By Christopher Cobb
SG&M Columnist
Elizabeth by: BikerCalendars.com
Brees knew how to handle Tony Romo and co. like a mongrel dog. Brees single-handedly beat most of the Cowboys
like gongs and sent many sports pundits leaping from their pigskin towers in fits of uncontrollable weeping. Many of
them, myself included, had just spent the last week pronouncing upon the world how
from evil. Not many predicted the kind of damage Brees would bring, but that is how the game goes. I am out a
considerable amount of money, but I am stronger and wilder than most of my football compatriots and understand that,
for now at least, there will be another week ahead to go double or nothing.
Ah well, the NFC is an ugly mess of a conference anyway and there is no clear-cut front-runner. The easy money says
the Big Dance will be attended by
to slop their way to the top. There is no poetry in that kind of victory, but poetry has nothing to do with a fifteen-pound
Super Bowl ring.
You need to look at the AFC to get any semblance of strength left in the NFL. But there are no 2002 New England
Patriots any more. The talking heads have spent most of this season trying to anoint anyone showing any sign of
promise.
might argue that Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts are the most solid squad. But Manning is a walking
disappointment, a punch-line to a joke that he himself flubbed telling. The entire Manning clan is cursed with
mediocrity and neither he nor his Gump-esque brother Eli will end their career with anything but broken promises
and missed opportunities.
Besides, I’m sick of seeing Peyton hawking everything from Visa to DirectTV to Gatorade. I don’t ask my prostitutes
what they think of term-life insurance so why should I ask my athletes? Seriously, someone, please, pay Peyton to stop
being in commercials.
There is only one team that comes
close to being the one to
watch, and that is the San Diego Chargers. They are, in fact, my team in this year’s
blind football pool and I’d like to say this was a shrewd calculation on my
part, some bit of foresight I was privy to when the unproven Philip Rivers
was set to start over old pro Drew Brees (who, of course, leapt over to the
NFC and New Orleans) that made me know from the go that it was SD all
the way. But that is not at all the case. I was 19th in line to pick and by
then there were not many squads left worth choosing. So I thought, well
they used to be in LA, why the fuck not?
And that is the lesson to be learned here. No one saw the Chargers
domination coming. A good team? Sure. A solid squad? Maybe. But
not winners and that is exactly how Sand Diego is playing, well into week
16.
Of course, the biggest loser in this equation is the city of
Indeed, LA used to be the home of the Superchargers, as they are still
known among aged and grizzled fans, but that was only for the first two
years of the teams’ existence. Subsequently, LA foolishly relinquished
the Chargers to a lazy naval border town to the south and the City of
Photo - SanDiegoChargers.com
One might think a city like LA would be the perfect home to a football team, but that most of the city’s citizens lack
the total dedication required for true football fan-dom. Angelenos on the whole believe they have something far more
significant to do than enjoy football, even if that something is shopping, a Botox touch up or couch time with the shrink.
Of course, if you’re the right kind of fan, all three of those needs are fulfilled by your weekly dose of NFL action.
Think about it.
Instead, LA has been cursed to half-flirt with teams like the Raiders and the Rams, hosting them for the purpose of
“being seen”, to network, and anything else that has nothing to do with just watching the godam game. And alas, for
die hard fans, said squads shared the mindset of
But maybe that was the whole sick reasoning behind Gerald Courtney’s choice for LA's first NFL team name: The
Chargers.Freaks bent on breaking and entering, and beyond that: The Superchargers; an all-encompassing burst of
electricity, like LA’s own power grid. The name is urban, strong and will kill you if you let it.
And what did LA do with this god-sent gift but kick it down to its ugly stepbrother to the south. I don’t think LA will be
at peace until it rights the curse and the only way to do that is a citywide recon mission where a team of Angelenos with
a death wish descend into San Diego, kidnap the Chargers, their gear, all necessary game plans, etc., and get them all
back to LA mostly whole. Of course, we will need to have a heavily fortified and newly constructed stadium, something
with gun turrets and luxury seats, and will need countless human sacrifices on the 50-yard-line to appease the gods for
our past foolishness. I have spoken to many Cali-Aztlan mystics about this and they swear by their strange and foreign
gods that it will work and the curse will be lifted.
Until then, we will have to admire Brees and his boys from afar. They are looking damn good, but once playoff time
comes it will only take one victory from the Bengals or the Baltimore Ravens to knock San Diego's Super Bowl
dreams into eternity. Selah.
Still, the more exciting bet would be whether South
or if the Republicans get to snatch the Senate back from the will of the voting public. Put your money on survival.
The Democrats will keep Johnson's brain-dead ass moving around with marionette strings if they have to and
BoDog.com is offering some sweet odds if you think the old cuss can pull through.
A Bay Area native, Christopher Cobb received his BA in Creative Writing (Fiction, with honors, magna cum laude)
from UCLA in 2003. He is currently working on a short novel based on the savage, roving gangs of waiters in Old
Pasadena. When he's not tearing up the 101 to visit his sweetheart in scenic Santa Barbara, Christopher makes his
home in LA's northeastern-most outpost, El Sereno.