The Couch Slouch
Greatness For the Destined
In a Year of Destiny -- Item 1: Some guy catches a football on his helmet to deny the New England Patriots perfection; Item 2: Michael Phelps swims into uncharted waters; Item 3: Barack Obama -- Couch Slouch has been a destiny-bound dervish.
With the sole and sad exception of the Player of Destiny, Colt Brennan (chained to the bench by the terminally pedestrian Washington Redskins, an organization with a singular lack of vision), all of my vested interests have been destiny's darlings:
Arizona Cardinals, Team of Destiny: When everyone else counted them out, I counted them in. When the pundits said, "Can't win it," I said, "Kurt Warner." When no one else believed, I believed no one else. I told America at season's dawn that my Cardinals would be "the worst 10-6 team in the NFL," and, well, The Man was pretty darn close.
The Cardinals can't run the ball and they can't stop the run. They haven't won a home playoff game since 1947. And, on occasion, their fine coach, Ken Whisenhunt, is a knucklehead. No matter. If you are a team that has trailed by scores of 34-0, 28-0, 21-0 and 47-0 and you still make the postseason, destiny has taken a hand. In this case, destiny has one destination: Tampa, for Super Bowl XLIII.
I don't mind telling you, dear readers, that the day the Cardinals walk onto the field as the NFC's Super Bowl representative will be the proudest day of my life.
Pabst Blue Ribbon, Beer of Destiny: I was mocked by the beer cognoscenti -- the preening, posturing Samuel Adams Winter Ale drinkers who sip their bourgeois swill with a pinky finger in the air -- when I made PBR my choice of brew.
Well, what a year it's been for the beer that should've made Milwaukee famous.
All across the land, in outposts large and small, people are saying, "PBR me ASAP!" Pabst has become hip for hipsters and trendy for trendsetters. College kids are discovering it, retirees are rediscovering it.
PBR is versatile. It goes well with all food (with the possible exception of Brussels sprouts), and it tastes good at any time of day (particularly noon, early evening and late night).
It has -- dare I say? -- affordable drinkability.
There's even a fellow in Illinois who has designed his coffin in the shape of a PBR can. I have a call into him to see if I can sublet.
Rhino Page, Bowler of Destiny: This was nearly a disaster. I anointed this kid the greatest thing since the automatic ball return after his PBA rookie-of-the-year season, and what does he do? He turns into Barney Rubble, that's what.