Archive for the ‘Week 6’ Category

Rooks 35 Riders 18

Ain’t No stopping them now. When a team can send in JaMarcus Russell into Jon B. Memorial stadium and come away with the win while making the Riders buy the Rook Pole pouncers round after round of shots on the house, you know this is a season of destiny. M. Jones Drew picked up the slack of an injury depleted backfield for the Rooks and the traveling band of madness proved to be too much for the Riders, who were literally defenseless in this battle of River Boots and semi happy sheep. The mirrors are cracked and the smoke machines seem to be running on empty in Riderville. If there is no LT, there is no meat – and you know you can’t have your pudding if you…For the Rooks, the poles are now raised and all signs point to the playoffs. Like the Schwartz’ vision from above, the Rooks are following their hearts and leaving the illusion of the mind to teams like the Riders, who seem to be having trouble finding the shadow of themselves. Rooks, you seem to be the class of the league this year. Hold on big fella, it’s all right in front of you – just remember that the door that looks to be the one to open might not be the right one. Riders, who are you, really?


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Pals 43 X 10

Well Jerry, I see you finally decided to come out and play on the Smack Centre’. I would assume that the words you had for Tony’s woman are tasting a little dry with that crow, but go on and try to swallow it – there may be some room for your pride after you clear a path. The Pals rope a doped for a little bit then showed Jerry just how old he really ways, embarrassing the Champs in what was perhaps the worst loss in franchise history. The Pals lost Tony Romo in the battle, but if any team has a stable of Pony Treats ready to trot out to the league it’s the Harlem Kids. These guys look pretty tough this year, perhaps finally erasing the stench of last year’s humiliation. One has to wonder how long they will hold on to that Raider trash that might taint the roster. This team usually doesn’t come to play until November, but now find themselves very much in contention for a playoff push. Looks like the league is going to have to deal with the Pals talking smack until at least December. Jerry, you can’t win ’em all, and this year, you might not win again. You sir, YOU – are the joke of the league. Go on and prove me wrong if you like, we can FEEL you reading this – but know that no matter how many stairs you run up and down, you’ll never take the field again. Come on Jerry, act like a man and put a team on the field! Randy Moss doesn’t like you any more. Pals, if you can ever decide on a backfield, you’ll be a dangerous horse to step in front of. Check please, Jerry.

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Ubes 43 Krons 36

Krons, you caused me some extra work this weekend, but then again, we knew, we all knew that by inviting the Ubermen into your Den of Denial that you’d once again have the sweet taste of victory just inches from your mouth, only to have your hand slapped for reaching too quickly for the treat. The Germans have their own way of teaching lessons, don’t they? Don’t they? Down by double digits and the Sun just edging down over the mountains of Silver lake, the Ubes parted their tanks and let the aerial attack of the Eagles swoop down over the fairgrounds, while Maid Marion ran wild through the new defensive coordinator’s best laid plans. At the end of the great show put on both both teams, it was the Ubermen who showed the heart of a champion and was able to shroom with the girls who worked the Renaissance fair in the bushes while the Krons were left alone in the petting zoo, shuffling his feet and trying to tell their team that is was OK. The Ubermen drank heavy beer steins and jousted long into the evening as they rode their metal steads back over the mountains and into the valley of victory, leaving the Krons to wonder why they left Peyton Manning on the bench for their biggest game of the year. The Ubes not only survived but saved their season, staying on pace with the pack. Krons, do you kow who you are or are you perhaps existing only on a reflection that is no longer there. Tough loss. Chew on it.

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Lics 52 Bugs 28

The Bugs woke up on Sunday morning and said to their magic Mirror “You’re such a cutie. I think we’ll trot Felix¬†Jones out there against the angry Wolf Dog ‘Lics? Whahappened? The ‘Lics, pumped up on Paps Blue Ribbon Clam Bowls flown down from Fisherman’s Wharf in the Bay, clasped down on little Felix and showed him that this is a man’s game, not a giveaway goodie bag from a birthday party. No. Reggie Bush and his points stayed on the sideline while the ‘Lics opened the floodgates andpounced¬†the wolf dog into the foolish heart of the Bugs. Mirror Mirror on the wall, why am I talking to myself? The Wolf Dog, silhouetted by the burning fires all around the southland, gave a battle cry that will be ringing true for the rest of the year. Braylon Edwards decided that Monday Night would be his, and nails to the coffin of this must win game ensured that the ‘Lics once again would turn around..turn around, every now and then I get a little bit lonely and my..sorry, and the ‘LICS showed that they will not be the whore of the league. Way to get yourself to the clinic kid – the Schwartz likes the chutzpa!

Bug Child: Do I have to read this Mr. Bug?
Mr. Bug: You do.
Bug Child: But I don’t understand what it means.
Mr. Bug: Do as I say little Bug person. Read it.
Bug Child: What is a Haiku Mr. Bug
Mr. Bug: Our destiny.

Bug Child: Wolf dog you broke heart
Sun sets for us NO! Night. Howl.
Silence made chow. Pack, back!

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