Here’s a drinking game for the NFC title game. Hit the bottle whenever the definition of nepotism, Joe Buck, comes across as a pompous asshole or verbally jacks off the QB of whichever team is winning. I’m kidding of course as this would kill anyone not named Andre the Giant (the greatest drunkard of all time btw) by halftime.
Of all of this country’s popular sports football has without a doubt the shittiest broadcasters. I don’t know why. I’m sure it has something to do with many of the game callers being former players who have had an umpteen head injuries (I’m looking at you Troy Aikman) but there’s more to it than that. If we could place the blame entirely on CTE we could give someone like Al Michaels a pass.
Before I continue I feel the need to bitch about Al Michaels some more. My family doesn’t have many traditions but hating Al is one of them. I think he’s a smug turd and “The Miracle On Ice” broadcast will haunt me long after he’s rotting in the ground. My father on the other hand has a much funnier reason for despising the man. Dad mentioned how much he hated Michaels once while watching a game together and his response was “because he never shows his fucking upper-teeth while talking.” And its true…he doesn’t! Some people might think that’s a strange reason not to like someone but if you knew my dad you’d probably be impressed he was observant enough to notice. Either way I’m not criticizing pops for it. Just another bullet point on Michaels’ deplorable resume.
Michaels’ issues aside this isn’t a new trend. I grew up watching John Madden call games and his analysis of the action on the field was downright atrocious. Between constantly scribbling with the telestrator, shouting about Tinactin during every commercial break, and having an unbreakable boner for Brett Favre he was damn near intolerable.
I will say this though. His partner in crime, Pat Summerall, was one of my favorites. He was terrible as well but his nonsense was entertaining. I remember Pat once quipped “if only a face could talk.” Another time a player (I believe it was Michael Irvin) took a hit that left him in a heap. Pat, cool as a refreshing lemonade on a hot August day, replies “that’s never a good sign.” I know Summerall struggled with alcoholism and I’m not convinced he wasn’t hammered in the booth for the majority of his career.
Anyways I’ve bitched about these idiots for long enough, but I have a solution to the problem that is both simple and effective. Its obvious we need to throw these hacks out on their asses but who would we replace them with? Fans of course! I don’t need some smug idiot like Cris Collinsworth telling me what I just saw happen on the field. I want arm-chair quarterbacks shouting verbal abuse at one another in the booth. If I have to listen to someone kiss Aaron Rodgers’ ass for hours I need it to be a fat Packer loving jerkoff spittting out his thoughts between bites of their Johnsonville bratwurst. If anyone has Roger Goodell’s contact information I will gladly forward these suggestions on to him. In the meantime we’ll just have to deal with Phil Simms’ mindless banter.