Christmas break 2007 is in the books, and Grand Forks is once again in my rear view mirror. GameDay 2007 was wonderful, as the Culligan Fab 5 was reunited for the first time in over a year. Big ups to Jon-Jon for hosting so we didn't have to do it at someone's parents' house, which would've been just awful. Taking the Fab 5 comparison a step further (which is most likely one step too far):
I would be Jalen Rose because I think I'm a lot more awesome than I probably am;
Horp is Chris Webber because he does the most things that are real-life equivalents of calling a time-out in the National Championship when you don't have any left;
Noles is Jimmy King because he shows flashes of brilliance and is quietly the heart and soul of the Fab 5;
Jon-Jon is Juwan Howard because I can't think of a single good thing to say about him, but not a bad thing either;
Fundy is Ray Jackson because no one has heard anything from either one of them since 1994.
Big D (the 6th man Eric Riley) was also in the mix, mostly just to start controversy by starting the typical Pac-10 vs. ACC argument, and to pour steak seasoning in Noles' punishment shot of Morgan after he knocked over the Jenga tower, then deny it for the better part of an hour.
Other highlights of break:
Watching Dunph throw the bowling ball on the Wii like he's Dontrielle Willis. Granted, it was like 4 am, but I still think I'm changing your name in my phone to D-Train.
Watching Seth decide that the dance floor scene at Gilly's wasn't to his liking anymore. Now, for a normal person, this decision would result in you quietly walking off of the dance floor, getting a beer, and finding your friends. For a drunken time bomb like Seth, it involves shattering your vodka sour on the floor, pushing your way outside, doing a snow angel outside the front door, and getting up and sprinting 12 blocks to your house, stopping at Subway on the way home to purchase a foot-long and steal 14 bags of potato chips. True story.
Finding my holy grail of the last 10 years: the original Sim City at my parents' house, which will end up being the best present I receive this year.
The "Ski Jumps" debacle at Bonzer's. That's gonna have to stay an inside joke to be enjoyed by those who were there. Don't even ask.
Taking the voice mail game to a whole new stratosphere. Starting Saturday night and stretching into the wee hours of Sunday morning, 8 of us left 62 messages on Horp's phone. Now this in itself is a very solid performance, but when we found out that his flight out of Phoenix left early that morning, and he couldn't shut his phone off because it was his alarm, and he had to sit there at 4 am and listen to his phone ring that many times....it extends the shelf life of voice mail game for another 5-7 years at least. By the way, at this point we need a new name for voice mail game, suggestions are welcome. Maybe we should just call it "Fuck You."
Putting a nice touch on the weekend was my fantasy team overcoming my arch-rival Jake and capturing my first ever championship. In the interest of full disclosure, I had the #1 coach ranking and the #1 strength of schedule in my league, so whether I won the title or not, I was gonna talk shit. Hey, if you're not in fantasy football to either cock off or whine incessantly (or both), then I don't know what you're in it for. So please give it up for team Boomshakalaka!
QB- Kurt Warner (after Jon Kitna started playing like a 7th grader)
RB- Brian Westbrook (my boy)
RB- Clinton Portis
WR- Joey Galloway
WR- T.J. Houshmandzadeh (my sleeper that paid off)
WR- Patrick Crayton (after Roy Williams got hurt)
TE- Ben Watson
K- Phil Dawson
DEF- Jacksonville
Looks pretty brutal on paper, doesn't it? These are the teams that win championships when mental toughness comes into play.....and when Tom Brady and Tony Romo both shit the bed during the semifinals. Should I send Jessica Simpson a hand-written thank you card, or do you think this will suffice?
Lastly, The Very Schneweis Christmas CD is once again outstanding. The year that Schneweis doesn't rock my face off with his music is the year of the Apocalypse. Keep on keepin' on.
