The Beauty Of The Post-Coital Super Bowl Afterglow

Drew Magary's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs every Thursday during the NFL season. Buy Drew's book, The Postmortal, through here. Find more of his stuff at his Twitter feed. Photo illustration by Jim Cooke. Photo by Kzenon/Shutterstock.

One of the great things about watching a fantastic sporting event is the lingering high you get from it afterward. I had a hard time getting to sleep after the Super Bowl on Sunday. This was mostly because I was full of pulled pork and M&M's, but it was also because the game had firmly occupied my imagination. A good game can do that. You watch it, and then you spend time thinking back on it: every great play, every crucial moment, every time they showed that really fat lady (?) standing behind Belichick. Does anyone NORMAL stand behind head coaches anymore? I also spent a lot of time thinking about WHAT IT ALL MEANT. I processed all the dipshit sports fan arguments in my head that were the direct result of that outcome: whether or not Eli was a Hall of Famer, whether or not Tom Brady was finished, whether or not the Giants could win another title next season, etc.

That's what I'm gonna miss about the NFL now that it's been locked away for yet another interminable offseason. I'm gonna miss that euphoric feeling that carries you over from one weekend of games to the next, all the bullshit psychobabble that adds extra layers of meaning on top each successive game, culminating in a Super Bowl that means EVERYTHING. I'm gonna miss the afterglow. Now that football is gone, there's this gaping mental void in my head. No more figuring out fantasy implications. No more envisioning playoff scenarios. That's all over. My imagination is gonna STARVE. I hate it. February is here and it feels like death. Why you gotta leave me so cold and alone like this, NFL? I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING GOOD GOING.

So anyway, let's turn out the lights on the Jamboroo. Here we go.

The Games
No more games. BOOOOOOOOOOOO. We move onto the random crap:

• My wife went to a deli in town a few weeks back and she got a hot Italian sub. She brought it home, unwrapped it, and took it down in a matter of minutes. I got one bite in before it was gone, and her enthusiasm was legit. It was AWESOME. So she went back to the deli the next week and got another. Then she brought it home. Only this time, she didn't finish it.

ME: What's wrong? Thought you loved that sub.

HER: Eh. It's not as good as it was the first time I had it.

ME: Oh my God.

HER: What?

ME: You're chasing the DRAGON.

HER: I'm what?

ME: You're trying to recreate your first experience with that sandwich, only you've come to realize that you will NEVER be able to have that kind of sandwich high again. YOU ARE CHASING THE SANDWICH DRAGON.

HER: You're weird.

There's nothing worse than chasing a food dragon. When you have something tasty and then it's not as good the next time, even though you immortalized it in your food spank bank... so tragic.

• I wish a safety counted as a turnover. If anything, it should count as TWO turnovers, because you gave possession of the ball to the other team and they milked you for two points in the process. Tom Brady's stat line from the Super Bowl should read:

27/41 276 yds 2 TD 1 INT 1 WHORING

• I went to go eat chicken & waffles when I was in North Carolina at Dame's Chicken & Waffles. I have never had chicken & waffles before, because I'm a filthy Yankee. So I went in to the restaurant (I was the only white person in the joint) and I asked the waiter the protocol for eating chicken and waffles.

ME: So you put syrup on all of it?

HIM: Right.

ME: Syrup AND hot sauce?

HIM: I do just syrup, but lots of people do syrup and hot sauce.

ME: And you eat it all together? That's fucking wild!

HIM: It's good, man. You'll like it.

So he goes away to put in my order and then he comes back.

HIM: You know, we get a lot of people in here who are new to this whole combination.

ME: White people.

HIM: Yep. And some of them are really taken aback by the whole idea of it.

ME: They're actually OFFENDED by people eating chicken and waffles together?

HIM: Yeah.

I immediately pictured a group of Fred Phelps protesters hanging outside the restaurant, protesting chicken-and-waffle civil unions. By the way, the food was delicious.

• I went to the gym the other day and when I went to the locker room and opened up my bag, I realized that I had forgotten my shorts. DAGGER. That's the one item you can't forget when you go to the gym. You can forget your t-shirt and just use the one you have on. You can forget your socks and just use the pair you have on. But you can't work out in your underwear, unless you feel like being arrested. I really didn't want to go all the way back home, so I went up to the front desk.

ME: Hey, I forgot my shorts. Do you guys have any shorts I can, like, borrow?

