Tag Archives: jets

Football, Skitch Hanson

Jets/Colts Preview by Sean from Massapequa

Frequent Scratchbomb contributor Sean from Massapequa offers his thoughts on this weekend’s playoff game between the Colts and Jets.

seanfrommassapequa.jpgI am so pumped for this game, you would not believe it. Trust me, even if you think you know the insanity that is Sean, you are not prepared for the brand of crazy I am about to dispense in thick, rich, heaping scoops. I’m wearin my Chrebet jersey for the 53rd day in a row. I bought an airhorn with a loudener attachment to fire off every time the Jets play an offensive down. And I painted the neighbor’s dog green.

Get this: my yuppie killjoy nextdoor busted my balls about it! He was all like, “Hey, my dog can’t breathe with his pores clogged up with Sherwin Williams!” Listen buddy, your dog once barked at me while I was standin on my own property. That means I can do whatever I want to him. Look it up, it’s the law. I saw it on an episode of CSI: NY. You know, the one where they busted that thrill-killing improv group.

By the way, I got a friend who’s on the lighting crew for that show. Says Sinise is a good egg, but Sela Ward’s a total bitch. Keeps givin him the stink-eye just cuz she walked in on him trying to take a swivel chair outta her trailer. The thing was barely bolted down!

But I digress. The Jets are gonna DESTROY the Colts on Saturday. No ifs, ands, or buts, unless those prepositions are immediately followed by the words, “DESTROY EM SOME MORE!”

I wish I could be there in person, but my buddy Frank, the Jet Blue baggage handler, couldn’t come through with a “Samsonite Discount.” That’s where you hitch a free ride in someone else’s luggage. Airport security’s tighter than ever, plus he kept gettin written up for throwin out other people’s clothes. Friggin Obama, am I right?

This is what’s gonna happen. The Jets are gonna score 37 points in the first half, on three touchdowns, four field goals, five safeties, and a little known scorin play called the Hambone. That’s where the refs award you extra points just for bein awesome. The Colts, intimidated by The Sanchize and the fearless leadership of Rex Ryan, don’t even bother comin out for the second half, and the Jets win by default. And also they burn down Lucas Oil Stadium, because why not? That’s what I would do.

Remember last year in the AFC Championship game, when the Colts zipped ahead of the Jets in the fourth quarter? Ryan let em do that, just to set up this game. The man is a genius. I don’t care if he’s got some weird hang-up about feet. He’s eccentric, like all geniuses. My friend Paulie’s like that. He’s in craft services. The guy only eats orange food. Swear to god. So it’s basically just tangerines and Cheetos for him. But nobody else coulda snuck me into the gifting suites at the People’s Choice Awards. I got a coat made outta emu.

The Jets are winnin this game. They have to. Because if they don’t, I got nothing. What the hell else am I gonna root for now? The Islanders are a hot mess, and the Nassau Colosseum is a dump–you couldn’t pay me to sneak into that place! The NBA? I wouldn’t watch it if you paid me. All them guys with the tattoos and the guns and the violence, what kind of example is that for kids? Plus I heard they let Eastern Europeans play now, and I don’t approve of that.

I’ll be goin down to Port St. Lucie in March to scream at Jose Reyes for a coupla days, but that’s way down the road still. So Sanchize needs to come through, or it’s gonna be a long two months for me. But even more so for him, cuz I’m gonna wait in the bushes outside his house with a bottle of chloroform and a tire iron. And I may not use them in that order.

J-E-T-S! JETS JETS JETS!

Football, Media Morons

Mike Francesa on How to Properly Disgrace Yourself

francesa.jpgI know I’ve said this many times, but it bears repeatin. The Jets are a uttah disgrace. I’m gonna say it an additional time, because I feel so strongly about it: The Jets are a uttah disgrace. And I’m gonna say this yet another additional time, just in case you forgot what I said while I was saying this sentence: The Jets are an uttah disgrace.

First of all, they did nothin but tawk all offseason. Tawk and tawk and tawk about how great they are. I’ve never heard anyone tawk for so long about so little. Sounded like a broken record. They gotta take a cue from me. I talk five hours a day, and I never repeat myself. Ever. Never, ever repeat myself. Ever.

First they got themselves on this Hard Knocks thing, and Rex Ryan’s cursing like a longshoreman. You don’t hafta work blue to motivate men, Rex. Just look at me. I don’t say a single cuss word on this show, and millions of people hang on my every word. These idiots could just go comment on a blog or the Tweetah or whatevah, and yet they wait on hold for three hours just to hear me yell at em. That’s called powah. Take a tip from the mastah, okay?

