Colts Week: Neck Beards, Shrimp Cocktail and HH Gregg restrooms

[SCP]

Well it has taken me 5 whole days, 37 showers, a bag of Mini Chewy SweeTarts, a plate of airport nachos, a visit to the Salt Lake City Airport bathroom, and a trip to the Arizona desert to get the stink of Eagle fan off my sexy ass body.  Alas, the rain has washed the last follicle of white trash Phily fan pubes out of BofA stadium and we can welcome the Indianapolis Colts into our house in style.  I just want to conclude that Eagles fans set the bar of filth to a new level so 6-0 has an even better ring to it than it otherwise would have.  Watching that gaggle of losers leave BofA stadium in complete silence was a gift that I will never forget.  So now we go from dealing with a bunch of Rocky Balboa wanna-be’s to a bunch of Gomer Pyle corn-growing sycophants.  A fan base that went from praising a water head under achieving QB to kissing the ass of a neck beard wearing confederate army general looking architect.  

There really is not much smack to talk about Indianapolis.  It’s a fine city with a great downtown area that’s full of nauseatingly nice people.  About 3 months ago I drove a Chevy Spark from Chicago to Indianapolis.  That’s 185 miles in a car that only Matt Ryan would purchase.  It’s a long story but I stepped outside of my comfort zone and rented from Thrifty like a moron.  Needless to say I couldn’t even squeeze out a fart in that little sumbitch without opening the door and sticking out an arm and a leg.  I was 250 lbs of sales guy in 150 lbs of car and I was driving on the straightest stretch of highway through the most boring state in the union where the residents are known as Hoosiers, a term dating back to the 1800’s that means “country bumpkin”.  After an hour or so of driving I caught a cramp in my hammy so I pulled off the interstate to stretch, grab a coffee and take a poop at an HH Gregg store (appliance stores are the best places to poop if you can’t find a Hampton Inn lobby).  While in the stall I began to carve my name into the cinder block wall when a large chunk of mortar cracked and fell to the floor, exposing a dusty room with several civil war era relics.  One item in particular caught my eye, accompanying a picture was a letter from General Andrew Austin Luck of the 101st Independent Battery Indiana Light Artillery written to his old coach, Jim Harbaugh.  Below are the words of General Luck:

My very dearest James:
 
The indications are very strong that we shall march towards Charlotte in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write you again after KK Short and Thomas Davis get to me, I feel impelled to write lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more.
 
Our movement may be one of a few days duration and full of pleasure - and it may be one of severe conflict and pain to me. I harbor nightmares of “Luuuuuke!” chants raining down upon me like powdered sugar on a funnel cake at the Indiana State Fair.  Not my will, but thine Luke, be done. If it is necessary that I should fall on the football field for the Colts, I am ready. I have many misgivings about the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage falters for Charles Pagano does not lead like you lead.  And for the love of Christ my offensive line, James.  They have given me no weapons James.  Ron Jaworski is trying to tell the masses that I have no weapons and that Cam Newton is a running back.  The narrative must be heard! I know how strongly the AFCS championship now leans upon the triumph of my team.  But, my dear ex-coach, I miss your khakis and your shirtless tirades.  I miss your scent.  Chuck Pagano is the English Leather and you are my Drakkar.  While the arc of my football floats calmly and proudly in the breeze, that my unbounded need for you, my darling coach and mentor, should struggle in the fierce contest with the Carolina Panthers?
 
I cannot describe to you my feelings on this calm fall morn, when 52 men are practicing around me, many of them enjoying the last, perhaps, before that of a pounding they will receive in Charlotte NC -- and I, suspicious that Josh Norman is creeping behind me with his fatal dart, am communing with God, my country, and thee.  I fight for Indiana, a state so boring that even Applebee’s had reservations about opening restaurants here.  Sure, we can feast like kings on the shrimp cocktail at St Elmo’s steakhouse, yet I leave with an empty pit in my stomach because shrimp don’t grow in Indiana. I am surrounded by women that artificially inseminate cattle with their bare hands yet they expect me to fight on and win. I must admit, my men will try to fight the good fight but I am worried the Panthers will just keep pounding.
 
James, my love for you and those Stanford days are endless, it seems to bind me to you with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break.  The memories of the blissful moments I have spent with you come creeping over me, and I feel most gratified to God and to you that I have enjoyed them so long. And hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes of future years with Pagano, when God willing, we might still have lived and loved together and seen our team win a Super Bowl. I have enclosed 5 dollars for you to purchase something nice for yourself.  I will send more when I have time.  I will write you again as soon as Ezekiel can deliver new pen and paper from the commissary.  Right now rations are low because we had to leave the ration carts behind after retreating from a New Orleans onslaught in the heart of our city. 
 
Forgive my many interceptions, and the many pains I have caused you.  But, O James! Do not mourn me; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again.  O James, I wait for you there on the practice field! Come to me, and lead thither my team.
 
With love, Andrew

I don’t know what it all means but it was a good read on the john.  As for the game this Monday night, I am f**king excited.  I hope Panther fans, new and old, show up and raise immortal hell.  Panther Nation, do not turn your backs on the new fans.  Embrace the bandwagon.  Open your wings and welcome them into our family.  Teach them the ways!  Teach them that every other team can suck it.  We have to make our joint rock so our defensive line can feast on that Colts o-line and Andrew Luck.  I think we will sack Luck 3 times on Monday night and he will face pressure the entire game.  Our front 7 will shut down the Colts run game and Luck will throw two interceptions.  Our offensive line will impose their will and we will keep pounding and keep pounding and run the ball for 190 yards.  Jonathan Stewart will rush for over 100 yards and Mike Tolbert will score two touchdowns. We will win the time of possession battle and roll to a 14 point victory.  In the immortal words of Jim Naybors, suck it Indiana.

Panthers 28
Colts 14

[Daddy_Uncle]

Beard is staying at BOA to warn all other bitches not to bring a poorly groomed beard into Jerry's house. 

[Daddy_Uncle]

Taking a poop at work to read this to honor SCP

[L-TownCat]

But, my dear ex-coach, I miss your khakis and your shirtless tirades.  I miss your scent.  Chuck Pagano is the English Leather and you are my Drakkar.

fuggin priceless

I miss Drakkar Noir.  (Is Cam still their spokesman?) 

[Asurfaholic]

And this is definitely the other reason I joined huddle. With content like this, there's no other place I need to fap at. 

[ecu88]

SCP has spoken, poo just got real!  

 

Edit:  I am trying to get hype for MNF but I have feelings General Luck and the Colts will get a beat down.  This game was suppose to be a big time match up not a deflated game...........Colts haven't been the same since 'Deflategate'.

[Chaos]

Pagano is the English Leather - dead

[Navy_football]

SCP, I was getting worried. Would have called you out tomorrow if you didn't post this. Need you and Philly to make these priorities every week. 

[CarolinaXblue]

Great as always!

[GRWatcher]

But, my dear ex-coach, I miss your khakis and your shirtless tirades.  I miss your scent.  

Ok. I lost it right there.  

[KSpan]

Methinks that SCP has been spending much time philosophizing with PhillyB. The results, however, are undeniably exquisite. Carry on SCP and PhillyB, carry on.

[KRAKENUPSON]

I'm in tears laughing. I don't know how you come up with this stuff.

[PhillyB]

literarily this is the best thing you've ever conjured up and easily my favorite piece. worth the wait

[CarolinaSunday]

I lived in Indiana for 10 years before I was able to get back to the Carolinas. Your descriptions of it being the most boring state in the country is the truest statement that ever truthed.