Playoffs! Ravens/Patriots

So a week and a day after the epic battle between the Ravens and the Denver Broncos, people are STILL talking about it as if the game just ended. But now it's time to focus on more important matters, namely the AFC Championship game this evening, where my RAVENS will be taking on the hated New England Patriots. Everyone that follows the sport (and probably a whole bunch of folk that don't) know how the game between these two, at the same venue, under the same circumstances, ended a year ago, and NO ONE who roots for the Ravens wants to see anything like that happen again (and I'm not going to repeat what went down; if you don't know how that game ended, too bad, go look it up. I shan't be speaknig of it ever again...)

So will this rematch end in another loss? Are the oddsmakers who have the Patriots as 9 point favorites right? Do all the "experts" predicting my Ravens to get blown out know what they're talking about? In a word, NO. Okay, let me make it two words: HELL NO!

There's no team that plays the New England Patriots tougher than the Baltimore Ravens. There ain't no blowouts happening here, unless it is the Ravens who get on a roll with Cool Joe Flacco playing bombs away on the Patriots secondary. But although I think we will certainly see some of that, Pats quarterback tom Brady will put his share of points on the board as well. That being said, I think the Ravens defense will slow down the Patriots offense a little bit more than the Patriots defense will slow down the Ravens offense. I think as the game goes on , our pass rush will eventually get to Tom Brady, and Brady, like Peyton Manning before him, is just not that good after he gets smacked around a few times. Eventually, he's going to make a big mistake at a key juncture after getting a little pressure put on him.

This will be a shootout, but the RAVENS will make the plays at the end, and Brady will give up a key turnover that will help swing the tide in our favor.

My prediction: Ravens 35, Patriots 30

SUPER BOWL BOUND!

The Help

So earlier in the week, I headed down to the corner CVS. I was still basking in the afterglow of my Baltimore Ravens wild and crazy upset victory over Peyton Manning and the Denver Broncos, and was rocking my Ravens hoodie and a purple wool cap when I walked into the store. As I was walking around, I noticed this guy in a store uniform eyeballing me every step of the way. I go into the CVS enough that I'm familiar with most everyone that works there, but I hadn't seen this guy before. So why was he giving me the stink eye?

Finally, I decided to mosey on over to where he was stocking shelves to find out what was up.
"Ravens ain't shit", he said when I got close to him.
"Excuuuuse me?"
"Ravens ain't shit. They got lucky in that game against the Broncos."

Really? This is how you talk to customers? Okay...

"Ummmmm, let me ask you a question." I said while chuckling and shaking my head. "Are you new here? This is the first I've ever seen you."

"Yeah, I just started."
"So you think it's a good idea - as a new employee who hasn't established any rapport with the regular clientele - to start antagonizing customers the first time you see them?"

He stood there, looking confused. I wasn't sure if he didn't understand the notion of not pissing off customers, if he didn't get that there's a time and place for expressing his dislike of the Ravens, and this wasn't it, or if he just didn't know the meaning of the word "antagonize." Whatever the case was, I just walked away shaking my head at this jackass...only he started following me, talking shit about how he couldn't stand the Ravens, this player ain't this, that player ain't that, they were a lucky team, I bet I wouldn't be wearing any more Ravens gear after they lost against New England, blah blah blah...

Dude, don't you have a job to do?

Finally, I had enough. "Look," I said. "I came in here to buy these few items, not to talk shit with the help. Maybe you should go back and do your job." He looked like he wanted to open up a can of whoop ass on me, but before he could say anything else, he spotted the manager walking in our directly, and slunk off back to whatever shelf he was stocking.

"RAVENS BABY!" I yelled at him, and laughed while I was walking off that he couldn't say anything now that the manager was right next to him...

Playoffs! Ravens/Broncos

So, I came pretty close in my prediction of the Ravens win over the Colts this past Sunday. I had it 24-14 Ravens, and the defense actually did even better at keeping points off the board (even those they bent but not broke to the tune of 87 plays, 419 yards and 37 minutes time of possession by the Colts) in their 24-9 victory. Now comes the Denver Broncos and Peyton Manning.

