Drew Magary's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs every Thursday during the NFL season.
The Eagles have lost seven games in a row and it's only a matter of time now before poor Andy Reid gets the boot (and lights out for beautiful San Diego, soon to lead the world in suicides per capita). For any Eagles fan, the end can't come soon enough. You've all been waiting patiently for YEARS to finally see Reid get shitcanned, and now the moment is finally going to arrive. YOU SHOULD HANG STOCKINGS AND FILL THEM WITH BEEF. It's up to owner Jeff Lurie and his weird hair to decide when Andy goes, and radio host Steve Czaban and I were trying to figure out whether it's better to shitcan a coach midseason, or whether or not you wait it out until the bitter end to make your move. Here are the mitigating factors when deciding to terminate with extreme prejudice:
1. Interim coaches are all horrible.
There's no magic turnaround waiting for you when you promote an interim head coach. You're getting a Rick Venturi, or a Dave McGinnis, or someone else who at best will help you close out a horrible season with your head down and your dignity intact. You aren't getting a miracle worker. In fact, there hasn't been a truly decent interim head coach since Marty Schottenheimer took over the Browns in 1984 (I'm not gonna include Colts interim head coach Bruce Arians in this argument, because it's such a wildly different circumstance. I'm sure Terry Robiskie would have won at least one extra game if Norv Turner had come down with Legionnaire's disease). And in the case of the Eagles, your interim head coach would be Marty Mornhinweg. OH DEAR CHRIST NO. Marty Mornhinweg is Andy Reid without the charm.
You also don't want to become too attached to your interim head coach. Ask Cowboys and Chiefs fans how they feel about interim coaches being given permanent jobs. You never want to fall in love with Jason Garrett. Mmm. Yes. Indeed. He and his eating club chums will ultimately ruin you. Any interim head coach can eke out a couple of surprise wins thanks to easy scheduling and players suddenly motivated now that people are getting fired. Those Dead Team Bounce wins are an illusion, just like Crennel's inspirational win against the Packers last season. Crennel was hired almost exclusively on the basis of that one game, and it has set the Chiefs back YEARS as a result. So the idea of Mornhinweg pulling out a "miracle" win against some coasting team down the stretch and flipping it into a real job is enough to make anyone terrified.
2. Firing your head coach leaves your team dangerously shorthanded.
Back in 2005, Vikings owner Red McCombs refused to give head coach Mike Tice enough money to hire an offensive coordinator. Tice was forced to make Steve Loney pull double duty as OC and O-line coach. The Vikings finished 25th in offense that year. It may seem as if NFL coaching staffs are hilariously bloated, but the truth is that a team is really dicked over when coaches have to handle a million things at once. The Eagles already fired their defensive coordinator, so firing Reid now would leave them without two of their top three coaches for the end of the season. They'd be fucked.
3. But hey, who said losing every game down the stretch was a bad thing?
Honestly, there's no point in a team like the Eagles trying to recover to go 8-8 at this point. There's nothing to be taken from that shit except a lousy draft pick. Leaving your team in the hands of an overmatched interim coach for the final five games could be a subtle but effective way of deliberately going into the shitter and getting yourself a top-five draft choice. Then again, maybe the team would play BETTER with a new guy in charge. That happens a lot in football. The head coach gets shitcanned and then players are like, "Oh, thank God he's gone. NOW I CAN TRY!" Sometimes, you want to mail it in so that you can turn around and draft Cam Newton.
4. Whoever coaches your team right now isn't anywhere near as important as who will be coaching them next year.
I suppose it isn't ethical for NFL teams to negotiate with future head coaches while they already have one in place (why, Gregggg says that's WEASEL COACH behavior!), but NFL teams ignore decorum all the time. I'm sure Jon Gruden has eaten 500 secret dinners with GMs over the past four years (THIS SOUP... YOU TALK ABOUT A SOUP THAT WANTS TO COMPETE!). Owners don't really give a shit about the feelings of a man they're about to cut loose. But firing a head coach immediately does give you the freedom to negotiate more openly with other coaches, perhaps even hiring one by season's end. And hiring a coach early is critical so that he can put a staff together. The Raiders are always the last team to hire a head coach, and that's how they end up with Motel 8 managers working the coordinator slots. You need to get the new coach into place immediately, so that he can poach assistants from various pro and college teams with impunity.
