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By Citizen K
Sun-drenched Seahawks Stadium was yesterday the site of a very likeable event, namely, a win by the Seahawks. But even more appealing than the victory was the play of certain individuals and squads, whose luminescence was unhideable under even the most tightly-woven bushel. In fact, their skills were showcased to the NFL like a rhinoplasted Buzz Aldrin brandishing his hot daughter—err, granddaughter—err, trophy grandwife—around Hollywood.
Citizen K, for the most part, (as you may already be aware,) hates corporate sponsorships like Aztecs hate la Malinche and rappers hate decency. However, he believes the Hawks might have truly found gold with one of their major contributors, Qwest, whose Line-Backer™ service has been well adapated to the gridiron environ in the form of an incredible group of defenders. Loofah, Jew-Peat, and Leroy “The Vulcan” Hill played like Wal-Mart customers intent on procuring the $30 DVD player, as they knocked down, stomped, trampled, and generally wreaked havoc upon the offense of the Bucs. Loofah wowed the crowd with his stable of delightful impressions, including Tony Roma (as he carved up Cadillac Williams’ ribs after first tenderizing him,) and Sheryl Crow violently rejecting Lance Armstrong’s teabag proposal (as he punched the ball out on the opening drive.) Citizen K likes Loofah as the game’s MVP , as he read plays like a Broadway producer, and hit with Katrina devastation force. Jew-Peat and The Vulcan were right with him, making sacks like Teong Chuan Plastic Company, stalking the line of scrimmage like John Hinkley, Jr., and halting runs like Immodium. What a game by this crew!
Citizen K likes suspense movies, but oddly dislikes suspense in real life. Thus, he liked the second half of this game very much, as it contained absolutely no tension whatsoever. The Seahawks’ defense came ouf of halftime as brawny and stout as Bruce Vilanch’s suspenders, and the game was basically over at that point. Huge plays were made by, among others, Rocky Bernard (big hits on Garcia and McCown,) Patrick Kerney and Bryce Fisher (high-low blast on sack of Garcia,) Jew-Peat and Hill (pounding of Garcia, forcing him out,) Chuck Darby (big tackles and 1/2 sack,) Craig Terrill (tipped passes and big stop,) and Kelly “Toothpick” Jennings (pass defensed, surehanded tackles, and a fumble return.) The defense so far is looking as inspired as Moses, and is playing as fast as the Micro Machines guy talked and as hard as Gwen Stefani’s stomach. Like the attentions of Mark Foley, they’re all on the same page; many times during the game incompletions and sacks were forced by the Verizon-like total coverage by the defensive backfield combined with a relentless, “Sally Struthers pursuing yum-yums” pass rush. If the first game of the year is any indication, the offseason pickups of Mora, Grant, Russell, and Kerney will be as successful as the Battle of Navarino was at ending Muslim piracy in the Mediterranean.
Citizen K doesn’t like Jerramy “LOL—it’s Jerramy Stevens” Stevens. That's all he has to say about that.
Unsurprisingly, Citizen K likes it when the Seahawks score points. This generally requires an offense as magnificent and flowing as Absalom’s hair, and a return game devoid of irresponsible and brainless, Cindy Sheehan-like penalties. These goals were both achieved at times during Sunday’s game, although not yet consistently. Shaun Alexander, Citizen K’s second-most admired player, like a refreshing summer rainfall started slowly with a yarddrop here and there—even getting stuffed on third and short—but picked up momentum, transforming into a gale-force downpour of yardage by the game’s end. Deion Branch apparently didn’t even dress for the game, and D.J. “DJ Hackett” Hackett got hurt, but their absences were concealed by great receiver play by Na-Bur, Bobby “Geritol” Engram, Mack Strong, Marcus “Geritol Jr.” Pollard, and Maurice “Change of Pace” Morris. SA even caught a couple of passes! (albeit juggling them, but still, baby steps…) Their receiving efforts were assisted by an incredible blocking performance by the Offensive Line which rivaled Jessica Alba’s tight package in its perfection. Sacks, penalties, blown blocks, blitzes—all were, like the city of Jericho, basically reduced to nonexistence. Chuck Taylorly (conversely,) the Bucs had a spate of offensive and special teams whoopsies that took them out of big plays several times and put them at a huge competitive disadvantage; (as if playing the Hawks in Seattle wasn’t enough…) The Hawks will need a more complete offensive game to beat better teams this season, but it’s obvious that, like Casey Jones, they’re on the right track.
Citizen K would like to mention the special teams again. He liked Na-Bur’s long returns, but SO MUCH disliked the negative “gains” “earned” on multiple returns, the long returns given up, and the poor decision making while returning kicks out of the end zone. If the team had lost this game, the play of the special teams might have been a big contributor to the defeat. On the other hand, Citizen K wears a ring. Seriously though, on the other hand, the big yardage they gave up on returns was, like John Edwards’ riches, earned through less-than-moral means, and it was justly returned to its rightful owner, the Seahawks. However, that leaves the problem of the returners stuttering like Blue Jays’ manager John Gibbons, cutting back, and losing yardage. That is a problem that, like your kitten or husband, must be fixed in order to avoid unwanted results in the future. Again, Citizen K for the most part likes Na-Bur returning kicks, especially the sweet stiffarm chastisement he levied against the Bucs’ punter’s insubordinate helmet on the 56 yard return that set up the Hawks’ first TD. (Citizen K is certain Leonard Weaver had to change his pants on the sideline after that play.)
In all, Citizen K liked the win. The team is, like Fred Thompson for President, displaying great potential in virtually all phases of the game, and, unlike John McCain for President, or Amy Winehouse, is revealing few—if any—noticeable weaknesses. Teamwork, like French armpits, is strong, and the short passing attack is flourishing like grass around a septic tank drainfield. Good showing, so far.
Derrick Brooks – sir cork be dork
Josh Bidwell – who beds Jill
That’s it. Sorry, my anagram software apparently doesn’t like Bucs names.