Not many people are giving us much of a chance at winning this one. Certainly, the so-called "experts" aren't in our favor. I guess it makes sense on the surface; the Broncos kicked our butts when we played a few weeks ago, and the Ravens have never beaten Manning, so why pick Denver to lose?

Well...#1, the Ravens were not close to full strength when we played them earlier this season. #2, the game really turned on one play, the hideous pass by Joe Flacco as the Raven were on the verge of scoring to make  it a 10-7 (or at worst 10-3) game, which was intercepted and returned for a touchdown by the Broncos. Suddenly, a 10-7 likelihood became a 17-0 disaster. Ball game, and illusion that the Broncos are a far superior team. #3, very few of those players from all those losses by the Ravens to Peyton Manning are still around playing with the team, so that 9-game personal winning streak by Manning doesn't really carry that much weight with me. #4, Peyton's playoff record is fairly mediocre - 9 wins versus 10 losses - and he hasn't been anything special in cold weather (predicted 18 degrees in Denver today). #1, every year a #1 seed gets bumped off in the divisional round; why now the Broncos this year?

So...my prediction: the Broncos start off fast, but the ravens (like last week) bend but don't break, forcing Denver into field goals instead of touchdowns. The Ravens offense, much like in the first Ravens/Broncos game, get off to another miserable start, but the team gets helped by a big Jacoby Jones touchdown and an Ed Reed interception for a TD, and the Ravens go into halftime with a lead,despite having done a thing on offense. In the second half, however, the offense gets it going and puts together a couple of scoring drives. the defense continues to give up chunks of yardage to Peyton, but the Broncos will only score one TD (and another Field Goal).

In the end, my RAVENS are victorious on the road, 27-22! On to New England (who will beat Houston), and revenge/redemption for last year's heartbreaking Lee Evans/Billy Cundiff disaster!

I am NOT the Father...

So  I was riding the bus the other evening after a (sort of) hard day at work, and sitting across the aisle from me is this very unattractive, very, obnoxious, very vulgar, very LOUD young "lady" (and believe me, I use that term very loosely), obliterating the ears and sensibilities of a bus full of commuters just trying to have a peaceful end to their days (can I just play my damned Words With Friends without having to hear you embarrass yourself at the top of your lungs?). Everything that came out of her mouth - whether she was on her phone, talking to the other female sitting with her, or just (so it seemed) just raging to no one in particular about God knows what - was just a profane, nonsensical stream of craziness.

At some point during this ride (well, at several points actually, but only this one point of significance), I looked up from my phone and cast a quick side eye across the aisle in her direction. Unfortunately for me, she happened to be looking enough in my direction at the same time to catch my side eye...

"Why the F--- you looking at me?" She bellowed
"Excuse me, I'm not looking at you" I lied.
"Nigga, please, you was lookin' right at me!" (I was) "What, you like me or somethin'? You want some of this?" (Absolutely, positively, unequivocally, HELL TO THE NAW would there ever be anything about your loud, ignant, ill-shaped, Buckwheat haired, gold toofused, sloppy ass that would make me remotely want you, even if you were the last woman on earth...)

"I'm just sitting here minding my business."
"Yeah right, you want some of me..." And on and on she went, proclaiming that a) I must want her, and b) I wasn't man enough for her (expressed in as a crude a fashion as you might imagine). I sat there, pretending to ignore her, but listening intently, all the while sensing that the other passengers were looking in my direction wondering why I was taking her insults without a response. The fact was, I was too damned tired to get into a back a forth with her; besides which, doing so would just be a waste ("Never argue with an idiot; onlookers might not be able to tell the difference"). However, I did want to have an opportunity to get in a good shot at her; my smart ass tendencies wouldn't allow me to have it any other way. So I waited, confident that this ignant broad would present me with a set up to get back at her.

And then it happened. The bus finally got to Mz. Thang's stop, and as she lifted her big, awkward body out of her seat, still yapping, she leaned over in front of me and said, "And look at you; you oooooolllllllddddd! Don't nobody want your old ass! You old enough to be my father! Sheeeeeiiiittt, you might just be my father for all I know!"