5. "I just can't look at his stupid fucking face for one more second."
There's something to be said for moving on as quickly as possible, cleaning out the old dogshit and giving people hope RIGHT NOW that something better is on the way. And keeping the current head coach in place means that he'll keep trying to win with the same washed-up players he's currently using. Even though Nick Foles is one goofy-looking human being, I don't see any value in putting Mike Vick back in the lineup unless it's to help get Andy Reid two more wins that no one could possibly give a shit about more than Andy Reid. Every coach has his time, and Reid's time came well before now. The Eagles are long overdue to fire him and give poor Daulerio his satisfaction. Because there's never a bad time to fire your head coach, especially a shitty one.
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.
Giants at Redskins: I was watching the Giants play the Packers on Sunday night and Lifetime was airing Liz & Dick at the same time. And everyone on Twitter was yammering on about it, so I flipped over to watch it for six seconds before switching back. And reader @joey0314 said this was a direct result of Twitter peer pressure, which is true. TWITTER PEER PRESSURE IS TOTALLY REAL. I never would have given a shit about the US women's soccer team losing to Japan if stupid Twitter hadn't goaded me into watching. I'm telling you, if Twitter told me to go jump off a radio tower, I would. I GOTTA SEE WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT, GUYS.
Saints at Falcons: I can't believe it: this Thursday night game is actually good. Mike Mayock's lisp has never been so excited.
Steelers at Ravens: I'm sure Ravens fans already were aware of this, but all of you need to know about the existence of Ed Hardy energy sticks, which are a real thing.
I saw these at the 7-11 the other day when I was buying pork cracklins and I almost bought a package just to see what it would do to me. I bet it gives you the energy to SLAY over a hundred pussies, bro!
Bucs at Broncos: There's a service in my neighborhood called Doody Calls, and what the folks at Doody Calls do is they come and clean up your dog's shit off your lawn for you. Apart from extremely elderly people, I can't even imagine who would need this service. Are you really so goddamn lazy that you'll just let your dog shit all over your lawn for a week and then pay some other guy $100 to come clean it up? What kind of filthy animal are you? I'm gonna follow that truck around and make a blacklist of every home that employs this service. I ain't going to any cocktail party at a house like that.
Seahawks at Bears: I can't believe more players haven't been busted for Adderall. It's a study aid, and there's nothing more boring that studying tape. Five seconds into studying tape, your eyelids begin leaking rubber cement. It's awful. If I were a head coach, I'd give ALL my players Adderall so that they could memorize coverages and learn new formations in a snap. I bet Belichick spikes every Gatorade cooler with it.
Colts at Lions: I was staying at my folks' house for Thanksgiving and the house was fairly packed. So whenever I went to sleep, people would inevitably wake up in the middle of the night and I could hear it. I could hear footsteps out in the hallways and coming from the floor above, and I always wanted to know WHY someone was up. Was it a child going to the bathroom? Did someone get up to sneak a line of cocaine? Was it just my dad going to get a snack? Are my parents having sex? Please tell me my parents aren't having sex. I would pay good money to ensure absolute nighttime silence on all big family get-togethers. I don't like speculating.
Patriots at Dolphins: Every time a player gets his head crushed out on the field and then returns to action, the announcer will now tell you that he went through the NFL's concussion protocol. I know that this protocol is uniform, and that they ask players all the tough concussion questions ("Who are you? Who am I? Are you Batman?"), but there's no way that anyone, even a doctor, can instantly assess a player's brain with that much confidence. The NFL has that protocol in place so that they can TELL you they went through the protocol, so that you don't have to worry about poor Johnny's brain being nuked into mush. But we already know that concussion damage is far more insidious and long-term than this. So don't try to tell me that everything is hunky dory now that the protocol has been followed. You may as well just say, "Well, we covered OUR ass. Back to the game!"
Vikings at Packers: Mason Crosby looks like an angry drinker. I bet he hits people for no reason.