LADY: Uh... (rummages around, pulls up pair of used black shorts) We have these.

ME: Perfect! I'll take them!

LADY: I don't know who they're from. Or if they're clean.

ME: That's okay! I have NO shame.

LADY: Are you sure?

ME: Yep!

So I grabbed them and started walking away. Then I turned back to her.

ME: Oh, do you want these back when I'm done with them?

LADY: Noooooooooooooooo.

ME: Okay!

So I went and threw the shorts on and went about my business. I think the lady at the counter was completely disgusted by my actions. But I got the last laugh. Using a stranger's shorts produced no scrotal fungus of any kind! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

• I flew Virgin America a few weeks back, and that airline is fucking HILARIOUS. They outfitted the plane like a nightclub, with purple lights and black leather seats. I expected Jean-Ralphio from "Parks & Rec" to sit next to me. They even played techno in the bathroom. I was stunned that the in-seat concierge service didn't offer some sort of bathroom escort service. If you're the kind of person who actually reads the gift guides in GQ, you should fly that airline.

• I love batted balls. That's one of the most enjoyable plays in football, when you're defensive lineman goes up and rejects the shit out of that pass. Because not only does it lift the pass interference rule and allow the guys in coverage to forcibly assault receivers, but it also negates ANY hope of the pass being completed. When you watch your team playing defense, there's always that terrible moment in between the QB releasing the ball and what happens at the other end. There's that feeling of dread that the pass will be complete and that everything will SUCK. A batted ball usually eliminates that suspense entirely. Ball batted. Down over. Just like that. If I could pay $100 before the season to ensure that my team would bat down at least five balls per game, I'd pay it.

• My computer was slow the other day and I had to reboot it in order to clear out the cobwebs, but I couldn't bring myself to stop being online for that long. It takes roughly 70 seconds to reboot this computer. And yet, I couldn't tear myself away for even that long. I'm fucking pathetic.

Super Bowl pick: 1-0 (1-0 vs. the spread)
2011 Playoff picks: 7-4 (3-8 vs. the spread).

Brick Wall Song For The Offseason

"Nothin's Gonna Stop Us," by the Darkness. The REUNITED Darkness! BOOSH! Reader Kyle alerted me to the new video, and it's chock full of Darknessy goodness. He's playing a guitar while RIDING on a giant guitar. That is NONE MORE GUITAR. I'm very pleased to have The Darkness back in my life, even if their Super Bowl ad was terrible.

Embarrassing Song I Once Liked That Will Not Fire You Up

"In The Waiting Line," by Zero 7. This was the song they used in Garden State, a movie I fucking hated. Neither the song nor the movie have aged all that well. They used to play the Zero 7 album at my office on a continual loop. The first time I heard it, I thought it was pretty cool. By the time I had heard it 80 times in the span of two days, I was less enthused.

Gregg Easterbrook Is A Haughty Dipshit

The Beauty Of The Post-Coital Super Bowl Afterglow

Look at all the NON GLORY BOYEEE TYPES that performed in the Super Bowl! Greggg is making the pages of his library-issued copy of The Economist stick together just thinking about it.

Eleven undrafted free agents started in the Super Bowl, versus 10 first-round draft choices... No first-round draft choice scored a touchdown.

Unless you count Eli Manning, who was a No. 1 overall pick and managed to throw a touchdown pass and win the game's MVP award. I think it's pretty clear that if you want to win a Super Bowl in today's NFL, you better be stacked to the rafters with undrafted players. Like an Arena League team! They'd do real good in the NFL!

Over recent seasons, Tuesday Morning Quarterback has proposed on several occasions that the football gods will punish Bill Belichick until he admits Spygate was cheating, as opposed to maintaining his actions merely were a misunderstanding of league rules.

And now that Belichick has lost two straight Super Bowls, I think we can all agree that football outcomes are clearly the result of intelligent design, and that God rewards the undrafted and punishes those who dare cross TMQ's lofty ethical standards. Please note that Greggggg spent a great deal of his column talking about the role that luck plays in close outcomes, and then pisses all that logic away by declaring that luck is controlled by his non-Jew SkyJesus.

In other news, TMQ has discovered, long before the mass media caught onto it, that cop shows are formulaic and unrealistic.

Not content with imaginary technology, some procedurals give detectives superpowers. "Millennium" featured a cop who could read minds; the protagonist of "Life on Mars" was a detective who traveled in time; "Tru Calling" starred a medical examiner who could bring the dead back to life temporarily; "Unforgettable" centers on a detective who has total recall and extremely acute senses.