Then they harrass this reportah who’s just tryin to do her job. Whethah or not she was an actual reportah or actually felt harassed is not important. The point is, we were all talkin about it for weeks. Therefore, somethin bad happened.

Then you got Braylon Edwards blowin a 2-point-whatevah on the blood alcohol thing. You don’t get behind the wheel when you’re tanked on the sawce, Braylon. You’re lucky you didn’t kill a man like your buddy Donte Stallworth; then you would spent a whole 30 days in jail! You make a lotta money, fella. You can afford to get a drivah. Or to get your car outfitted with an IV drip of Diet Coke, like mine. That sobahs you up real quick.

If the Jets wanna know how to be a disgrace, they should take a page outta the Giants’ book. They were an uttah disastah on Sunday, but at least they had the decency to be quietly undisciplined and sloppy. None of this mouthin off, none of this showboating. They just went out and stunk up the joint. With class.

Eli Manning is a professional. When he throws a dumb interception with his left hand, he just hangs his head and walks off the field. And you don’t see none of this stupid celebrating on defense neither. Nobody was poundin their chest or doin the dougie when they commit an idiotic chop block in the end zone to give Tennessee a safety.

Rex Ryan could learn somethin from Tom Coughlin, too. He don’t curse at his playahs. He just bends at the waist and slowly gets reddah and reddah. A man’s skin tone can convey a lot more than a man’s words. That’s why I paint myself bright orange for Mike’d Up every week.

Folks, there’s a right way and a wrong way to disgrace yourself. The wrong way is the loudmouth, classless, criminal Jets’ way. The right way is the Giants quiet, dignified sucking. Of course, it’s best of all to not suck, but if you do have to suck, the Giants way is the way to do it.

Comin up, I’m gonna go over all the other NFL action this weekend. We’ll talk the Cowboys’ big win, and then I’ll covah all the othah games based on the same two-minute segments on SportsCenter that you saw last night. Then, I’m gonna talk about the Yankees for four hours. Back aftah this.

Football, Media Morons

Mike Francesa Can’t Say Anything About the Jets

francesa.jpgAlright, NFL week two is almost in the books, and I gotta man up here. I gave Rex Ryan and his team a lotta grief last week when they came up small against the Ravens. I was rough on him with my words. I did not treat him kindly with my mouth.

I called Rex classless. I said he was a joke. I said Mawk Sanchez was not an NFL quawtaback. I said some terrible things about Darelle Revis, and LaDainian Tomlinson, and Curtis Martin, just to be safe.

But let’s face it, the Jets had a big game yesterday against the Pats. A hu-yuge game. An enawmous contest. A gargantuan other-word-for-game. A game that they really had to win, if you wanna be honest. But they did, and I gotta give ’em credit.

They shut me up. After trashin em all last week, I cannot say one thing about the Jets, because I was wrong about em. They did their job and then some, and also more. So I can’t talk at all about the Jets. They are a team that I can not uttah a single word about. I gotta just shut my mouth about the Jets. You will not hear anothah syllable from me in regards to the Jets. If there are sounds coming out of my windpipe that resemble the patterns of speech normally associated with language, you can guarantee they will not be about the Jets, for that is a team that I can say nothin about.

Alright, let’s go to the phones. Paulie is callin from Ho-Ho-Kus. Paulie, what’s going on?

Hey Mike, hu-yuge Giants fan here, but I gotta agree, you can’t say nothin about the Jets after Sunday.

You can’t. You just can’t. Listen, the Jets shut me up. I’m done talkin about the Jets.

I was sayin a lotta the same things you was sayin about em…

I’m sure you were. We all were sayin things. You know the things we were sayin. I can’t say em no more, but you know what I was sayin.

Exactly. But now, I gotta just keep my mouth shut about the Jets.

You will not hear a peep outta me about the Jets this week. Not one. Of course, if they stink up the joint in Miami next weekend, I’ll be screamin at em again. But I can’t talk about that, because it hasn’t happened yet. For now, I will not say anything about the Jets. Don’t ask me to talk about the Jets. I’m done!

On last question, Mike. I got this buddy at work, huge Jets fan. He’s been givin me crap all day about how the Giants did against the Colts. Can I beat him savagely with a tire iron?

You not only can, you must. Alright, we got a go to a break, but when we come back, I’ll have Jon Heyman on, and he’ll tell me stuff that other writers tweeted three hours ago. Stay tuned for that.