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The Texans go to Hell in a handbasket: Blame it on Lucy Van Pelt

Damned you, Lucy!

A woman's work is never done. Especially an evil woman. Reproduction through Fair Use/Courtesy of Wikipedia-Creative Commons
A woman’s work is never done. Especially an evil woman. Reproduction through Fair Use/Courtesy of Wikipedia-Creative Commons

Perhaps the Houston Texans might find more truth in advertising if they renamed themselves the Charlie Browns. It seems fitting for the team, especially this year. They started out so exciting last night in the first half against Indianapolis. Yes, the first half, with rookie former University of Houston quarterback Case Keenum throwing three end zone bombs to Andre Johnson. It looked oh so promising despite the battered Oilers Texans.

Star running back Arian Foster, already nursing a sore Achilles, played what seemed to be one possession before going out for the rest of the evening with a back injury. The other half of Houston’s backfield duo, Ben Tate, was fitted with some kind of flak jacket after getting pain shots for some broken ribs. Tate still played, hurt, to say the least.

The Texans also had injuries to their defense, including linebacking monster Brian Cushing sporting a season-ending LCL tear and broken fibula. Sure, they had J.J. Watt stepping up to play grizzly bear on the Colts offense. But when that old whistle blew, that mean little ol’ Lucy came out of nowhere ready to pull the football away from the Charlie Browns of the NFL. That certainly was an apt metaphor for Texans kicker Randy Bullock who missed three, count ’em, three freaking field goals with his final try kicking the Texans’ chance for overtime into far-off oblivion.

But, I’m getting ahead of myself. That is because, as many of you football folks already knew, Lucy, — likewise figuratively — kneecapped Texans Head Coach Gary Kubiak before he even had a chance to enter the locker room at half-time. “The Kube” was carted away to one of the many local hospitals for what was termed “stroke-like symptoms” even though team officials said Kubiak did not suffer a stroke or heart attack. Then what did he have? Well, in our little figurative world, Lucy Van Pelt.

Blame it on Lucy. Might as well. You can’t blame defensive coordinator Wade Phillips, who took over as interim team leader.

As one of my late firefighter friends, Bobby Dale, used to say: “Man, now that’s as f***ed up as a football bat!”

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Here’s hoping the Texans’ 49ers ‘stinker’ proves a one-night stand

The alarms sounded Sunday night as I watched the brutal beating San Francisco put on the Houston Texans. The alarm was in my head and it said: “Stinker Attack, Stinker Attack, Don your gas masks immediately!”

A bit of hyperbole perhaps, but only the alarm and the warning dialog. The truth is the Texans played a true stinker in the televised prime-time game. As was the case in most of the games the 2-3 Houston team played this season, they were “Pogoed.”  I say that, remembering the thoughtful and philosophical little cartoon ‘possum, Pogo, who was perhaps best known for his memorable political quote: “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

The enemy wasn’t all Quarterback Matt Schaub. Although, his setting a record throwing “pick sixes” in four consecutive games certainly is far from the prestige of a Pro Bowl selection. The fact is the Texans have looked like a crap boat in most of the games this year, including the ones they won.

First, it was the Oilers Texans coming back from the dead to win in games prior to their Baltimore loss, and then blowing a 23-0 lead in overtime with Seattle. And is it just me, or do the Texans appear as if they are reverting back to old habits, like their falling apart at the red zone? The Texans just haven’t seemed to click this year. No one could reasonably expect a repeat of the spectacular season defensive end J.J. Watt had last year, especially his taking up some of the slack for linebacker Brian Cushing, who was out with an injury. But with both Watt and Cushing reunited, well, it just doesn’t feel so good.

In the backfield alternating runners Arian Foster and Ben Tate haven’t really had that shine they seem to have had in past seasons, then again it might just be me trying to find a reason to not believe.

Schaub, though, he looks, as someone said yesterday, as if he had seen ghosts.

I have taken up for Schaub, for what pissing difference that makes. And his little coach too! Well, Gary Kubiak isn’t little but I was taking a little “Wizard of Oz” license there. I expect Schaub will remain starter unless he just disintegrates on field. I think backup QB T.J. Yates did an amazing job in the season before last, when he had to come in for a battered Schaub. But I think some people operate better during noble urgency as compared with simple desperation.