Niners at Rams: I've decided that, this postseason, I'm gonna root for anyone but the Harbaughs. They're horrible. Every time they cut to Jim Harbaugh or John Harbaugh on the sidelines, they act as if the whole fucking world just conspired to kill their children. It gets tiring. I want Harbaugh's face to spontaneously explode out on the sidelines. I want the ref to blow an inadvertent whistle and then watch Harbaugh's head swell with blood before bursting and sending bits of brain matter and eyeball fluid all over everyone. That would make me happy.
Texans at Titans: I ate so much at Thanksgiving that I became too full to parent. My kids starting fighting after dinner and all I could do was sit there, drunk with turkey grease seeping out of my skin, and be like, "Can you people please fight in another room? Daddy's about to die." I think I even tried doing a pushup at one point. Ever eat a horrible meal and then do one token exercise to give yourself the illusion that you worked it all off? OK, I did my pushup. That's should burn the 3,000 calories I just consumed.
Bengals at Chargers
Eagles at Cowboys
Jaguars at Bills
Browns at Raiders: I find the Al Davis flame at Oakland Coliseum disturbing. I know he's alive in that fire somehow. Every time they light it, it gives his black soul a chance to escape and enter the mouth of some unsuspecting bystander. THEY ARE PRACTICING BLACK ARTS RIGHT UNDER OUR NOSES.
Cardinals at Jets
Panthers at Chiefs
"Alchemy of the Black Sun Cult," by Goatwhore.
Reader Matthew says:
I suggest Goatwhore for your pregame song. I see Jim's offering of 'crust punk' from the other week and raise him 'Louisiana sludge metal'. Also, their fucking name is Goatwhore.
True that. Can't go wrong with the name Goatwhore. That goat had it coming.
Lots of sports sites, to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of gambling, like to have animals and random celebrities pick games to see if they can outwit their expert counterparts. There's no reason we at Deadspin can't also get in on the fun. So we've asked a fictionalized, Nazi version of popular sportswriter Bill Simmons to pick one game a week for us. Take it away, Nazi Simmons.
"This week, I like the Bucs getting 7 points on the road against the Broncos. Terrible line. Someone in Vegas was probably busy watching Homeland when they let that one pass through. Don't they know that Josh Freeman improved this year just to spite me and my picks?
"By the way, the reason I love Homeland is because it makes women look like insane whores. You didn't see any women occupying important positions in the Reichstag, did you? Of course not. I've always argued that the NBA should scrap the WNBA and make all of its players fight to the death over NBA All-Star Weekend. Winner gets her head dunked into a toilet by Rocco Siffredi. WHO WOULD BE AGAINST THIS?"
2012 Nazi Simmons record: 5-6
Ryan Mathews. Holy shit, Ryan Mathews hates scoring touchdowns. I would just like it noted that Ryan Mathews will NEVER be awesome. Ever. What you see with Ryan Mathews right now—a bland running back who gets a hurt a lot—is what he will be FOREVER. He is not magically gonna become LDT next season. Especially if Reid is the next coach. God, can you imagine that? Mathews would get 20 carries all season if that happened.
Greggggggg is already on record as being the only person alive who likes the '72 Dolphins. So I think you can guess his stance on Notre Dame football.
There is general excitement that Notre Dame will play for the BCS title. Tuesday Morning Quarterback certainly is on the bandwagon.
Of course you are. NO GLORY BOYS TO BE HAD ON THAT SQUAD. But wait, wait a moment. Isn't ND head coach Brian Kelly a weaselly weasel coach? Let's check the TMQ archives:
Brian Kelly joins the cavalcade of weasel coaches, walking out on Cincinnati the month before the school's biggest bowl game. TMQ's immutable Law of Weasels holds: When you hire a coach who's only in it for himself, you get a coach who's only in it for himself. Kelly walked out on his commitments just before the monster bowl game his players worked so hard to reach and that meant so much to the school... Notre Dame, that's the kind of person you want running your program?
Indeed. How dare Brian Kelly take another job? In TMQ's world, an honorable man holds the same job FOREVER and never leaves. That's why you are a disgrace for leaving that delivery gig at Little Caesars you got when you were 17, dear reader.
