It's the most wonderful time of the year

Minus the lack of activity in upstate NY, this weekend, as is every kickoff weekend, was fantastic. The Simspon family even managed to flashback to the early 90's with a smorgasbord of pizza and ribs for Sunday's football action (Jets/Bengals, Skins/Bucs, and Gints/Iggles - we can touch on these in a moment). Good times indeed...but before I start sounding like Kevin Arnold, we need to discuss a few things:

As I discussed in my previous post, I didn't have cable this weekend, and that can be rough for a guy like me. I was subjected to 6 channels - NBC, ABC, CBS, PBS, Fox, and the WB (say what?). When the hell did the WB become part of rabbit-ear television? In fact, the WB11 gave me Mets games both days, but alas, the Flushing Nine couldn't get a W for Whit or Jerry (though Wagner's meltdown was highly entertaining - he actually had trouble tossing the Gatorade jug onto the field).

I'd like to toss Chris Rix and Joe Dailey into a lion's cage (no Montecore jokes here please), give them the keys, and see if either could hold onto the keys long enough to escape certain death.

Well, I see a certain NY team is getting some "sleeper" pub from SportsGuy and some guy in SI - thanks to The Wheelhouse gang for pointing that out (Speaking of the fellas over at the Wheelhouse, forget Norman Chad, enjoy their picks and game capsules each week - I'm also pretty sure Norman would be replaced as a poker announcer in a heartbeat by Jerry). Anyway, back to the J-E-T-S, Jets, Jets, Jets...yes, I am a Jets fan (fandom circa 1997). Now, obviously, this requires a bit of explanation, and with 16 weeks to go in the regular season, I will certainly give it to you, my reader(s) - let's just say my manlove for the Tuna blinded me early on. The Jets season started out a bit shaky, as they fumbled the OPENING kickoff, but somehow Curtis Martin climbed out of his grave and ran the Bengals ragged. It was a highly entertaining game, and I was very happy to see the Jets finally lock it down, especially since head coach Herm Edwards has some sort of motto about winning or something.

Let me jump from Herm and the Jets W to the more satisfying W of the weekend - the Irish upsetting Michigan on Saturday. It makes me warm inside to see Michigan lose, especially knowing this Notre Dame team has serious issues (Brady Quinn, what the hell are you doing, do you want me to put you in the cage with Rix and Dailey?). I mean, Ty Willingham loses this game, and it might be all out mutiny in South Bend. As an added bonus, this apparently makes Regis Philbin's year, and that's always important.

Last thing, non-sports related - I am a terrible cell phone talker. I simply don't seem to have the ability to whisper or lower my voice. Nothing is worse than having very old people in wheelchairs at a nursing home giving me dirty looks because I am so loud on the phone. I need some sort of whisper coach - hey, that sounds like the lame type of character Ben Stiller would play on the VMAs. Is he available, or is he too busy filming Mystery Men 2?