Maybe Sunday night’s whipping by the 49ers will provide a little shock therapy for Kubiak, Schaub and the rest of the Texans. I sure hope so. Because if they don’t I will not only have a crappy fall being furloughed from my job, but I will likewise have to suffer with yet another dismal excuse for a favorite NFL team.

 

 

 

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The monkey dances as the scores run upward.

The fields hosting some of the best teams in college football were a slaughterhouse last weekend. See for yourself:

No. 4 Ohio State 76, Florida A & M 0.

No. 7 Louisville 72, Florida International 0.

No. 8 Florida State 54, Bethune-Cookman, 6, By golly at least the small, historically black Wildcats scored a TD.

No. 20 Baylor 70, Louisiana-Monroe 7.

Stephen F. Austin 52, Montana State 38. This sounds more like Texas 6-man football but my alma mater the Lumberjacks of SFA were pretty even unlike some of these match-ups.

Even here in Beaumont, Texas, the rebuilt-from-the-grave Lamar Cardinals, a FCS, or what was once Division 1-A, throttled the smaller Bacone Warriors of Muskogee, Okla., 53-0. I saw the Bacone bus at the MCM Elegante Hotel while coming home from work late. I said: “Bacone?”

Bridge City HS, UT wishbone T fullback Steve Worster. Those were the days.
Bridge City HS, UT wishbone T fullback Steve Worster. Those were the days.

Some football “purists,” if such a word exists came to work Monday at their radio or TV studios, eyes raised, ready to engage in “for” or “against.” What do smaller schools get in exchange for playing much larger and ranked BCS schools? Oh, and getting beaten like a rented mule? Money. Yeah buddy, beat me until I turn green like the GEICO Money Man. I think GEICO, who is owned by Warren Buffet’s Berkshire-Hathaway, has some of the most clever advertising characters ever. Love the Gecko and Ralph the Pig, along with the Money Man. He must be Buffet in a younger day.

Here is my alma mater playing Texas Tech on Sept. 7. Tech 61 SFA 13. Attendance, more than 54, 000. On RedRaiderSports.com, old buddy, former co-worker and fellow SFA journalism alum Kevin Gore hit the nail on the head:

“Texas Tech is the toughest opponent on SFA’s schedule, how do you think they’re gearing up mentally for their trip to Lubbock?
KG: “Well, you know, it’s a money game for Stephen F. They’re getting $387,500. They try to play a money game every year.”

To paraphrase an old chem professor, you don’t get 20,000 students to show up for a chemistry lecture.

I have been searching for what SFA brought home in cash in the beating they took a year or two ago playing the Texas A & M Aggies at Kyle Field, but can’t find the amount.

Other reasons exist for these mismatched contests but money reigns supreme, at least for the “beat-ee.”

The question raised is whether these games contain “sportsmanship.” WTF? I remember in high school, a football player and a pretty girl would be the “Sportsmanship Couple.” This couple would take a bouquet to another such couple from the other team. I never got to be a sportsmanship, uh half-a-couple. I was just the equipment manager. And I remember a game in high school in which I watched from the sidelines as our team racked up 60 to 0, the best I can remember. We put a 300-pounder lineman in at halfback and he bulled his way through a couple of yards a la Refrigerator Perry style. That was before The Fridge though.

This score-up-running scene I described was a district football game. It was a school we played year in and out, except every so often and when the University of Texas body that runs interscholastic events — my best friend and I were 2-for-2 in the Nederland Foresnic Tournament. We raced to see who could first dig up dead bodies and find crucial evidence. Oh bullshit, it was a debate tournament!

Where this all comes out is sometimes the score gets run up. It seems a bit unseemly when this is all for money. But you have to make that dancing monkey dance. That is not a racist statement. You ever see a dancing monkey?

 

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Beetle and Sarge still at it

It must be all of those naps that keeps one of the Army’s oldest enlisted men going.

Pvt. Beetle Bailey must be going on about 80, we don’t know for sure. He was probably 18 or so when he left home for Rockview College. On March 13, 1950, Beetle enlisted in the Army and, one might say, he has made it his career of it.

In today’s Army Bailey would have been long discharged for his habitual laziness and insubordinate attitude, not to mention his naps, which Bailey takes at quite regular intervals. For that matter, he would have been long gone in many of the day’s Armys in between. Likewise, his longstanding superior Sgt. 1st Class Orville Snorkel, would likely have been a goner as a career non-commissioned officer in some of the various incarnations of the U.S. military. For example, Sarge would have probably been given his walking papers for the first 1,000 or more times he pulverized the slacking Private Bailey.