The mix of Notre Dame's place in football lore, its standing as an academic institution and its Irish traditions has broad appeal, including to those who are not Irish.
So true. It's the school of choice for wannabe Irishmen. And who doesn't love those guys on St. Patrick's Day, when they walk around in green hats, listen to the Dropkick Murphys, and punch your sister in the tits?
Don't take this personally, SEC, but much of the nation, if not much of the world, will be rooting against you on Jan. 7.
The fuck are you talking about? I hope the SEC takes Notre Dame behind a woodshed and fists it in both eye sockets. I would root for Chris Brown if he were facing Notre Dame. But no no no, I'm sure THE WORLD will totally be on the side of the Irish. Little kids in Pakistan can't get enough of "wake up the echoes." And don't forget the aliens! The first thing I want to ask them is how excited they are for a Catholic school to be playing for the national title.
There's an important aspect of the Notre Dame season that is being overlooked.
Sounds like someone in the GLAMOURBUCKS MEDIA has once again ignored the most important stories in the universe.
Taking into account the latest NCAA graduation stats, last week Notre Dame became the first college football team to be ranked No. 1 in the polls and No. 1 in graduation success.
OMG OMG OMG OMG! It's like a whole TEAM of Ryan Fitzpatricks! Kudos to Notre Dame for graduating players, many of whom probably majored in Lunch.
Notre Dame's polls-and-academics double is so spectacular, why isn't the sports world buzzing about it?
Because the Jews don't want you to know that football and higher learning really can go hand in hand!
When Stanford and Virginia Tech met in the 2010 Orange Bowl, that contest featured the highest combined football graduation rates in BCS annals. So far as I am aware, only TMQ highlighted this.
And in fact, Gregggggg noted it 14 years before the game was played.
Last week's picks of the Cincinnati, Denver, and Chicago went 3-0, putting me at 28-8 for the season. Again we pick three teams for your suicide pool and something that makes you want to commit suicide. This week, the picks are Dallas, Buffalo, San Francisco, and any highway exit that does not offer a clear entrance back onto the freeway. I was driving with my wife and kids and had to stop to piss, but there wasn't enough time to consult the phone for the optimal stop. I had to choose at random, and that will always come back to fuck you in the ass. I got off somewhere in Jersey where the fucking road didn't let me back onto the highway. You listen to me, person who designed the layout of Paramus, New Jersey—YOU GO TO HELL. Anyone who designs a highway exit like that should be strapped to a rocket and blasted into space. AND NO, THERE IS NO CLEAR WAY BACK HOME. Not so fun when it happens to you, eh? Fuckers.
Reader Kepler sends in this horrifying story:
A few years ago I was living with my cousin in a basement suite. One morning I was leaving my house by the back way and there was this giant crow lying at the bottom of a small set of stairs. It was lying on its back and kind of moving its head back and forth. Kind of like a half passed out homeless guy. I thought nothing of it and went to work, figuring the neighbourhood cats would come and take care of business.
When I came home 8 hours later, the thing was still lying there, still moving its head back and forth, presumably dying and in a lot of pain. I went inside and told my cousin we had to put this thing out of its misery. We tried to get his little brother into it too, but he wasn't having it. We went outside and both found some big ass rocks.
The crow was lying at the bottom of about three stairs, and you could stand on the grass along the side of the stairs and just chuck the rocks straight down onto it. Me and him Ching Chang Pushed (paper scissor rock in Vancouver). He lost, which meant he would throw his rock first. I remember hearing this really loud boom when he threw his, which I guess means he missed. Without even really looking I picked up my rock over my head and threw it as hard as I could down on this bird. I swear it made the most disgusting sound I've ever heard. A horrible squishy, crunchy sound.
Worse than that was that this bird also exploded shit everywhere as soon as the rock hit it. There was shit on the stairs, on our garage, on our driveway, though amazingly none on us.
We ching chang pushed again, and my cousin lost again, so he had to pick up the smashed, shit exploding crow, and put it in the garbage can. Then we went inside and played wii.
