mustanged77
Tren Freak
Anyone a Bucs fan? lol Hey I am and I'm proud of it. Sort of. 
LOL
LOL
How about those Bucs?
- Thread starter mustanged77
- Start date
Who is Mike Jones?
http://www.2girls1cup.com
The Bucs were fucking stupid to think Chris Sims was the QB of the future. Bucs and Raiders and Packers are all lookin' like candidates for the #1 pick next year
YanksWS96
The Price is Wrong, BITCH
Who is Mike Jones? said:
I like the Raiders for #1 pick next year. They're just downright woeful. At least the Packers were comptetive against the Saints on Sunday. Cadillac Williams will carry the Bucs for some games (hopefully for the Bucs sake). The Raiders? Fuhgetaboutit. Aaron Brooks = worst QB in the league. Maybe Walter (or Walters...whatever) will be better.
Who is Mike Jones?
http://www.2girls1cup.com
YanksWS96 said:
No question. The Raider will NEVER turn this franchise around until Al Davis sells this team. What I like about Denny Green is his ability to take a chance on ONE guy like a Randy Moss where as the Raiders seem to give every player in the league with potential and problems a big money contract.
Aaron Brooks out 2-4 weeks with a strained pectoral. What happened to him? He was NOT this bad in New Orleans. Is the Raider O-line just that bad?
Who is Mike Jones?
http://www.2girls1cup.com
YanksWS96 said:
Do you think Brooks is still alive in the NFL because he's Michael Vick's cousin?
freakinhuge
New member
The Raiders are so much fun to watch. Its comical that a pro team can be that horrible. Anyway this is an article about Raider coach Art Shell. It is written by one of ESPN's funniest writers.
By Bill Simmons
Page 2
There are three forms of comebacks: The ones when a team or player overcomes seemingly insurmountable odds; the ones when a player recovers from a debilitating injury to regain his previous form; and the ones when a memorable personality retires or fades away, then splashes back onto the scene with "not only am I back, baby, but you're gonna remember this moment for a long freaking time" vigor.
Those aren't even comebacks, actually. They're more like resurrections. And you only need a few words to describe the best resurrections. Like MJ dropping 55 in New York. Elvis electrifying Vegas in the leather jumpsuit in '68. Vito Corleone's chilling "but I'm a superstitious man ... " speech. Cosell introducing Sinatra for "The Main Event" at MSG. Ali dropping Foreman in Zaire. Shannon Tweed and Andrew Stevens getting it on in "Body Chemistry 4." It's a short list.
And that's what made Art Shell's comeback so beautiful. He picked up right where he left off, as a glorified caretaker for a fading franchise. Apparently I was the only writer who remembered why Oakland canned him 12 years ago -- because he single-handedly submarined the Super Bowl chances for a loaded stretch of Raiders teams, to the point that nobody ever hired him again -- but that didn't stop people from playing the race card and pretending that Art would be installing discipline/intensity/consistency/professionalism with the 2006 Raiders. Um, why would things be different this time around? Hearing the Raiders rehired Shell was like reading that J-Lo and Ben Affleck were engaged again. Wait, what????
In last week's column, I mentioned two silver linings for Art's comeback: The gambling implications (with Aaron Brooks involved as well, it felt like the Perfect Wagering Storm) and the comedy implications (because an entire generation of NFL fans under 22 could enjoy the Art Shell Experience for the first time). But I never imagined how Monday night's game against the Chargers would play out. San Diego completely obliterated the Raiders from the first snap, to the point that Marty Schottenheimer opted for the three-runs-and-a-punt routine for the entire second half, content to let his defense protect a 13-0 lead that seemed more like 93-0. The Raiders couldn't have looked more disjointed, mismanaged and untalented. It's not possible.
Here was the best part: Shell standing motionless on the sidelines, rarely moving, rarely blinking, seemingly oblivious to the ongoing apocalypse on the field. One of my readers wondered if ESPN was looping the same Shell shot for four quarters, kinda like how Keanu Reeves rigged the bus camera in "Speed." And just like the old days, Art was wearing a headset, only it's unclear if the headset was on or off since he never said anything into it; for all we know, the headset was playing show tunes. There was one moment during a commercial timeout when he was listening to Randy Moss, who suddenly looked up and nudged him toward the field, like he was saying, "Yo, Coach, the game started," followed by a jolted Shell scampering back toward the sidelines like a nursing home resident who just realized he was late for BINGO. That's the only time we saw him move. In other words, it was just like old times.
