Life Begins Anew

facebooktwitterreddit

It’s been a long wait, but we’re finally here.  The Chiefs are playing real football tonight.  I had trouble sleeping last night, as I’m sure many of you did.  A heavy dosage of my favorite sleep aid and a late night viewing of MacGruber helped clear my head, but only for so long.  I dreamt of Brandon Flowers and Jamaal Charles and woke up screaming “PIOLI!”  Things are gonna get weird these next few months. 

Do I think the Chiefs can win tonight?  Yeah, I honestly do.  I’ve been waffling on this ever since I bought my ticket, but on this morn, optimism reigns supreme, even for me.  I have serious questions about this team, and my rational mind doesn’t think we’re a legitimate playoff contender.  But if we win tonight something tells me I’ll be screaming playoff predictions in the parking lot afterwards.

And we could win tonight.  We really could.  The Chargers ain’t shit.  I mean sure they always win the division, and they have a great quarterback, and more talented players, and playoff experience, and they’re willing to pay actual American dollars for good players, and their GM can deal with people who aren’t his mentor or his father-in-law.  But can they keep secrets from their fans?

Sorry gang, but I had to take a jab at the Patriot Way there.  It’s a fresh season, I’m excited, and optimism abounds, but I still think a lot of things about the way this team operates are unspeakably lame.  Winning would justify these tactics.  Losing coupled with the ever-present talk of patience will not.  The first year excuses are no longer valid.  It’s time to win some games.

I’m confident in Jamaal Charles, Tamba Hali and Brandon Flowers.  Those are good players.  We’ll need a few more if we’re going to take that all-important step from bad to decent.  As I see it, our hopes essentially rest on Matt Cassel, Brandon Albert, Dwayne Bowe, Dexter McCluster, Glenn Dorsey, Tyson Jackson, and Eric Berry.  These are the players with the highest theoretical ceilings.  I have high hopes for Berry, Bowe and Albert.  The rest are question marks (and thats generous for the Tin Man).  If over half of those seven guys turn the corner, I think we’ll be in for  pretty fun year.

In one hour I’ll be on my way to the Truman Sports Complex in a gigantic van full of my favorite people.  It just doesn’t get any better than that.  Headdress, check.  Tomahawk, check.  Indian beads, check.  Dale Carter jersey, check.  Hatred of Phillip Rivers, check.  Loincloth, pending.  This is going to be an awesome night.