i love the chargers, but i hate myself

Chargers 27, Bengals 24. With a butt-tightening last-second 52-yard field goal by Nate Kaeding. Nine wins in a row now. We win the AFC West and clinch 2nd place in the AFC playoffs. Or, well, wait. The Patriots (booo) won, so maybe not 2nd place sealed yet, but we definitely have a chance for a first-round bye.

I’m sorry. I know you’ll all hate me — I hate myself for it — but I have to post the Super Chargers song.

Because if you’re a Chargers’ fan, there’s usually heartbreak just around the corner, so we learn to enjoy it while we can.

Honestly, it is the dumbest, most infectious little team ditty ever.

The swine flu of team songs.

Oh, do enjoy, pippa.

Also: Chargers, your logo is the lightning bolt, not a horse. We are not “riding across the desert on a fine Arab charger.”

No. We are apparently being electrocuted.

Please get it straight.

Now, sing along, everyone!

color commentary

The Chargers beat the New York Giants yesterday, 21-20, in an absolute nailbiter. San Diego QB Philip Rivers marched the Chargers 80 yards downfield in less than 2 minutes to score the game-winning touchdown with 20 seconds left in the game. New York got the ball back, yes, but in the final play of the game, SD linebacker Shawn Merriman sacked Eli Manning.

Pretty awesome, but only if you’re a Chargers’ fan, which I am, in fair weather, ahem.

But this isn’t the sports column.

This is about me and MB and how he was stuck at the office yesterday and how I provided color commentary for him on the last three minutes of the game. I’m pretty sure that falls under the heading of “wifely duties.” Or it’s in the Constitution or the Bible or something.

So I’m at home, alone, watching the game. I’m freaking out. Screaming to the walls by myself. We’re gonna lose. I hate you, Chargers. You suck. I’m rooting for New York now. Oh, nice. Incomplete pass. We suck. I really hate you, Chargers.

My cell phone rings. It’s MB. “What’s happening in the game?”

“We’re behind by 6. We’re gonna lose. It’s over.”

I’m very positive in my negativity.

“Oh, that sucks.”

“Yep. So, want me to describe the game to you?”

“Sure.”

“Okay. Uh ….. here we go …. Rivers is back, he’s back, he throws, and ……… AHHHHHHHHH!!!! …… I can’t believe it ………. AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

“What? WHAT??”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

“WHAT???”

“Huge HUGE pass completion. We’re on, like, the 20 or something, AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

“Wow!!”

“I know!! Okay. Wait. Here we go again. The clock is ticking, so it’s all hurry up. Rivers is back, he throws … AHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

“What? What? WHAT???? I don’t know what’s happening!! You’re just screaming!!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! We SCORED!!! We SCORED!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!! We’re gonna win!!!”

“WOW!!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

Yes. This was my play by play. Screeching in MB’s ear.

Uhm, I guess I can cross NFL commentator off my list of “Jobs I Think I’d Be Good At.”

Uh, yeah.

Still, I gotta say …… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

is it too early?

Uhm, is it too early in the season to utterly renounce the Chargers?

I mean, I usually renounce them at least once per season, but we’re only four weeks in.

Maybe it’s premature. Still. I’m sorely tempted.

Also, I know this is a sacrilege to say, but I’m getting mighty tired of that LaDainian Tomlinson. He is constantly injured, a delicate diamond-studded flower. Groin pull. Twisted ankle. Hang nail. Runny nose. Ear hair.

Yup. There’s LT, standing on the sidelines, limping in pain from ear hair. Wait. A trainer’s on hand to rub the ear hair, keep it loose, etc. Phhhew. Thank God.

Come ON, precious.

Get up, take those diamond stud earrings out and win us some games!!!

heard on “the nfl on fox”

Troy Aikman: Well, he should have saw that.

You know, at first, I didn’t agree, Troy. I mean, I watched the play and did not see how he could have saw that. But on replay, yeah, duh, he totally should have sawn that.

Those kinds of stupid mistakes are SO embarrassing, aren’t they, Troy Aikman?

football girl with deep football thoughts

My new favorite Charger?

Wide receiver Legedu Naanee.

Why?

Please, pippa.

His name is LEG-a-doo Nah-NAY.

For three hours every Sunday for 16 weeks, I get to prance around the house saying, “LEG-a-doo Nah-NAY, LEG-a-doo Nah-NAY.”

Whether he does anything or not, I just like to say it. Come on. Say it with me now and just see how wonderful you feel:

LEG-a-doo Nah-NAY, LEG-a-doo Nah-NAY.

Nice, isn’t it? And, apparently, “Legedu” means “good is coming” in Nigerian. So, you know, maybe you’re at work, having a horrible day, and you start whispering LEG-a-doo, LEG-a-doo over and over and, suddenly, your boss gives you a raise and some admirer sends you flowers and you spontaneously lose 10 pounds. That ain’t bad, is it?

Why can’t I be named something cool like Legedu?

Tracey is just so prosaic. Also, I’m pretty sure in Greek it means here comes that girl I hate.

Nevertheless, you’ll thank me, peaches, when you all get those big fat raises.