Who knew those four CLASSIC shows would prove to have fatal flaws? I'm glad that Gregg is here to point out all the plot holes in Tru Calling. That's so relevant to our world today. Reader Yannai would like to note:

4249 words. This is how many words Gregg Easterbrook spent on discussing police dramas TWO DAYS AFTER THE SUPER BOWL! This guy gave more thought to Hawaii Five-0 than he did to analyzing the freaking Super Bowl.

Those 4,249 words include both a 15-point formula for police shows, along with a 16-point addendum to his original 15-point formula. It's official: Gregg Easterbrook IS Dr. Phillip Barbay. What else chafes you about TV shows, Gregg?

Another running subplot is the malevolence of the media, which in procedurals always take the side of criminals. The media is on the side of criminals — have the scriptwriters heard of Fox News?

I know! there's no more anti-crime network than Fox News, unless the crime in question is a Republican senator trying to solicit a blowjob.

The Super Bowl was the second-best football game your columnist has attended, trailing only the first Giants-Patriots Super Bowl. Actually third-best — Bowdoin 21, Bates 20 on my oldest son's Senior Day was the second-best game I have attended.

MY YOUNG SPENSER WAS NESCAC MATERIAL, I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW.

TMQ's MVP vote went to Jersey/A guard Chris Snee...

Because I needed to mix things up from picking linemen at random. Right, David Diehl?

...who blocked efficiently and recovered a fourth-quarter fumble on one of the Lady Luck plays where, had the ball bounced slightly differently, Boston might be holding another victory parade. Plus the sight of Snee's wife and children racing onto the field to embrace him as the confetti fell was a pleasant one.

Oh, he hugged his wife and kid after the game? GIVE THIS MAN AN MVP AWARD. A glory boy would be celebrating with a bottle of St. Idaho's and a legion of baby mommers!

And now, time for TMQ's annual, repugnant ritual of telling you to go to church.

As usual, I recommend you employ the offseason to engage in spiritual growth. Take long walks. Exercise more and eat less. Perform volunteer work. Appreciate the beauty of nature. Attend worship services of any faith. Read, mediate, serve others.

PUKE. Here is what Gregg is saying when he pens this dogshit: "Here are all the things I do that make me a wonderful person. You should do them too!" GODFREY DANIEL, MAKE HIM GO AWAY.

Nazi Shark Is Dead

The Beauty Of The Post-Coital Super Bowl Afterglow

Well, it's been a week, and I can tell you there was a massive outpouring of grief for Nazi Shark. There were literally A FEW people on Twitter who paid their respects. I'm sure Rolf would have been touched, and then accused you of harboring Jews. Nazi Shark's final record for this season was 10-10 (1-3 playoffs). Looking back, he was a pretty horrible gambler. I can only hope Stalinist Stygimoloch will fare better.

Great Moments In Centipede Killing History
Reader D. Clements sends in this story I call CENTIBLEED.

My wife and I just bought a new house and so naturally, about two weeks in, I'm in the unfinished basement putting up shelving on the rafters to appease the nagging, lovely wife. The basement ceiling is about 10 feet high, and the only ladder I need is one of those step ladders, with two easy steps that lift you about 3 feet off the ground. In the basement, immediately after I reached the second step, I knew I was in for a gongshow of a night. Nearly every inch of the ceiling was covered with a threatening combination of pregnant spiders, bugs, and worse.

Assuming you have seen the exploding spider video that makes you question our reason for living, you are aware of the danger I was in as pregnant spider after pregnant spider were appearing ABOVE ME before my eyes. Equipped with a lone hammer, this soon became the smashing pregnant spiders game (literally every spider was bursting at the seams, I wonder if "spider mating season" is a real thing). Obviously, I was taking a huge risk here, but the spiders were slower than they usually are, (just imagine a person running full speed and then that same person running full speed carrying hundreds of babies inside of them). This was fun for me, obviously. If you have never heard the sound of a pregnant spider getting crushed by the sound of a hammer, swung at full speed, you really haven't lived.

Standing at 6 feet + 3 feet ladder height, I a foot from the ceiling, smashing spiders with every swing. After a while, however, I feel the game is about over, and my delight is waning. But, just like in every video game or action movie you have ever seen, this was just the calm before the storm, the lull before the final boss. As I am ready to go upstairs and shower off all the unborn white spider goo that is everywhere, I see something behind me out of the corner of my eye. Still up at around 9 feet on the ladder, I look over my left shoulder and see a full grown centipede.

