Monday Morning Hangover - Week 15

And we’re back with another exciting week of football action. Let’s get right into this year’s Trojan Boner of the Year award: It goes to Brian Billick. They’re down 3 with 6 seconds left. Fourth and goal from the half yard line. You’re 4-9, so it’s not like this will affect anything other than draft position. You’re team is moving the football. What do you do? Of course, you kick the field goal and go for the tie. Simply brilliant. You can tell this is true because your players were yelling at you. Actually, the Boner of the Year award goes to Baltimore’s owner who just gave Billick a contract extension before the year. I’m sure he was contemplating how much that buy out will be when the players were yelling at him.

The Jets only lost by 10. I’m impressed. That’s the blueprint for all games going forward. Lose close (though losing the qb of the future wasn’t part of that plan). We’re now tied for the second pick. And St Louis might not take a RB since they have Stephen Jackson. I’m two weeks from rooting for Ronnie Brown rehab sessions to go well.

The Barney Show has made the big time: I got a comment from someone I don’t know. I apparently got a comment on last weeks MMH about Tebow. Granted this was by someone who I think googles random combinations of words, but I found it funny that he felt the need to comment on my post that Tebow wasn’t banging enough chicks.

Other than that, I have nothing else to comment on football this week. So let’s get into drunk Barney stories. If you remember a few weeks ago, in the Barney Interview I said I avoid Georgetown bars because I end up turning into Dikembe Mutumbo. Well, this weekend I ended up in Georgetown after about 4 beers and a bunch of jack on the rocks, and very little food (in fact I puked up a cheeseburger in the bathroom before we left. Not that I was that bad, my stomach just hates me these days). Not only did we go to Georgetown, we took the Georgetown student bus to take us there. I decided this was a good time as any to be an asshole, so I proceeded to spend the 15 minute trip making Georgetown basketball jokes. Roy Hibbert took a lot of the abuse. After a Jeff Green comment didn’t get someone fighting me I decided to up the stakes. So I went back awhile: “How do you not win a national championship with Mutumbo and Mourning on your team?” “Hell, I’d be mad two if my team lost a championship game because the other team shot 65% from the field.” “Do you ever want to go up to Sleepy Floyd and ask, ‘Did you not know that Worthy was on North Carolina?” Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect, as no one understood the references I made. (In my defense, I did say I “respect” Iverson and would not make jokes about him). All it got me was a bunch of stares.

You’d think making fun of one school in a night would be enough, but sadly (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it. If I get my ass kicked one of these days, you’ll still probably laugh), it was not. I was on the train home, and I happened to sit across from someone who went to West Virginia. Now I didn’t start this (I swear I didn’t), but the guy in front of me decides he needs to rip WVU. So he proceeds to start making homosexual references about Pat White and Steve Slaton. I’m trying to mind my own business, but I can’t help laughing at this guy. Eventually, he goes, “This guy knows what I’m talking about,” and points at me. I see this as an opportunity, and since you can only get so much mileage out of the jokes he was doing, I switch it to a WVU joke that I like: couch burning. Once that got old, I decided to bring out the big guns: “I’m sure you’re glad to be a fellow alumnus along with Chris Henry and Pacman Jones.” How I didn’t get my ass kicked by her male companion is beyond me. Maybe he thought I was funny. Who knows. Until next week…