12 December 2010

Still On The Team--For Now

Dear Graham Gano,

I generally catch a lot of flack for how I treat Redskins kickers in my letters which I've never understood because LOOK AT YOU GUYS.  I really thought that anyone was better than Shaun "Shortbus" Suisham as evidenced by my many poetic overtures saying that almost word for word, but you're forcing me to reconsider.  I don't appreciate being forced to do anything (just ask Redskins Dad how long I stood next to his chair, refusing to swallow a mouthful of green beans last week when I was a toddler--I dare ya) and I especially don't like thinking about Shaun Suisham, even for purposes of comparison.  It makes my tummy hurt.

But sometimes a girl has to get a hot cup of tea and some crackers and calm her stomach enough to make a few comparisons.  It's called taking one for the team, which you might be unfamiliar with because of how many field goals you miss on a weekly basis.  That's called not being a team player, jerk-who-I-hate.  Prior to today's game, you had missed nine of twenty-nine field goals, ranking you 36th in the NFL.  THIRTY-SIXTH!  THE NFL ONLY HAS THIRTY-TWO TEAMS!  Don't expect your ranking to get much better after today.

I'm also disappointed because your birthday is the day (and a few years) after mine and you were born in Scotland, which makes you seriously cooler than Shaun "I-hail-from-the-Great-White-North-eh?" Suisham.  Yeah, yeah, he sucked pretty badly and you'll never get me to say otherwise, but you're still worse because you're still on the team.  For now.

You've been (kind of) warned,

Karen

1 comment:

Bears Drunk said...

This past Sunday was a travesty. The memories are a little hazy, but I remember the shocking waves of disappointment shortly before I blacked out.

When I lifted my face from the table at Buffalo Wild Wings, there was a $400 bar tab glued to my face with Hot BBQ sauce. My fingers were clutched around a tall and empty glass. My arm was outlined by expensive shots, most of which were taken by me. I was then informed by the uniformed officer standing by the table that I was asked to pay my tab and vacate the premises, not to return for at least one week.

"Did the Packers lose, at least?" I asked the man as I laid out an absurd number of singles from a previous night's debauchery as tip.

The man looked at me over the lenses of his mirrored sunglasses and said, "Yes, Bears Drunk, they did."

Next Sunday's another day. In the meantime, pray for wildcards. And pray your team doesn't disappoint you into a alcohol-fueled blackout.