Last night, the mainstream sports media salivated for hours over Michael Vick’s return – again – to Atlanta to face his old team, the Falcons. Of course, the whole team is practically different with a brand new franchise QB, but that doesn’t stop people from barfing rhetoric over what Vick meant to the Falcons, how his success with the Philadelphia Eagles affects his former fans, and how some fans still worship him over Matt Ryan. Basically, it’s a very lazy implication that white people love Matty Ice and black people love Vick.
Whatever the case may be, it’s our job to look at what truly matters – the actual football game. Each week, I’ll be breaking down a Game of the Week using my cock sure NFL expertise, scientific theories, and pure, unadulterated fact to recap the action and blow your minds. Now put on your assless pants, because we’re going to get funky with the Falcons’ exciting victory over the Eagles.
(Images via the AP and Getty.)
Damn it, we’re still doing this. This won’t end well.
1967 called. It wants its careless racism back.
You know, it’s not like Vick chose to go to prison over staying with the Falcons.
At least one sane person showed up.
And one guy brought his child’s diorama.
Do you guys take requests? How about Hot Chelle Rae’s “Tonight Tonight”? Because Fox didn’t jam that into my ear enough with all of its Emmy promos.
“GAHHHHHH I’M SUCH A WEIRD MAN!”
“Sprinkler… sprinkler… shopping cart… shopping cart… mowing the lawn… mowing the lawn…”
“I am the greatest! Nothing could possibly go wrong!”
“I don’t feel so well, coach.”
Hey, where are you going, Mike?
“I’mma miss you most, Jeremy.”
“God, I can’t wait to watch the Emmys.”
“Put me in, coach.”
“Ouch, I’m hurt, too!”
“Haha, just kidding.”
“Please trade for me, Matt.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll eventually accept you.”
“Aw, don’t feel bad, big fella. Let’s go get a malt.”
“Tonight, tonight, there's a party on the rooftop top of the world..."
“Time to get me a hooker.”
“Get two. I’m buying.”