Pvt. Bailey reporting for duty, sir.
Pvt. Bailey reporting for duty, sir.

Perhaps it is fortunate for both private and sergeant that they possess a love-hate relationship that has kept the two in the service all these years, and on Camp Swampy with some of its dubious military characters rather in combat through six major U.S. wars.

That “Beetle Bailey” the comic strip has persevered all these years is largely due to its creator, Mort Walker. Walker celebrated his 90th birthday last week. Walker was born on Sept. 3, 1923, and his successful strip debuted on Sept. 4, 1950. He served in Army intelligence and as an investigator during World War II. Perhaps it was his Army experience that made Walker see the oxymoron Army and intelligence could often present to both those in the civilian world and those in the service alike.

Although once in awhile Walker can ruffle some military feathers, the strip  has the genius of presenting in a reflective way the absurdity that is inherent in huge bureaucratic entities such as the Army and the Defense Department. His humor isn’t biting and at some times sentimental. Still, the strip has a way of reaching the vast diffuse bunch that is the armed forces. That it is probably why such a diverse group of dignitaries sent Walker well-wishes recently on his 90th birthday. That group ranged from New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg to Prince Albert II of Monaco, as well as another famous pair, Dolly Parton.

The strip along with Walker’s “Hi and Lois” — Lois is Beetle’s sister — is a family endeavor that has gone on for years with the creator and his sons helping and is likely to go on past Mort Walker. That is the kind of consistency military people don’t mind having from time-to-time. Beetle will most likely be napping — and probably getting pounded by Sgt. Snorkel for years to come.

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Football is here. A mostly glorious event.

Last night the pro football season began for me. And how glorious it — mostly — was.

My team, a.k.a. the Houston Texans, came back from a deficit of 24 points to beat the San Diego Chargers. Randy Bullock booted a 41-yard field goal for a literal last-second three points.The kicker was drafted by Houston in 2012 but was injured that August with a groin injury. A Klein High School product who played ball and graduated with a petroleum engineering degree from Texas A & M, was given the game ball for what was his first regular season game. Oh, and yes, I was just thinking “ouch.”

It happened that the opening Monday Night Football game of 2013 was a double-header: the Washington Native-American Skins  vs. the Philadelphia Eagles with Houston-San Diego. Since I worked until 8 o’clock, the first game was going when I got home. I wasn’t particularly excited to see that particular game. I mean RGIII is a pretty exciting young quarterback to watch, provided he doesn’t end up on injured reserve after the first game. Less exciting were the two announcers for the game: Jon Gruden and Mike Tirico. And if humanly possible, many Houston fans thought the announcing pair for the second game — Chris Berman and Trent Dilfer — were even less exciting than the first two.

  “Chris Berman’s voice makes me wanna shoot myself in the foot,” Twittered “Lil Poop” to the Houston Chronicle.

Berman could be funny back in the 80s, when more people were stoned. Not so much these days. Trent Dilfer, the former Tampa Bay, Ravens, Seattle Seahawks, Cleveland and 49ers quarterback, is a pretty good NFL analyst, on the radio. Not so much a TV analyst.

I guess the Texans-Chargers game was an exciting contest. But I’d like my team to win like they were supposed to. I would like to see the Houston Texans go to the Super Bowl and, hopefully, win before I become too decrepit to do a limited Happy Dance. No matter how thrilling the game, if you have sleep problems like me, exciting at 12:45 a.m. doesn’t quite cut it.

Nonetheless, Houston seems to have a team better than last season’s. That’s a positive note. And to round out the start of football season, my high school has been at the top on the Associated Press prep polls from the start. My old school is No. 1 in 2A in Texas. Look it up.

An interesting note, a high school friend who still lives in the old hometown became involved in a kerfuffle with a regional sports site. It has been since straightened out last I heard. But Bobby has gotten a considerable number of folks, such as me, who agreed when my friend asked if I would be interested in receiving updates from him by text messaging. I said: Why the hell not? I have free unlimited text that I use. So, during the last two games which were won by old alma mater, I received short and to the point texts. Dick EFD, 2 yd run TD, PAT good. N 16, L 10. No commentary, no funny names. Just , who won, Baby!!! The home team has won three state championships. I saw them win one in person. I ‘d like to see them win another. And see the Texans win the Super Duper Bowl. Even if it’s on TV.