Homegirl, You are Going to Be So Sorry You Said That.

When I was in college my English professor graced us with this piece of advice. When you write, keep your audience in mind. This advice got me alot of A's on college papers and I've tried to be mindful of who checks out this blog and write posts that I hope you'll find interesting. Today, however, I received a new piece of advice, this time from a friend who we'll call Homegirl. (because I know it will annoy her.) Homegirl assured me that I didn't need to worry about the audience and I should write about whatever I wanted. So you can blame her when you get halfway through this post and start to wonder what the heck I'm talking about. (The answer to what the heck am I talking about will be football by the way.)

I miss football. I was reading over some Buffalo Bills message boards today (that means I was cleaning and taking care of kids if you happen to run into my husband). So in the course of my perusing I found a link to an old playbook for the 1994 Bills. I bookmarked it immediately. I did this because I'm a loser that has every intention of going back and reading through it over and over again until I pretty much have it memorized. By the time I'm done with the playbook I'll be able to step into a huddle and let the team know their assignments, proper terminology and all. I'll be Jim Kelly. Only younger and with bigger boobs, oh and decidedly less male.

In addition to preparing for taking over the QB duties this fall, I read an article about the current QB (Trent Edwards aka the Armenian Superstar) and got to thinking. Alot of people felt that he looked like he was scared to get hit towards the middle of last season. I don't buy this. I think he was trying to adjust his game (how he plays) to not get hit as often rendering him injured and leaving his team in the lurch with the devil at QB (JP Losman and yes, the devil does ride a bike and two is the number souls he stole that day). He was trying to go through his progressions faster (look to each of his options for getting rid of the ball) and trying to make a faster decision and this resulted in his rhythm being thrown off and consequentially not being able to connect with his receivers down the field and he'd dump it off to someone nearby.
I spent at least a solid hour today thinking about this nonsense. So if you think you've suffered by having to read one paragraph let me assure you that I could have gone on and on about this. I didn't. You're welcome. Now sit back and enjoy the above picture of #5. Yes, it is a desperate attempt to make amends with you for writing a blog about sports and not just rambling about how cute the players are. I'm hoping you'll take one look at the beauty that is the Armenian Superstar and forgive me.

6 comments:

The Godfather said...

Yup. Trent looks oh so fine. I forgive you

billsrule69_2004 said...

Wonderful blog,

Just think the year was 1994. The Bills were going to there 4th of four Super Bowls....it was a great year until the end. We had the lead at the half and then of course Thurman fumbles to start the third and the Bills lose 30-13 to the scumbag Dallas Cowboys. I am still bitter. I do love my team though. I believe that in the end I basically inspired this blog. If not for me then she would still be that little girl who watches MTV or whatever on Sundays. Now she is the obsessed fan that I dreamed of marrying with Bigger Boobs than Jim Kelly, the true American Idol.

One more thing. Happy Birthday to the sexiest man in the world
http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3232/2367218375_df1718c14b.jpg

Boy what I would do for a date with him!

Punk said...

What kind of sister am I that Coach's comment tickled me more than Missy's blog?

You are one loved woman, that's for certain.

One question though: What would Coach do for a date with our zexy vamp boy?

Dione said...

I know nothing about football, but I do know a little something about hot and that boy is HOT! No wonder you like football!

Punk said...

Amen, Dione!

Missy said...

Yes, he's only one of the many reasons to love football.