The Makeout Machine Gun, STEVE JOHNSON, and Wedding Bands

by Ryan

I’m going to try putting something competent together for tomorrow, but there still is plenty to talk about from last night. I’m not really sure how any of this will fit together, so I’m going to fragment it all and see what happens. A mix of actual analysis, dark humor, and depressing as hell material will follow.

– The last text message I received before my phone died was from Chris. I’m sure he won’t mind me sharing:

“Take your wedding ring off the next time you kick the f#$king ball you goddamn piece of s#$t. And spell your first name right.”

If I wasn’t lying in a heap on a metal bleacher I would have found that hilarious.

– After Brady Quinn gave some interviews he wiped his face with a towel and tossed it into the crowd. So yeah, there’s a Brady Quinn sweat-towel floating around Buffalo now. If you see Brett Michaels in town you now know why.

– This one is a direct message to 289. I’m giving you this picture and letting you do with it what you will.

I’m not suggesting anything, but that boy looks like he could use a nice hot wiener or seventy.

– Did anyone get the memo about our new superstar receiver?

Steve Johnson.

During the first preseason game we had one of our 3,000 fantasy football drafts. One thing we couldn’t get over was the fact that a receiver had his full name on the back of his jersey. No way that guy makes the practice squad, let alone the team, right? When you can’t even get an S. or St. back there, you know it’s not going to last. Aside from Marshawn, who led the team in reception yards last night?

STEVE MOTHERF#$KING JOHNSON.

– Isn’t it nice to see the return of Trent “F#$k it, I’m checking down” Edwards? The quarterback we anointed Lord and savior has morphed into the Antichrist over the last month. I’m telling you, that concussion put the devil into the boy.

He doesn’t even look like Trent Edwards in that picture. Perhaps that’s because his eyes are moving through progressions so fast he looks like a slot machine. Let’s put it this way, when the crowd is literally screaming out the names of wide open receivers that you don’t see, it may be time to slow things down a bit. I don’t blame Evans at all for fleeing the Ralph like it was a crime scene last night. If he stuck around for questions he may have murdered someone from the AP.

Hardy running free in the end zone. Evans beating his man clean on a double move. Roscoe open on an out. These weren’t receivers who had a step or two, these were receivers who were running good clean routes while their quarterback was too scared to throw against a putrid defense he should have picked clean. The Browns didn’t get any pressure on Trent Edwards, but the pressure he put on himself swallowed him up and simultaneously ripped his balls off. That may sound like a bad Brady Quinn joke, but that’s as good an explanation of what happend last night as I can find.

– Also without balls is Dick Jauron, who was actually out coached by someone resembling a pile of dog crap. If you don’t have faith in your quarterback to get you another ten yards closer to that field goal, I don’t know what to tell you. Why not let Marshawn throw a pass, then? He’s 1/1 in his career and looked like he would do anything to win that game last night. Running him into an eight man box wasn’t going to cut it.

– Question: If Rex Grossman is the Sex Cannon, should we call Trent the “Makeout Machine Gun”? He seems like the “I’m afraid to try anything but this is okay let’s keep doing this” type…

– Just to get this on record: there’s no freaking way you can go to J.P. Losman now. I’ve said it here before and I’ll say it again: when ownership gave Trent Edwards the keys they effectively ended any level of productivity from J.P. Losman. Whatever happens with Trent we are stuck with, for better or worse. The revolving door at quarterback simply has to stop, and so whatever struggles Trent has we are going to put up with with them for the long haul.

The decision seemed like a no brainer last year, but you had to understand what it meant in the long term for this team. Giving Trent the starting spot alters the course of the franchise and subsequently kills the development of yet another young quarterback. Throwing J.P. under the bus meant Trent Edwards must be the starter for the next two-plus years, and right now that starting quarterback has zero chemistry with a top five wide out. Super.

– Is this picture ever going to be okay?

No, I don’t think it will. I really do feel for Rian, he has been a very good kicker for the Bills, but this one is going to stick for a long time.

– I’ve never been so mentally sick after a football game in my life. There was a level of shock to last year’s Dallas game that wasn’t there yesterday. We weren’t supposed to win last year, and how stupidly it ended was just cushioned the blow in a way. It was like a college basketball game where the underdog home team loses on a ridiculous three at the buzzer.

Last night was a must win and a game that was more than winable. Even with all the stupid turnovers and the defense slipping up, special teams and a huge effort from your running back kept you in and gave you the lead. The win was there, and hope was still alive. Last year’s Monday Night Football loss was crushing, but not season-ending crushing. This game was like giving blood, except when the nurse brings out the needle she kicks you in the testicles and takes your wallet.

– The people directly behind me were a lot of fun to watch a game with. I’ve never met them before in my life, but they were the kind of Bills fan you’d love to be friends with. Sarcastic, knowledgeable, and willing to be drunk-loud yet still be friendly. Taking a look around the interwebs today there was a lot of Bills fan bashing, but it was nice to know from experience there are plenty of good guys (and girls) out there.

– Anyone think the playoffs are possible? No? Okay, just checking.

I still have a bunch of little ideas on the Bills that may be mini posts, but oh look it’s time for the Sabres to play 45-50 minutes of hockey. Awesome.