A lot has happened around here since I’ve last written you, dear reader. And I use the singular because we both know that there is only one of you.
Class warfare. As in, accusations of higher education. And as in, accusations of being a good writer. Both true. But the point is, I can identify with Joe Six-Pack as much as any billionaire politician. I just can write circles around him. Or them. I assume there is more than one Joe Six-Pack, or that one refers to them (him) in the plural because he’s a voting bloc. Anyway I can also correct his/their bad grammar. Cause its rly important 2 write well n 2days culture of email’s txts n stuff. :-/
So, suckleague. I hid in my shame cave after losing Week 1. A dark underground space filled with BRÖKASS and HERPDERP furnishings from IKEA, a framed portrait of Luke McCown, and a pile of lug nuts from a 1982 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. Only my therapist could lure me out with a spicy Slim Jim and a call to buck up for Week 2. He billed me for that, of course.
The Adversary’s Adversary should get bonus points for Brainded Weeden. He got lost under a gigantic flag. What more proof do you need that he’s America’s suckleague quarterback? Seldom has any American hero thrown so many interceptions–but he wasn’t overwhelmed!!! These colors don’t run!! They don’t pass, either, apparently…they’re simply a gridiron disaster.
I wish I could say the same for Ryan Tannehill. This week, Ryan, you’re just going to have to step up your game. You faced a good Texans defense and managed only three interceptions, three sacks and one measly fumble. Even Michael Vick had four INTs–come on now, Ryan, you can do better (worse) than that. Weeder didn’t even throw for 150 yards, and you somehow managed to break 200 with a receiving corps that includes…um… :-/
But what a week–truly a majestic (abominable) season opener for Suckleague. We can only hope it continues.