Monday, August 4, 2014

You Can't Kick Me Anymore, I'm Already Dead.

UPDATE: I wrote this only seeing a headline about the contract. I still stand by what I wrote, shouldn't have given him a single guaranteed dollar.

As I told my friend and fellow Bengals fan/hostage the other night, if the Bengals sign Dalton to a big contract it would be the final clump of dirt on the casket of me caring about the team. Wellllll, lo and behold, today good ole Mikey Boy Brown and his handful of trusted cronies announced to the world that they had decided to hitch Cincinnati's wagon to the grand exploding giant of a star that is the shitty unreliable stupidface Andy Dalton. Last fucking straw in a string of countless broken last fucking straws.

My in person record of watching them is somewhere around 5-2095, which formed me into a very pessimistic sports viewer, last straw? Nahhhh, just imbued me with a dark and perversely enjoyable sense of sports being a cruel loveless place that will not be kind to you in the end, so please don't expect it to be you happless rube.

Cripple the city's budget for two decades to get a shiny stupid new stadium built, last straw? City's fault for being suckered and not thinking that the Bengals play dirty pool.

Price out all the loyal fans that used to go to every game, last straw? Economic realities of today's NFL.

Let Mike Zimmer leave, last straw? Hurtful but foreseeable.

Sign Dalton to anything more than a free McDouble and a small fry, last straw? Yes. Last fucking straw.

Well now that the dirt is completely covering the grave grass will be able to grow over the scarred earth that was me caring in the least bit about this fucking team. Fuck Mike Brown, and no offense to Andy Dalton, get paid son. Just wish it hadn't been from a team that I used to love.