“It’s like if you were taking AP Spanish all year and you showed up on Wednesday and someone told you you have an AP French exam on Sunday.”
-former aerospace engineering major Josh Dobbs, talking about the experience of playing quarterback for a Vikings offense he had barely practiced with, running a playbook he’d barely even glimpsed, and throwing to guys whose names he didn’t know.
Dobbs was a last minute trade-deadline band-aid QB for the Vikings, who had just lost Kirk Cousins for the remainder of 2023 and, at 4-4, apparently weren’t yet ready to call it quits on the season. Dobbs was traded from the Cardinals on Tuesday. He had his first practice with his new team on Wednesday, and over that week gradually became acquainted with the offense. However, since rookie Jaren Hall was all set to be the starter for Week 1, Dobbs never took a single rep with the first-team offense (!!!). The first time he took a snap from center Garrett Bradbury was on the field, 45 seconds into the second quarter of a 3-3 tie game with the Falcons. He had stepped in to replace Hall, who’d been concussed on the previous drive. Two plays later, Dobbs, flustered and clearly way out of his depth, gave up a safety. On two of his next three drives he fumbled away the ball. And just like that, the Vikings looked to be in for an extremely long and painful morning.
Except all of a sudden, with Kevin O’ Connell’s voice in his headset, breaking down each play to its essential parts, and players in the huddle showing him routes on their palm like they were a gaggle of kids playing ball in the street, Dobbs pulled out of the nose dive and began, well, kicking complete ass. Though he went 20 for 30 for a measly 158 yards, he tossed two touchdowns (to guys whose names he did not know). He added 66 yards rushing and another TD on the ground. Once he got his sea legs, throughout the second half he looked poised and sharp, using the threat of his running ability to buy time for precise short area passes that slowly matriculated down the field. He capped off this astonishing performance with a 90-second, ice-in-his-veins, come-from-behind game-winning drive that included a heart-stopping fourth and seven conversion where he yanked free of a defender’s grasp and scrambled for the first.
Now, one mustn’t forget that he was facing a Falcons team coached by none other than King Dipshit Artie Smith. Yes, that Arthur Smith – the once-but-no-longer mustachioed Nepo Goober who lives to antagonize the press (and Kurt Warner) and refuses to play his supposed generational talent of an RB because… let’s see…. uh, he hates fantasy football? Thus, it goes without saying that maybe the upcoming teams on the schedule will present more of a challenge to the Dobbs-led Vikings. (Actually, after the Saints in Week 10 they have a very winnable slate of the Broncos, Bears, and Raiders – Go Dobbs Mob!).
So I guess for the foreseeable future the real question for Dobbs is going to be now that he knows everybody’s name and has a basic grasp of the playbook – will that be an advantage or disadvantage? I say, just to be safe, he has to go out there wearing a blindfold, with twenty thumbtacks pressed into the soles of his feet. Kid’s gonna be unstoppable!
“Smell it. Any questions?”
-Uh, apparently professional shitdick Josh McDaniels, according to former Broncos tight end Nate Jackson in Defector.
What is he referring to, you ask? Why, Tom Brady’s unwashed jockstrap, naturally. The one that he stole from the GOAT’s locker during his first stint with the Patriots and carried around in his back pocket at all times. Apparently, McDaniels would throw it at anyone who questioned his football acumen and demand they “smell” it, thus solidifying his, uh, credibility.
Now, truthfully, I think ol’ Nate is shining us on a little bit. He’s giving us an arresting visual metaphor for what a petty, disgusting little toad McDicklehead was. But, I dunno, maybe it’s actually true? In the same blog post Jackson relates numerous other stories about Mr. Beefy Visor Boy, his former coach, and all of them are presented as verifiably true. Joshy McJosh came in as the head coach of the Broncos and turned a well-oiled Mike Shanahan machine into a miserable, dysfunctional dungeon in less than 18 months — all by doing shit like firing running back Peyton Hillis because Jawsh McMotherfucker was convinced his wife was attracted to the poor guy.
Meanwhile, the 2023 Raiders had a joyous, cigar-puffing celebration after drubbing the Giants 30-6 in interim coach Antonio Pierce’s first game. Except everybody knows what the real celebration was about. It’s not hard to beat the Giants, after all. The boys were letting loose because Ding Dong, the Shitdick’s Dead. No more “walking on eggshells everywhere,” declared a grinning, visibly relieved Hunter Renfrow. Said Davante Adams: “You know, we not going to light up cigars every single week, but based off of the changes that were made and the way this team rallied together, it was definitely warranted.” (translation: “Piss off and die in a wet hole, you petty little ratfuck.”)
Supposed offensive mastermind Josh McDickface was not only an appallingly bad playcaller, as a head coach he was just a monumental vibe killer. Mr. Beefy Bumblefuck was nothing more than another joyless Bellichick disciple trying and failing to export the so-called “Patriot Way” – the long-decayed football philosophy based on abject cruelty and mirthlessness, geared toward destroying the players’ spirit and making each day feel like a grueling 18 hour shift in a Siberian ice mine rather than the glorious, fun-loving sport they’ve devoted their lives to. The Patriot Way is the North Korea of football cultures, successful only when driven by The One True Tyrant, Smiling Bill himself. When it’s propagated by eleventh generation photocopy tyrants like McTrashbag and all the other Bellichick toadies, all it does it bring everybody down. Mayor McShithead represents everything terrible about the NFL – petty, weak, tightass, right wing assholery all rolled into one dude with a head so obscenely swollen by roids that it is eventually going to pop, showering bright pink soul-shit all over any unfortunate bystanders who happen to be standingnearby. I hope the bastard falls into an open sewer.
Happy for the Raiders. Time to have fun, take a deep breath, and maybe even win some games before ol’ Chunk Davis hires Coach Prime to drive this franchise right into the molten core of the earth.
Continue reading “ASTRAL GEEKS S09E03: Grit”
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