See how sports apply to real life?

wowee wow wow!

A new US Open Tennis champion was crowned today when 20-year-old Argentinian Juan Martin del Potro bested 5-time champion Roger Federer was in a four-hour, five-set scorcher. Wow. What a great match! I love an underdog. Especially a 6-foot 6-inch giant underdog who stumbles over his English when awarded the trophy and asks if he can speak Spanish and then gets all choked up as the words finally flow out of him.

Beautiful.

Dontcha love it?
del-potro.jpg
It’s even better when they’re yummy.

Look, I just report. The yumminess is empirical, pippa.

football sunday

ME: I think we play the Chiefs this week.

HE: Didn’t we play them last week?

(pause)

ME: Well, if you want to get technical about it.

football in london

This is so weird. My (sometime) Chargers are playing the New Orleans Saints in Wembley Stadium right now. I guess the NFL did this last year, this kind of “foreign exchange for football” program, but since it didn’t involve MEE or MY team in any way, it didn’t even blip on my radar. Now, however, it’s personal, Peaches, so I am all agog. Still, have I mentioned this is weird? Well, it’s weird. Although, on the other hand, anything to evangelize the heathen soccer world to the joys of “grid-iron,” as the Brits call it, I should get on board with pronto. Yes. May it spread, dear Lord, like the chicken pox in Miss McGinty’s 2nd grade class. Amen.

Still. It’s WEIRD. The stadium there is packed, 81,000 people, pippa, but I have to wonder — in a totally non-condescending way — how much does the British crowd even understand of the game they’re watching? I mean, I don’t know much about their “football” — just enough for vigorous mocking. So seriously, do they need my assistance? If I were there, perhaps, in the stadium, sitting with a bewildered group of Brits, I could help them know whom to root for-for whom to root. Explain to them about La Dainian. Point out Cocoa Bear, my football boyfriend, known to them only as “Antonio Gates.” Assure them that, yes, 43 is wee, but he’s lightning fast and hard to catch. Tell them that even though the Chargers summarily dumped quarterback Drew Brees after 5 years of steadily so-so service and New Orleans picked him up as their quarterback so that there might be an undertone of, well, bitterness or payback or something to this game is no reason to go all soft and smushy on me and root for the New Orleans Saints. These are things they need to know. Things someone needs to tell them. See how invaluable I might have been if someone had just found me in a sea of 300 million people, appreciated my vast expertise of all things football, said “Hey, will you share your awesome knowledge with the struggling Brits,” offered to pay a couple of thousand dollars for my plane ticket, put me up at the Ritz, limo-ed me to the stadium, and plopped me in the stands, the football savior to a confounded people? Is that so much to expect in this lifetime??

Additionally, I could have helped them realize how inherently lame their National Anthem is. At the start of the game Ne-yo (uhm, ???) sang a lovely, somewhat subdued version of The Star-Spangled Banner. Next, Joss Stone sang a truly Mariah Carey-like version of God Save The Queen. And I’m sorry, Brits. Those lyrics are boring. Tepid. They don’t inspire. They don’t soar. Vocal fireworks are simply inappropriate here. I mean, please, does this really send a chill up your leg: “Send her victorious, happy, and glorious ….. G-O-O-OD SAVE THE QU–EE-EE-EEEEE-NNNNN!” That’s just how Joss Stone sang it and, frankly, it was just sad. Are those really the words that sum up the hopes and dreams and values of the British people? “Uhm, yeah. Don’t mind us, God, or the country at large. Just please save our queen. Make her happy. And victorious. Don’t forget glorious, God. She’s 153 years old, but please save her. And her little dog too.”

Why is this your anthem, England? Why?? It makes me sad that this song is thrust upon you. That would be like us singing Hail to the Chief as our national anthem. You know, there are actually lyrics to that and they are basically retarded:

Hail to the Chief because the chief’s the one we hail to

WHAT??? Thank God that’s not our anthem. I would vehemently oppose it based on piss-poor logic alone.

Sing it with me, people: “Shoot dead your gammie cuz gammie’s who you shoot dead.”

Uhmmm ….. what was this post about again? Football in London or somesuch nonsense? Okay. Well, look, I’m trying to watch the game and write this at the same time. Clearly, I cannot multi-task, but I’m pretty sure you can’t even tell — not one tiny little smidgie. Besides all that, the Chargers are now losing and every Brit in that stadium is clearly rooting for the Saints. I don’t get it. Is San Diego, the Rodney Dangerfield of American cities, now being dissed on an international level? What up wi dat, Crackie?

Anyhoo.

So, yeah, I’m sure England would deeply appreciate my pointing all of this out for them. That their anthem is ridiculous. That the rewritten American version called My Country Tis of Thee is a better song. That maybe they could use that instead, if they … well, maybe just changed that part about pilgrim’s pride.

Look on the bright side, Britain. Perhaps soon, you’ll be allowed to change the lyrics to “God save sharia law …. pry us from freedom’s claw …. God save the law …..”

I didn’t say that. Erase that from your minds. This post is about football, man.

Football and knowledge and helpfulness.

That’s what this post is all about.