The Blame Game

Honestly, I'm not usually one to be down on New York teams once mine is out of the running, but I've got to gripe about the Monday morning coverage of the Giants' loss to the Eagles. It seems like every blue columnist or blogger has their panties in a bunch searching for the obscure reason their boys lost when they should just reach up and pull out the G-men G-string that is so highly wedged up their asses. So here is some advice from a tired and true fan who is somewhat more used to her team, well, sucking.

Stop playing the blame game.

Stop blaming Plaxico. Its been over a month since the star receiver learned that the best place to keep a loaded gun is apparently not the elastic waste band of his sweatpants. There is no such thing as a one man team in football. Otherwise the post-Brady Pats never could have eked out a decent season, and the good folk of Carolina would be burning effigies of Steve Smith instead of Delhomme.

Stop blaming the wind that both teams had to play against or the dumb expression on Eli Manning's face. Granted the kid looks like he'd spell his own name wrong, but as far as dumb quarterbacks go... did you not see Mcnabb pick up the phone on the Giants' sidelines? Nuff said.

Stop whining already, and face reality. Maybe the Giants lost because the they couldn't convert on 4th down. Twice. Or maybe they lost because they couldn't stop an imperfect but unflappable Mcnabb. It's tough to take a loss... trust me, I know. I bleed Green. But do yourself a favor, grab a copy of "He's Just Not That Into You" and learn to take an 'L'.

Schattenheimerfreude

Well, I missed the OT Indy loss to San Diego last night because I was doing the chicken dance with my grandmother, but it's all okay now. I feel so much better having watched the Ravens' defense make minced meat out of Chad Pennington. Reading the Fish fans bitch and moan on ESPN.com's Fanzone about their flaccid QB was oh so reminiscent and gratifyingly evil.

Which brings to be my main point. DolphinDiehard29 and MiamiMonstar aren't the only delusional fans hitting the blogs. The gang green posts claim the only reason Bill Cowher didn't leave his cushy newsman job to coach the Jets was because we didn't toss Favre. Right... and the reason your super hot girlfriend only carries singles is because she moonlights as a vending machine stocker. Wake up and smell your stripper girlfriend's cheap rose scented panties. We're the red headed step-children of New York sports fans. Stop whining, and pray that big daddy Marty Schottenheimer is feeling paternal enough to adopt our orphaned asses.