the season, after finishing underneath, behind, and after most of their opponents scant months ago. But that’s the problem with ladies of the night…they never seem to peak at the right time. Sad, but I suppose your timing’s bound to be a little off when you’re setting your watch to the tremulous rhythms of a stranger’s idle hands.

Recently, though, they’ve managed to come on top, multiple times. And this week their prowess left the defending champs limp, deflated, and the victims of a record-breaking ninth-straight loss, Sei’s team’s good name more sullied than threadbare sheets in a dingy Las Vegas motel.

In Larry Johnson the Sluts have found a future top-three draft pick, and a possible heir-apparent to L.T.’s crown. Starting Big Ben (25 points) over the Aging Gunslinger, who, God bless ‘em, tries his damndest (-1…tragic) was a key tactical decision, although seating a solid, though not spectacular, D. Davis in favor of prison flunkie and all-around disappointment Jamal Lewis was certainly a questionable move.

Meanwhile, the waiver-wire master was unable to draw blood from stones like Ryan Fitzpatrick (alas, my namesake!) and C. Martin (who hasn’t scored in double digits since week 7). Samkon Gado, everyone’s favorite Nigerian (sorry Christian Okoye), strode grimly into battle once again, and though his point total was fairly lackluster (10) he remains a bona fide diamond in the rough this late in the game. Well, he would if he played for a team that had a chance.

Blackouts (131) v. Surf Riders (64)
Some matchups leave us nodding knowingly, studying the implications to the sparest detail, and weighing the possibilities on our mental scales. Others leave us stumbling and dazed, more confounded than Peter after a Sunday morning wake-and-bake.

This game was both.

The decadence of the Blackouts was simply astounding. Even with Chris Chambers’ staggering 36 points languishing on the bench, the Blackouts still amassed 131 in an absolute rout of the poor Surf Riders. Brad Johnson continues to be an admirable fill-in for the ligament-less Culpepper, and Portis, Housh, and Tiki blasted the Surf Riders with their daunting point-totals. But the performances of these gritty warriors were overshadowed by a dizzying display of defensive dominance, a blistering attack from a largely mediocre Seattle squad during one of the most mind-numbing and tedious games in the history of Monday Night Football. Three turnovers returned for touchdowns is certainly a laudable effort, but a Brobdingnagian 48 points? Gadzooks.

The Surf Riders could only muster a tepid 64 points in response, and only two players, Kurt Warner (14), and Hines Ward (26), contributed anything of significance. Mewelde Moore continued to be less, not more, Jermaine Wiggins slept in that day, and a normally resilient Jags’ D chipped in for a mere 9 points against an anemic Cleveland team. Even Lee Evans’ 30 bench points would’ve been useless against this onslaught. Ouch.

Chimps (67) v. Juggs (66)
If Eskimos have dozens of different words for snow, how many do the Juggernauts have for “loser”?

Several months ago, the Juggs were clearly the team to beat coming out of the draft. Their lineup would’ve made prognosticators and pundits salivate at the possibilities…every analyst predicted McGahee would explode this year (6 points this week), Julius Jones would come into his own (15…on the bench!!), and Andre Johnson would pick up where he left off (6 bench points)…on paper, Matt’s team was clearly superior to any in the league. But as they say, that is why they glay the pame.

I shamelessly admit to being a Juggs fan during this epic, frustrating struggle. “One more goddamn catch!” I shouted to the television, hoping against hope that Mr. Gates would come through in the clutch. Even a tie would be enough to vault my Savages back into their rightful position at the top of the division. Even a tie…

But no. It’s frustrating having the best team, but the worst luck. Tragic comedy, like when a clown dies.

Meanwhile, the torch for the “Luckiest Sonofabitch in the League” has been handed off yet again. Once passed between the Pussycats and the Blackouts with more frequency than a San Francisco Slut between two ale-soaked longshoremen, the torch now rests comfortably within the thumb-less paws of Sir Chimpy. Aside from the Buccaneers Defense (23), his team was dismal…how very, very unfair.