BINGO!

"Well, miss" I said, "I'm pretty sure I've never had sex with anyone ugly enough to spit out something that looks like you. So no, I'm not your father..."

POW!

She was staggered by the verbal blow, enough that she didn't have anything to come back at me with. Just then the bus pulled to her stop, and she got off, the whole threatening to F--- me up if she ever saw me again. Meanwhile, I went back to take my next turn in Words With Friends as I quietly soaked up the laughter around me...

Playoffs!

Well, one of my favorite times of year is upon us: the start of the NFL Playoffs!

Once again, my beloved Baltimore Ravens are back in the mix - for the fifth straight year, the only current team that can make that claim! Unlike a lot of my perpetually Eeyore-like Baltimore fans (there must be something in the waters of the Patapsco River that  makes some of us so down in the mouth), I feel very good about the Ravens' opening round playoff against the Indianapolis Colts.

This is a game that will have no shortage of drama. You've got the former BALTIMORE Colts, who the Ravens haven't beaten in the playoffs in a couple of tries, You've got their head coach, Chuck Pagano - who a year ago was OUR defensive Coordinator, coming back to the sidelines after treatment for leukemia, and of course you've got the GREAT Ray Lewis playing possibly his last home game after announcing his retirement earlier this week.

So with all that drama, who do I pick? Well the RAVENS, of course! I think Running Backs Ray Rice and Bernard Pierce run wild, the defense forces Colts Quarterback Andrew Luck into making a few mistakes, and the Ravens win, 24-14. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!

P.S. - To my old friend, Gregg, a Redskins fan even though he grew up in West Baltimore (how someone can make that conversion I'll never understand, but hey, different strokes for different folks), I can only say, Dude, I know you're a dedicated fan, but that Redskins tie you "showed off" on Facebook might be the ugliest thing ever!

I don't think I will ever be enough of a fan of any team to wear something this horrendous, but hey, wear it with pride, brother, even if it IS for the Foreskins, err, Redskins...

I Love "Writing"; I Just Hate to WRITE

I know many of the Angry Nerd's readers (well, many might not quite be the right word; how about "several of the Angry Nerd's handful of readers"?) have been asking me lately why I haven't been posting much lately. I've wondered this myself, as I go through these occasional periods of not posting despite having plenty of material that I could be putting out there. Well I think I finally figured it out, and the answer is this post's title: I love "writing", but I just hate to WRITE...

So what the heck does that mean, you ask? Well, my experiences, background, personal history, the people I know, the people I cross paths with, conversations I overhear (eavesdrop on), things I read or see on television or Internet, etc. provide me with a never ending source of ideas to write about...only that "writing" mostly takes place in the grey matter between my ears. Even though I carry a small notepad with me almost everywhere I go, ostensibly to write stuff down to use in this blog and in the collection of short stories that are all in various stages of incompletion, about all that ever gets written in them are occasional one-liners of blog/story ideas, or maybe a quote or two of something I've overheard. Otherwise, everything is all "written out" in my head, where it rattles around for weeks or months (or in a few cases, years) before I get around to sitting down to my computer to transfer my words into a form that someone else beside me might some day be able to read. And even then, it still takes longer than it needs to, due to distractions or just plain procrastination. See, like most writers, I suffer from writer's block; the difference with me is that my writer's block is rarely a mental one, but almost always a physical one. There's just something in me that makes me not want to physically write or type all these words that fill my head. Come to think of it, there may be some underlying mental thing that makes me so reluctant to put my stories in physical form - or maybe it's just plain laziness - but in any case, it tends to get words out of my head and into a word program file.