And my readers were delighted. I ended up receiving 10 times as many Art Shell e-mails as Dream Team e-mails after USA's loss to Greece. (If you're interested, you can read the best ones HERE.) There were the requisite "Weekend at Bernie's" cracks, jokes about the music selection in his headset, dozens of descriptions of the Art Shell Face, people honestly wondering if he's really alive, even younger readers simply thanking me for taking the time to warn them. Although we weren't able to see Art work his magic with a two-minute drill, everyone agreed that it remained an immensely enjoyable TV experience ... and that's even before the Governator's 3rd quarter cameo when he lauded Art Shell for pulling off a "miracle" with this Raiders team, followed by Ron Jaworski doing a legitimate double take and looking like he just smelled a noxious fart.
You know what? In a roundabout way, Arnold was right. This WAS a miracle. See, I wasn't old enough to remember Elvis in Vegas or Ali in Zaire, but I'll always remember watching a rusty MJ drop 55 on the Knicks, and I'll always remember the night Art Shell came back and may or may not have been alive. So thank you, Gambling Gods, and thank you, Comedy Gods. Some things are better the second time around.
By Bill Simmons
Page 2
There are three forms of comebacks: The ones when a team or player overcomes seemingly insurmountable odds; the ones when a player recovers from a debilitating injury to regain his previous form; and the ones when a memorable personality retires or fades away, then splashes back onto the scene with "not only am I back, baby, but you're gonna remember this moment for a long freaking time" vigor.
Those aren't even comebacks, actually. They're more like resurrections. And you only need a few words to describe the best resurrections. Like MJ dropping 55 in New York. Elvis electrifying Vegas in the leather jumpsuit in '68. Vito Corleone's chilling "but I'm a superstitious man ... " speech. Cosell introducing Sinatra for "The Main Event" at MSG. Ali dropping Foreman in Zaire. Shannon Tweed and Andrew Stevens getting it on in "Body Chemistry 4." It's a short list.
And that's what made Art Shell's comeback so beautiful. He picked up right where he left off, as a glorified caretaker for a fading franchise. Apparently I was the only writer who remembered why Oakland canned him 12 years ago -- because he single-handedly submarined the Super Bowl chances for a loaded stretch of Raiders teams, to the point that nobody ever hired him again -- but that didn't stop people from playing the race card and pretending that Art would be installing discipline/intensity/consistency/professionalism with the 2006 Raiders. Um, why would things be different this time around? Hearing the Raiders rehired Shell was like reading that J-Lo and Ben Affleck were engaged again. Wait, what????
In last week's column, I mentioned two silver linings for Art's comeback: The gambling implications (with Aaron Brooks involved as well, it felt like the Perfect Wagering Storm) and the comedy implications (because an entire generation of NFL fans under 22 could enjoy the Art Shell Experience for the first time). But I never imagined how Monday night's game against the Chargers would play out. San Diego completely obliterated the Raiders from the first snap, to the point that Marty Schottenheimer opted for the three-runs-and-a-punt routine for the entire second half, content to let his defense protect a 13-0 lead that seemed more like 93-0. The Raiders couldn't have looked more disjointed, mismanaged and untalented. It's not possible.
Here was the best part: Shell standing motionless on the sidelines, rarely moving, rarely blinking, seemingly oblivious to the ongoing apocalypse on the field. One of my readers wondered if ESPN was looping the same Shell shot for four quarters, kinda like how Keanu Reeves rigged the bus camera in "Speed." And just like the old days, Art was wearing a headset, only it's unclear if the headset was on or off since he never said anything into it; for all we know, the headset was playing show tunes. There was one moment during a commercial timeout when he was listening to Randy Moss, who suddenly looked up and nudged him toward the field, like he was saying, "Yo, Coach, the game started," followed by a jolted Shell scampering back toward the sidelines like a nursing home resident who just realized he was late for BINGO. That's the only time we saw him move. In other words, it was just like old times.
And my readers were delighted. I ended up receiving 10 times as many Art Shell e-mails as Dream Team e-mails after USA's loss to Greece. (If you're interested, you can read the best ones HERE.) There were the requisite "Weekend at Bernie's" cracks, jokes about the music selection in his headset, dozens of descriptions of the Art Shell Face, people honestly wondering if he's really alive, even younger readers simply thanking me for taking the time to warn them. Although we weren't able to see Art work his magic with a two-minute drill, everyone agreed that it remained an immensely enjoyable TV experience ... and that's even before the Governator's 3rd quarter cameo when he lauded Art Shell for pulling off a "miracle" with this Raiders team, followed by Ron Jaworski doing a legitimate double take and looking like he just smelled a noxious fart.
You know what? In a roundabout way, Arnold was right. This WAS a miracle. See, I wasn't old enough to remember Elvis in Vegas or Ali in Zaire, but I'll always remember watching a rusty MJ drop 55 on the Knicks, and I'll always remember the night Art Shell came back and may or may not have been alive. So thank you, Gambling Gods, and thank you, Comedy Gods. Some things are better the second time around.