Three Conclusions from Broncos 29, Steelers 23

And then did Jesus ride forth into Jerusalem on a Donco...

Remember a few weeks ago when the editors of this venerated publication declared that there would be less Tebow?

Ha ha um, April Fool’s?

Your correspondent has lived in the Denver metropolitan statistical area for 10.5 out of the last twelve years, a period in which my beloved Washington Redskins have won precisely the square root of fuck-all. Since the Skeeeeins are usually all but mathematically eliminated from the playoffs by Week 10 or thereabouts it’s only natural that I begin to turn my attention to what the Doncos are doing, the better with which to seduce the local womenfolk, or something.

Although I still take every opportunity to point out that my Skins beat the ever-loving piss out of Denver in Super Bowl XXII, that game is bittersweet for Redskins fans because it represents the pinnacle of that organization’s achievements to date. Although the Skins still had enough in the tank to dismantle the Buffalo Bills in Super Bowl XXVI, the burgundy & gold jumped the shark when they shitcanned Doug Williams for no good reason. Your correspondent has no confidence they will right the ship under the expert ownership of Dan Snyder, who is young enough that he will probably still own the team when scientists discover the cure for aging. Fuck my life.

So the Broncos are my second team, if only because my sartorial intelligence precludes purple camouflage. I have witnessed the Bronco Nation’s emotional rollercoaster firsthand:

  • the wildly inflated expactations for an aging, repeat Super Bowl™ championship team stripped of its talismanic quarterback;
  • the consignment of imposing Mile High Stadium to the ash heap in favor of bland, taxpayer-subsidized Invesco® Sports Authority® Field at Mile High;
  • a talented Broncos outfit led by the Most Interesting Man in Sports so thoroughly sabotaged by its micromanaging perfectionist head coach that Danny Boy Snyder rewarded him with a contract to do the same thing in DeeCee;
  • The rise and fall of Cutlerfucker;
  • The experiment with evil genius Bill Belichick’s Secret Agent McDaniels; and
  • Tebowmania.

Still, you learn something new every day (try Googling “Santorum“!) and your correspondent faithfully submits three conclusions from Sunday’s engrossing matchup between the Broncos and the Pittsburgh Steelers:

1. Football: It’s a Funny Old Game – Any Given Sunday, etc., etc., insert cliché here. Sports economists have noted that both perfect competitive balance and total domination by a small number of teams erode fan interest and profitability, even for dominant teams and most especially in baseball. I suspect that through revenue sharing, the draft, and other soshulist fabrications the marketing geniuses at the NFL may have found the profit-maximizing balance. Howevah, your correspondent will remain puzzled at how the Broncos can dredge the depths of offensive ineptitude against the lame duck Kansas City Chiefs and then make the vaunted Stillers defense look pedestrian in the space of seven days. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that:

2. Demaryius Thomas is Rather Good – The Broncos’ 2010 first round draft pick had the beating, so to speak, of Ike Turner Taylor all evening long, converting a very efficient four receptions into 204 yards and one touchdown. I still question the wisdom of then-head coach Josh McDouche selecting him ahead of Dez Bryant in the first round, but after an injury-riddled start to his professional career Mr. Thomas stepped up when he was needed most.

Things seemed bleak when Timmeh lost his training camp roomie BFF Eric Decker with a suspected knee sprain at the hands helmet of noted villain James Harrison early in the second quarter; a six point deficit against (supposedly) the best defense in the league loomed more ominously without Denver’s most productive receiver. One more field goal from ex-Redskins mediocrity Shaun Suisham and the Broncos would have found themselves in the black hole (THASS RAYCESS!) otherwise known as a two-score deficit, an adversity over which the 2011 Denver Broncos cannot triumph without the intervention of God and/or Marion Barber. However, Tebow Christ and Mr. Thomas responded immediately with an inch-perfect 51-yard lob to the sideline, and the next play saw the Broncos tie the score with another well executed pass, this time to Eddie Royal in the end zone.

Mr. Thomas’s game winning touchdown a few seconds into overtime capped a breakout performance and showcased all of the pace and power that propelled him to the first round of the draft. To be tough but fair, we could have seen even more. Bad Demaryius made a cameo appearance in the 2nd quarter when he dropped a pass in the red zone under the imminent attention of two Stillers defenders when better focus and a quick drop of the shoulder could have led to a saunter into the end zone. That and some arguably poor on-the-ball decisions to cut left and right when he should have just burned the laboring Ike Taylor in the open field (as he did in overtime) were the only blemishes on an outing that will keep the New England Greatriots’ secondary corps up at night. But if they try to pray the fear away, the New England D may find that:

3. Eastern Orthodoxy is Not the One True Faith – Troy Polamalu was almost a non-entity in this game despite several public displays of Eastcyde Jesus-y devotion. Is Mr. Polamalu solipsistic enough to believe his incantations to a false sky god have any effect on the outcome of a sporting event? Probably, but if so it was all in vain. If Mr. Polamalu was merely asking for there to be no injuries, God apparently hates beards, anaemics, and men who think “no” means “harder”. Therefore, because of logic (it’s Science!™) and the compelling evangelical power of the Tebow it’s super-obvious that Greeks, Slavs, Turks, Russians, Ethiopians, and Troy Polamalu are all going to hell, the end.


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