This is obviously not a good situation for someone who claims to want people to read and know the inner workings of his mind (or at the very least, the projections of "cleverness" he likes to convince himself he possesses). I even thought about paying someone to type my shit for me. That, however, was an idea with two major flaws: one, I would probably have to pay someone (I mean, unless I found someone who was so enamored of my brilliance that they would do it for free - OK, stop laughing - or, maybe finally found my true soulmate who would do it for me just because she loved me so much - yeah, I know, that's even funnier); and two, in dictating my stories to someone, it kinda means I would actually have to talk to that person -- ehhhh, I don't think so...of course, I guess I could dictate the stories into a recorder and have someone do dictation off of that, but, really, has anyone really listened to what my recorded voice sounds like? They'd be asleep before they finished typing the first paragraph...

 The good thing, though, is that since I started writing this blog, this condition of not wanting to write my "writings" has changed from being a seemingly permanent one to one that is more cyclical, or perhaps more accurately, like a see saw. The way it works is like this:

1. Write a couple of blog posts and additions to my assorted short stories. Get tired of physically having to write stuff down. The see saw slams down hard on the side of no physical writing.
2. After a period of time (a week, week and a half), people start asking when the next post is coming. "Leave me alone," I think. "I don't feel like writing" - meaning, I don't feel like physically sitting down and transferring the next post(s) from my brain - where they have already been completed - to my computer.
3. After a little more time passes, the questions about when the next post is become more frequent and insistent. Now instead of feeling annoyed, I start feeling guilty and lapsing into a brand self-flagellation that I am particularly good at. The see saw starts to give a little and rise up towards level.
4. Finally, I the combination of guilt and desire to show off what's been rolling around in my head rises to a level that is greater than my hatred of typing. The tipping point is reached, the see saw slams down hard the other way, and you loyal Angry Nerd devotees get to be dazzled by my brilliance until such point as I decide that I've written enough and I'm tired and the whole thing starts over again.

I say all of that to tell you you that if you want to know what the hell's been up with me, be warned: you're about to get hit with as much Angry Nerd crap as I can stand to spew for the time being. Enjoy it while it lasts...

Baltimorons: Parent of the Year, Nominee #1

So I get on the bus to head home from work, and of course, it's crowded. A woman who got on the bus at the same stop I did sat down in the last available seat, next to a young mother with a toddler son sitting on her lap, playing with his mom's cell phone. Soon after the bus pulled off from my stop, however, the mother took the phone from the child to make a call. If you've ever witnessed a little one having something taken from them that they really wanted (and cell phones seem to be as addictive to children as to adults), you know what happened next: an epic tantrum. The little darling proceeded to go completely apeshit, screaming and kicking and flailing like there was there was no tomorrow. But then, he took it to an extra special level: he turned towards the lady who had just sat down and hauled off and hit her. The mother, who had to have seen this, did and said nothing. The woman who got hit just sort of smiled and let it go.

The little darling, emboldened by these responses, decided that if no one was going to stop him, then he was going to keep taking his anger out on this stranger sitting next to him. And so he did, repeatedly. And the lady continued to quietly take it, the mother continued to talk on the phone and ignore what was going on, and everyone else witnessing the scene grew more and more frustrated. We couldn't figure out who we were madder at: the mother for letting her child hit this stranger, or stranger for not doing anything about it. Was she that patient and saintly a woman? Was she too tired or too scared to say something to the mother? DO SOMETHING!

Then, after this kid apparently got tired of whacking on someone who had nothing to do with him not being able to play with his mother's phone, decided he would take things out on the guilty party. He turned and popped his mother right in the face. "Let me call you right back," the mother said, and then she proceeded to whip the crap out of her child. "You don't hit your mother! Don't you ever hit your mother!" she screamed as she beat his ass. Okay, I'm all for a child not hitting his mother, but why in the hell should he be able to whale on a total stranger? "Don't hit me, but if you hit the nice lady sitting next to you, I won't say anything"...

After the kid calmed down from his beating, he sat quietly in his mother's lap - for about 15 seconds - and then turned and started hitting the lady again. And again his mother said and did nothing; she had resumed her phone conversation and couldn't be bothered. This continued all the way until the lady got to her stop. The next lady who sat down and immediately shot the kid and his mother a look that said "I wish a muthafucka would..."  And you know what, the kid didn't even try to raise his hand again. That kid's momma might have been a fool, but I guess she wasn't "raising" one...