I still sometimes think about the crow... having to take a dump so bad that you can't do anything but lie there all day, then some guy comes along and throws a rock at your stomach and you die exploding shit everywhere. Pretty bad way to go..
I want to know more about this Ching Chang Push thing. Sounds incredibly racist.
Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? All year long, we'll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year's end or sooner. And now, your potential 2012 chopping block:
• Norv Turner*
• Mike Munchak
• Chan Gailey
• Jason Garrett
• Rex Ryan*
• Romeo Crennel*
• Pat Shurmur*
• Ron Rivera
• Andy Reid*
• Dennis Allen
• Jim Schwartz
• Ken Whisenhunt
(*-possible midseason firing)
Dennis Allen was a long overdue addition here. I like that Al Davis died and seemingly nothing has changed about the Raiders' ability to suck. I blame the flame. THE FLAME IS RUNNING EVERYTHING.
Baba ghanoush! King of all ghanoushes! One time I was working in an office when my boss bought a shitload of store-brand baba ghanoush and put it in the fridge. So around 3 p.m., I ambled over and started going to town on one of the containers. I nearly licked the thing clean. And then my boss came over.
ME: This baba ghanoush is fantastic.
BOSS: Yeah, but it's terrible for you.
ME: What are you talking about? It's just eggplant. It's way healthy.
BOSS: No way, there's a ton of mayonnaise in there.
I looked on the side of the container and, sure as shit, I saw the word MAYONNAISE in big fat horrible letters. I reacted as if I'd been shot.
ME: The fuck is mayo doing in this?! OH GOD IT'S INSIDE ME NOW. I CAN FEEL IT COATING MY ESOPHAGUS GAHHHHHHHHH!
Most recipes for baba ghanoush don't have mayo, but this one did. FUCK YOU, BIG MAYO. You have ruined traditional Middle Eastern dips for me forever.
Antarctica! Reader Rip sends in this shitty beer from Brazil:
Tastes like what I imagine the weakly carbonated product of the penguin lovers featured prominently on the front would taste like. For the record, I drank two.
I hope all of their advertising is centered around being really cold. I bet this is the Coors Light of Brazil. The penguin turns blue when it's time to drink! DEVO TÊ-LO.
Time to start thinking about who the leaders will be for the NFL's MVP award. So every week, legendary Hollywood producer Robert Evans will join us to give us his assessment. Take it away, Mr. Evans.
"Baby, my favorite for NFL MVP is Aldon Smith of the Niners! I see that new movie about Hitchcock is coming out this week. Well, let me tell you about the real Alfred Hitchcock. Brilliant? YOU BET? An affinity for pre-teen girls? ABSOLUTELY. I remember staying with him one rainy night in London, 1973. We were sharing brandy and cigars in his parlor and all these little 14-year-old girls were running around. And I said to Hitch, 'Wow baby, you've got a lot of granddaughters!' And he just laughed and laughed for 10 straight minutes. Didn't say a word. Then he scratched himself. It was scary as hell.
"Then the 'Cock got out of his director's chair (he sat in a director's chair even when he wasn't on the set; an assistant told me he would break two of them a day), dipped his finger in a pot of cheese fondue, and said to me, 'Evans, let me show you what I find to be a particularly enjoyable diversion.' And with that, he opened up a nearby closet and took out a real human corpse, totally naked except for a bowler hat. Then he dragged the corpse over by his humidor and called on a little girl to fetch him a cigar.
"Well, that little girl took one look at the cadaver's dick and began shrieking! I had to pour two more brandies just to withstand the noise! And Alfred sat down beside her and began rubbing her thigh, laughing and telling her, 'It's just a corpse, darling. It can't hurt you! It's already dead!' Then she buried her head in his lap and he winked at me. WHAT A CUTUP!"
The Pink Panther Strikes Again, which is fucking awesome, especially if you're a 12-year-old. Chris Rose busted out a reference to the above scene last week during GameDay highlights. That guy is all right by me. "But that was a priceless Steinway!"
"OK, the trampoline was a bad idea. But you know what? At least I'm out there trying new things. If it were up to you, all we'd ever do is work and go to church."
Enjoy the games, everyone.