“He was a great player, but he was a better person.”
–Bill Belichick, speaking about the late Demaryius Thomas, who died last week at his home from unspecified health complications. Look, Laughing Bill will blow smoke up just about anybody’s ass, particularly if they play special teams and they happen to be on the team he will be playing against this week. He’s also a notorious obfuscator of the the truth (read: he’s a fucking liar) and famously gruff (read: ruthless) with even the players he has deep affection for. Also, literally everybody who dies gets the “He was nice to children, he was a loyal and generous friend, he would give random homeless people the shirt off his back and the keys to his Escalade” treatment whenever anybody talks about them postmortem. But given everything I have seen and read, by all accounts this appears to be true about Number 88. A great player. An even greater dude.
I mean let’s be real, he could have been an unrepentant self-absorbed fuckboi who only cared about notching hoes and stacking paper and he would still be deeply missed for the magic he made on the field. It’s his prerogative to be a dickhead, and as we well know, he’d have plenty of company in the NFL. But he wasn’t, and the reason it’s worth mentioning is because this league is so full of Urban Meyers and Jon Grudens and Dan Snyders, we gotta celebrate the real ones. The people who genuinely put kindness and love into the world, along with incredible entertainment. Again, he was on one end of the ridiculous mega-upset Tebow TD, and he caught all of those passes from Peyton during a historic, magical run, and that is more than we could possibly have a right to ask for. But he is a Denver legend for much more than that, and a fantasy one as well, and he will be missed by all of us.
The 10-man huddle tribute last Sunday was a bit clumsy in how it was executed, but it didn’t matter. It had the intended effect. Bless ol Man Campbell for declining the delay of game penalty, cuz you absolutely know that Belichick would have dinged the poor Broncos for daring to expose their hearts on the field during regulation. The NFL is pretty fucking terrible at pulling off any kind of ceremony with real dignity and grace, but occasionally it happens. Peyton’s HOF speech was one and this was another.
DT came from extremely rough beginnings, but he persevered to become one of the most beloved players in Broncos history, and if the number of players and personnel around the league who got choked up when talking about him this week is any indication, he was beloved throughout the entire sport. Gone too young. Thanks for all the magic. Rest in peace and power, 88.
“It’s way more fun when you’re playing playoff games in December. Don’t you love it? The game’s more fun, right?”
–George Kittle, referring to the intense, gritty atmosphere of the Bengals-49ers game in week 14.
No the fuck it is not. Jesus Hippopotamus Christmas. Watching that game was like having someone yank out each of my nosehairs one by one as slowly as possible over the course of three hours while listening to Lauren Boebert and Laura Ingraham gab about how much they’d love to fellate a smoking hot .450 Bushmaster during the halftime show of the 2021 War on Christmas. I was extremely not content watching the patented Shanahan fourth quarter chokeboy playbook in action, shrinking up the offense’s balls and pissing away the clock while the defense ran out of gas and the 20-6 lead went up in flames. Of course Gould missed the 47 yard game-winning FG. Of course the Bengals won the toss in overtime and of course they moved down the field and scored on their first drive. Fortunately, the defense was able to hold them to a field goal, sealed by a clutch third down red zone sack from Bosa that prevented what seemed like an inevitable game-ending TD. Yet I was staunchly unconvinced that the stalled-out Niners offense could do anything but maybe tie it up with a field goal on the do or die next drive.
Well, pass me the gabagool, cuz just when I thought I was out… Jimmy G pulls a masterful, ice in his veins drive out of his ass, a 6 for 6 passing, 80 yard drive that ended with a skin of his teeth pylon score by Aiyuk. It was ruthless, Brady-esque efficiency that incongruously followed his final pass of regulation, when he literally threw it directly to a Bengals defender – who graciously dropped it, thus affording us all the nut-crushing agony of watching the missed field goal instead.
These are both weird teams. Both are legitimate playoff contenders. Both have moments that make them terrifying for any team that has to face them in a win or go home situation – namely any time that Deebo or Chase or Kittle or Mixon start going into overdrive. Both teams also have a tendency to let dumb fucking shit like this happen:
or this:
These two outfits are part of the big ol’ muddle of teams scrapping around the endless middle, trying to make it into the bottom of the top (Succession reference, not the last!). The cliche since about Week 7 is that there are no elite teams this year, but there are a whole lot of great and good ones with a few glaring flaws. While I don’t necessarily agree with this (I think the elite teams are making themselves known and will continue to solidify that status down the stretch), it is clear that the parity the NFL so badly wants to impose on the league is widespread this year. It does make it so a lot more games than normal are incredibly meaningful at this time of year. There are no easy paths to a playoff spot, no guaranteed berths. So yeah, I guess it does make the games more fun. But man, it’s painful when your team seems just as likely to beat itself as the other team.
But at least we’re playing for something rather than nothing. And at least Kittle is happy. Kid deserves it. Can’t wait to be up 37-10 in the Wild Card Round with 11 minutes left, watching the Cowboys recover 4 onside kicks a row and go up 38-37 with 1:08 left and we go four and out because Jamycal Hasty runs three times for 4 yards and then Deebo gets a taunting penalty for not acting like Hamlet singing Robert Smith songs at a child’s funeral after he makes a first down catch.
Love this fucking game.
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