I’ve tasted bitterness before, and recognize its tart flavor all too well. Oddly enough, it kind of tastes like marzipan. Anyway, many a wall in my apartment needs a little patchwork after that Monday night game. Surcharged, indeed.

Beatles (80) v. Manhandlers (46)
The MM’s piteous performance this week is probably best forgotten, while the Beatles remain a team with a few stout players and an assortment of scrubs, bumblers, and ne’er- do-wells.

Joey Galloway was the only soldier on the Manhandlers’ squad to marshal double digits, and the Broncos D’s total of -4 is grounds for a trip to the glue factory. Meanwhile, Deshaun Foster relaxed on the sidelines with an impressive total of 27, and the Redskins’ Defense throttled the Rams for 18 more squandered points.

For the Beatles, Peyton, Fitzgerald, and a formidable Bears D chipped in for their requisite amounts, Terry Glenn finally caught a touchdown and Keyshawn reverted to being Keyshawn. Steve Heiden also started at tight end. Inexplicably.

On a side-note, Thomas Jones has disappeared. Lost amidst a lackluster offense and a marquee D, Mr. Jones will need to keep up with his earlier stats if the Beatles hope to beat those obnoxious kitty cats this weekend.

Bobcats (90) v. Motha Tucka’s (60)
The signs are grim. Though their team is largely unbalanced, with gaping holes at key positions, the Pussycats are a fortuitous bunch. Should they hoist the coveted MML trophy, many years from now when all our bones are dust, atheists the world over will continue to point to the Bobcats’ dubious Championship as indisputable proof that there is no God. Should this aggravating group of trash talkers and communists achieve that shining goal, I’d be hard pressed not to agree that yes, in fact, we are alone.

Once again, Peter “I-Should’ve-Consulted-My-Shakespearean-Dictionary-Before-Writing-Last-Week’s-Recap” (“wherefore” means “why” not “where,” Boss) Schoewe’s Overachievers…I mean Bobcats…proved the better team. It was indeed a true team effort, with fairly humdrum performances from the usual suspects (L.T. at 9, Brees at 14, C. Johnson at 7). Crucial was a formidable Giants D that remained bulletproof and steadfast as they stared down the Cowboys.

Throughout the course of the season, the Mutha’Tucka’s have proven to be a high-scoring machine. Once again, Peter’s luck held true, as the ‘Tuckers amassed a mediocre 60 points, despite a ferocious assault from both Rudi and Shaun Alexander. When Plaxico, Witten, and Muhammad combine for 6 total points, chances are you’ll be left grasping the ground in defeat.

Savages (108) v. Wild Things (36)
To quote Peter Griffin: “Can someone give me a hand with all this talent?”

Once again, my peyote-swillin’ pagans did me proud, and proved that, meaningless records and opportune match-ups aside, they are clearly the team to beat in the MML. More well-rounded than Salma Hayek in a girdle, they continue to own the century club, having scored over 100 in six of the last nine weeks, and over 90 in eight of the last nine.
And in Edge (18 points), Lamont Jordan (only 2? Must’ve been doped up or something), and Steve Smith (15), the Savages have three of the top seven scorers in the entire league.

I’d share more stats, but I’d hate to devolve into something resembling a Schoewe.

Needless to say, they made short work of their hapless opponent this week. I’m not sure exactly where the wild things are…but they definitely aren’t in playoff contention, having been ravaged by the Eagles’ rapid descent into failure.

It’s getting good now. One week closer, but questions still need to be answered. Who will claim the final two playoff berths? Is there justice in the world, and will Peter’s ramshackle team ever get the ass-whipping it truly deserves? Will I capture the division title that is rightfully mine, or will I be forced to slog my way through the playoffs like a common serf? And finally, and most importantly…does Christmas smell like oranges? So many questions.

And so we beat on, boats against the current…to week fourteen.