Gray skies are gonna clear up.Unless you're cynical or a catastrophist. Or have a pre-existing condition.
Put on a happy face.
Tony Bennet's voice has been singing that tune in ads for Michelobe Ultra all season long. Every time it comes on I challenge my drinking buddies to name the musical it came from.
They look at me bleary eyed, doubtful, and mildly annoyed.
"It's from Bye, Bye, Birdie!" I exclaim with a certain amount of joy.
They shake their heads and look down at their feet, except Mike, who knew that already and purses his lips and counts to ten.
I'm fun at parties . . . I swear.
I was actually in that musical once upon a time. Conrad Birdie was the roll, and I was terrible in it. Not just terrible, but I was also in my early twenties, dressed in a gold spandex jumpsuit designed for someone much smaller than me, and it was a children's theater production . . . so I was terrible . . . and super, super, creepy.
The front row saw more of my testicles than should be absolutely legal.
But to give a historical perspective . . . the year was 1997 . . . Bill Clinton was president . . . repealing the Glass-Steagal Act . . . Signing the Defense of Marriage Act . . . and showing more of his testicles than needs to be seen by young girls too.
They were simpler times.
Anyway, for football purposes, we are just about out of BYE Week hell (my teams have been feeling the heat), and tomorrow there are tentative plans for the first annual pilgrimage to a place that serves Hot Buffalo Wings along with a good selection of beer, which means that we will be sacrificing all kinds of chicken parts to the gods of early morning hunger.
Hence the title "Bye, Bye, Birdie."
It's a double entendre.
And not an excuse to talk about my testicles being squeezed together in shiny gold for a live audience.
I do enough of that for a living now.
Not joking . . . ask my fan base.
Anyway . . . enough . . .
THE BIG NEWS
Gee whiz . . . there's so much to choose from . . . where shall I begin?
How about Travis Kelce being fined $24,309 for throwing his towel at an official?
In fact, thanks to late hits, horse collar tackles, and one first fight, the NFL racked up about $200,000 in fines last week.
Which is likely the same cost of a single Michelobe Ad.
See how I brought that back around?
It doesn't look like anyone's spreading sunshine all over the place.
I'm laughing right now because the only other adult in the Bye, Bye, Birdie cast was a friend of mine, and we constantly changed the lyrics of that song to reflect our filthy filthy minds.
I can't repeat them here.
But it certainly wasn't spreading sunshine.
And it wasn't a frown being brushed off, and nobody was sticking out their noble chin.
INJURIES AND BAD DECISIONS
Pot is legal in California everybody. It won't be ready for retail until 2018, but you can smoke up all you want, right now, Josh Gordon in red and gold.
How high am I right now?
Not as high as Doug Martin owners, Dion Lewis stashers, and Tony Romo believers.
Actually, Romo probably won't see the field this season. But neither will Jesus Christ, and he's got a hell of a following.
See what I did there? Another Double-Entendre.
Cough, cough.
FANTASYLAND:
Teddy's Stump Speech (8-1) 1st place
Cheney's Shotgun (5-4) 5th place
Trump's Twitter Game (7-2) 1st place.
You might look at those stats and think I know what I'm doing. Three winning teams heading out of the Bye Weeks, in contention like a playa.
You'd be wrong . . . you'd be so vastly wrong.
Not quite as wrong as the liberal media and their polling data . . . but more like a 40 year old Dick Van Dyke pretending to be married to an 18 year old Mary Tyler Moore . . . kinda wrong.
Dick was in the original cast of Bye, Bye, Birdie . . . that's why that reference is both funny and on message.
See the reason you're wrong is that I am due for an epic melt down, and there are some contenders out there who are gunning for me, with their steely little eyes and their tiny little hands (Mr. Gold), they've got Waiver Wire priority and benches filled with replacement players.
I am, however, going against Mr. Steve in two leagues and there may be a possibility he melts down before I do, but in one of those leagues, Cheney's Shotgun, I have five of my benched players on BYE, and the one that is playing this week is Christine Michael, who I'm betting is going to lose touches to CJ Prosise, who I've got loaded up instead.
Here's the thing with that decision. Seattle is playing The Patriots. Both have excellent but beatable defenses and excellent but beatable offenses.
Michael is injured. Prosise is not.
Coach Pete Carroll has said that Prosise will see a lot of game time this week.
The Patriots are weakest against RB's catching out of the backfield . . . Prosise's forte, as you will . . . and it's a PPR league.
Everything points in the right direction.
But I've been CJayed before.
I've been CJayed so hard.
Slapped with more than a happy grin . . . I must say.
And if you'll remember from a few blogs back, being "CJayed" is the euphemism I use instead of saying that "a player just didn't live up to the hype."
So if I'm CJayed this week, it will be my own fault, I know the danger.
Maybe I should "pick out a pleasant out look" and "wipe off that full of doubt look" and "put on a happy face"
But I know my game.
Getting CJayed is my game.
CRAZY STUPID PREDICTIONS WEEK 9
Oakland beats Denver in the best prime time game of the year.
CALLED IT . . . CALLED IT!
Stafford becomes the only QB to throw for 350 yards against Minnesota.
I WAS OFF BY A MERE 131 YARDS. THAT'S NOTHING TO THE ELECTORAL COLLEGE.
Frank Gore has his second 100 yard performance.
60, BUT HE DID HAVE 2 TDS.
I forget to wear my lucky tank-top Monday Night, McCoy and Gillislee are useless.
HOLY, BLOODY, CALLED IT, WE WENT TO A MOVIE AND I DIDN'T DON MY TANK!
Steve forgets to set his clock back and spends an hour alone at the bar being goaded into 22 ounce servings of Miller Highlife by a girl with a spray tan and a Lone-Star tattoo, because she too is a Cowboy's fan, and he certainly doesn't look like the kinda guy that would drive a Toyota Echo.
NOPE . . . BUT WE DID GET A FREE SAMPLE OF BBQ CHICKEN PIZZA . . . WHICH WAS NICE.
CRAZY STUPID PREDICTIONS WEEK 10
Russell Wilson gives me a 40 point game.
Rashad Jennings proves his back half is his best half and I leave that without commenting further.
David Johnson leaves the field 10 minutes into the 49er game, not because of injury, but because he's already ran for 207 yards and 3 touchdowns.
The Muscle Hamster returns to glory and I make chinchilla jokes with mouthfuls of spicy bird flesh.
One of you catches yourself singing "Put on a Happy Face" in the shower . . . Mike.
Now if any of that happens, or you find yourself laughing out loud this week, share this with your friends on Myspace . . . and remember that gray skies ARE gonna clear up . . . and the only thing we have to fear is clowns.
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