This centipede was 2.5 inches long and it was thick. A huge, girthy motherfucker. It's about a foot and a half from my face and for an instant we locked eyes and froze. The remainder of the story happened in one full second. We lock eyes and the fat bastard took off like a lightning bolt to the wall (if he gets to the wall, he goes through a crack and is free). If you don't know how fast a full grown centipede is, it's really, really fast. From Wikipedia: "They are very fast creatures". Mind you I had been beating the puss out of spiders all night that could barely walk, let alone run. This centipede dashed to the wall, about 5 feet away from victory. In that moment, I leaped sideways off the ladder after the beast, and while in midair, twisted my body left and swung the hammer at the rafters with everything I had left. The head of the hammer came down flush, directly in the center of the monster, not but 3 inches from safety. It was a once in a lifetime play, one that I couldn't replicate one out of 100 times again if I tried. It really was the greatest athletic achievement of my life.

Fire This Asshole!
Looks like we're all out of firings for this season. But just look at the potential firings in store for next year!

• Andy Reid
• Norv Turner
• Leslie Frazier
• Jason Garrett
• Mike Shanahan
• Chan Gailey
• Rex Ryan
• Gary Kubiak
• Romeo Crennel
• Lovie Smith
• Mike Smith
• Ken Whisenhunt
• Marvin Lewis
• Pete Carroll

I think we'd all be very excited to see the first two names on that list finally get their just desserts. It WILL happen. I know you fans in San Diego and Philly think it will never happen, but it has to one day! Maybe they'll die or something!

Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
WELKAHHHHHHHHH! Seriously though, I'd like to thank Welker for dropping that pass and allowing the Giants to make the end of the game fun to watch. If the Pats had won that game 24-15, I would have thrown my chili pot through a window.

Offseason Snack Of The Week

The Beauty Of The Post-Coital Super Bowl Afterglow

Hush puppies! It's a slipper! It's a piece of fried cornbread! It's a slipper AND a piece of fried cornbread! I like to pretend I'm biting into a fried human testicle whenever I eat one. SO EXOTIC.

Offseason Cheap Beer Of The Week

The Beauty Of The Post-Coital Super Bowl Afterglow

THIRSTY BEAVER! Reader Joe sends in this filthy brew from Whistler, BC:

This beaver may be thirsty if it was drinking goat piss. This swill was low in price and in drinkability. I'd recommend it to a guy like Peter King, just a terrible brew.

But what a can! I MUST HAVE IT. "Bursting with flavour," eh? I hope that Beaver isn't a squirter!

Robert Evans' Super Bowl MVP Watch!
Time for legendary Hollywood producer Robert Evans to award the Super Bowl MVP. Take it away, Mr. Evans.

The Beauty Of The Post-Coital Super Bowl Afterglow

"Baby, the Super Bowl MVP this year was... Eli Manning of the Giants! Well, that wraps up another football season for me. Time to repair to Woodland for the spring and summer. Tennis with Hoffman? YOU BET! Orgies with Beatty? WE HAVE ONE SCHEDULED FOR MARCH 8TH. Of course, Nicholson will also be around, lighting money on fire and chasing the help with a golf club. What a cad! I may even take in a Clippers game or two. I hear they're FABULOUS. Did you know I once saw Donald Sterling murder an entire family of Peruvians? True story. And it didn't look like it the first time he had done that. He looked like a veteran of the process."

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Everyone

The Conversation. Everyone has their "great movie they've never seen" movie, and this one was one of mine. But I finally watched it a week ago and crossed it off my list. It's AWESOME. Plus it features a young Harrison Ford, back when he gave a shit! It also features some classic '70s nudity, when ladies had poofy hair and natural boobies and NEVER wore bras. Tremendous fun. If you're like me and somehow let The Conversation slip by, I can't recommend it strongly enough. I feel good knowing that I've finished the entire John Cazale canon.

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
"Sorry, Bart. Your dad kind of blew the fantasy. I only like it when I'm pretend-scared."

Enjoy the offseason, everyone. See you back here for the Draft Jamboroo in April. I encourage you to spend your offseason pursuing spiritual growth: drinking beer, slapping penguins, and pooping on rooftops.