Sunday, November 13, 2005

SportsMatters Classic: 2nd Annual Madden Weekend Pt. III

Sunday August 13, 2005
11:16 a.m.

Kevin has just forced me awake with the “ask a person if they are awake so much they really do wake up and then pretend that you are sorry you woke them up” move. I wonder if this is some sort of sleep deprivation tactic intended to rob me of my winning ways? You see, whereas Kevin was asleep by two, knocked out by sorrow and alcohol, I was up until five, buoyed by sugar, caffeine and the trumpeting sounds of NFL films. I am exhausted today, and grumpy.

Kevin is back with breakfast. The edge is still there. I hope it dissipates. A movie is a definite must. I am going to suggest “Broken Flowers” or “Wedding Crashers.” I have seen the latter, but can you ever get enough Vince Vaughn? I don’t think so. He is the spiritual father of all video game trash talkers, after all. Speaking of NHL 94, here is a great article about the impact of video games on an athlete's career (you may have to watch an ad to get to the free story).

I’m Gonna Make Gretzky’s Head Bleed For Super Fan 99 Over Here.

By the way, I really think NFL Films should hire Will Ferrell to do a Ron Burgundy voice over on some of their tape.

Sunday August 13, 2005
12:20 p.m.

Kevin has just beat me and the Green Bay Packers, to go to 3-5 on the season. I had Julius Peppers and Jason Taylor on each end of my defensive line, but it wasn’t enough. For some reason, I assumed I was losing to Kevin with less than two minutes to go. He had just driven down the field and scored, and after I failed to make any headway with my offence, I thought the game was over. I picked a goal line defence, just expecting Kevin to kneel and kill the clock. It took me about four or five plays to figure out that the score was tied 31-31. What a stupid mistake. Kevin marched down the field, kicked a field goal, and won the game. Kevin seems happier. I need to focus. That was a total Schottenheimer I just pulled.

Sunday August 13, 2005
1:00 p.m.

I am getting beat by Rex Grossman. I need to break his legs.

Sunday August 13, 2005
1:55 p.m.

Kevin is having a meltdown. With 1:55 left in the third quarter, and the score 31-14 for my Eagles, Kevin stopped playing. He dropped the joystick and went to the bathroom. There must be something particular about 1:55 left in the third quarter, because it seems to be the specific time when Kevin loses his mind. Anyways, after this happened, everything went rapidly downhill. I started picking run plays to just kill the clock, and after I picked one, Kevin sat down and picked a blitz play. What the fuck? I am trying to end the game here, and be gentlemanly, and he blitzes me? Then he starts to play goal line defence and offence. Absolutely insane. I think what set him off is every time he did something weird, I paused the game to write it down. Plus, I kept picking him off and running up the score. He wouldn’t let me kill the clock, even calling time outs when I attempted to kneel, so I just played hard. What the hell was I supposed to do? I mean, he would go offside on purpose, just to prevent me from running out the clock. What other choice did I have? My guess is that Kevin wanted me to run up the score so that he could actually be mad about something, rather than the nothing he has been angry about for two days. That is the only rational explanation for what just happened.

I won the game 62-21, bringing the Eagles record up to 6-2 on the season. My running back, Stephen Jackson, has already rushed for over one thousand yards, and Anquan Boldin has reached one thousand yards receiving. In eight games.

The Eyes of Kevin Kimmis.

Sunday August 13, 2005
2:15 p.m.

The weekend is over. Kevin isn’t talking to me, and is cleaning his house with tempestuous fury. His mercurial, volatile temperament has worn me out, and I am exiting stage left. Somehow, I know this will be all my fault, and Kevin won’t talk to me for weeks. Not until I call him, which is messed up in so many ways I can’t even begin to get my head around it. All I wanted to do was play some football, man. Well, okay, I really wanted to hammer the hell out of Kevin, but I know the feeling was mutual. It just didn’t turn out that way. I went insane last year. I guess it was Kevin's turn this time.

Thursday, August 25, 2005
8:30 p.m.

It has been two weeks since the Madden Weekend. I still haven’t heard a word from Kevin. I haven’t really wanted to post this, for fear that Kevin will go on a Hulk-like rampage, leap on my house, and steal my woman. Then I would have to call in The Avengers or the Fantastic Four and go all clobbering time on his ass. That. I. Do. Not. Want. To. Do. I also refrained from even going near any Madden until last night, when I pulled off a couple big trades in my franchise at home. I traded my first and second round draft picks, along with Nick Barnett, for Ray Lewis and Julian Peterson. I signed Peterson to a three-year deal, and then flipped him for Julius Peppers. This vastly enhances my defence, and I gave up picks that are useless to me anyways. Unlike Kevin and Abboud, I don’t have the patience to draft players properly, so I usually throw away my picks for established or young players who I can build up. Plus, the 1st round picks always hold out for ridiculous kwan, and I have no desire to negotiate with prima donnas.

It’s Clobberin’ Time Kimmis!

I forgot to mention several other things during the earlier postings, and should speak about them now. First off, there is a black punter in Madden 2006. I don’t know who he is, but he is out there. This is amazing to me, since I can’t ever remember there being a black punter in the NFL. I have asked both Kevin and Abboud about this, and neither of them can remember anyone either. Secondly, the music sucks in this game. It is a real drop off from previous years. I particularly loathe the Sam Spence NFL Films “What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor” Mix. It makes me think of elementary music class, not football. Thirdly, there are way more penalties in this game than in previous years, which I like. Defensive pass interference actually gets called in this version of Madden, which is great. Kevin and I rang up more pass interference penalties in a weekend than we had in four or five years of previous playing.

Lastly, I have decided to publish the drafting formula I came up with. Frankly, I think I should get an award for this. More modest men would be content in knowing that it works and that others will use it to their advantage. Not me. I want an award. Some sort of video football sabermetrics award. And I want it presented to me by John Madden himself, so that I can yell at him for forcing the terms “big ol’ paws” and “he got enveloped” into my vocabulary. Speaking of football sabermetrics, here is an article from ESPN that Abboud sent me. I haven’t even read it yet, but I know it will make me angry, mostly because I know it will replica theories and strategies that I have already thought of on my own. Tumnus and I really need to get going on the hockey analysis.


***Note***I am doing the player value off of the top of my head, so I may be off two or three points either way.


At 9:51 AM, Blogger Alex said...

I still don't know the name of the black punter who's currently in the league, but how can you say that you never remember a black punter in the NFL? Does the late, great Reggie Roby mean nothing to you?


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