Weeks 16-17: Dreamboys

My family really liked the Christmas gifts I got them. At least, I think they did. I flew in the day before, on Christmas Eve. We stayed up late that night, catching up, eating holiday sweets, and debating the selflessness of local newscasters “bringing Christmas” to physically defective people (“Disabled,” I gently corrected my mother. “I think the term is physically _disabled_.” “Whatever you call them.”).

Christmas morning, I had my father, brother, and mother sit while I brought out their Christmas gifts. They were the reason behind the mysterious second suitcase I had brought with me, which I now lugged down the stairs.

Ever the showman, I had designed three rounds of gifts for everybody, to build the excitement. After I had handed out the last gifts and stood there beaming, it slowly dawned on me that I was the only person handing out gifts this year. (I even had a microsecond of doubt, wondering whether I’d gotten my holidays confused, and was supposed to have brought a costume to go beg our neighbors for candy later.)

It didn’t really bother me. I had treated myself to a Sony camcorder a few days earlier, and felt like I had everything I wanted anyway. I was just happy they were enjoying their gifts. At least I thought they were.

“How was your day?” we asked my mother after she came home from the office.

She began pulling containers out of the refrigerator, disgustedly. “All anyone can talk about is Christmas.” Fake high pitched voice. “‘Did you have a nice Christmas? How was your Christmas?’ ‘What did you get for Christmas?’”

“What did you tell them?” asked my brother.

“I told them we don’t exchange Christmas gifts.”

“What about the Prada bag, the Coach handbag, and the cashmere scarf he got you?”

My mother looked at us blankly. “Oh.” Then, “I forgot.”

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect anyone to keep a ledger of every nice thing I’ve ever done for them and be able to recall it at will. I’d be hard-pressed to tell you what exactly I received for Xmas last year.

But when it’s only December 27th. . .

(Come to think of it, did I get anything last year?)

random thoughts. . .

You know that movie, “Freedom Writers”, the umpteenth one in which a white schoolteacher travels into the heart of the ghetto to lift up the lives of inner city students? I’d like to see them make a movie where a black schoolteacher from the ghetto travels up to an all-white suburban prep school, where every day he makes the students feel worse and worse about themselves. At the end of the movie, all of the students kill themselves out of shame and guilt. Then it cuts to a clip of the “I Have a Dream” speech before the closing credits, to make it artsy.

onto the games. . .

Week 16: With the Panthers’ playoff hopes still alive, the Chris Weinke era roared into its third exciting week as the Tar Heel Terror Squad met their archrival Falcons! The conundrum was a simple one: the Panthers are the most talented team in football, capable of beating any team in the league. The problem: Weinke is offensive poison. How do you create a game plan around a guy who’s 1-17? The answer: simple yet brilliant. Play without the QB! Unbelievably, on eight separate third downs, the Panthers took Weinke out of the game and snapped the ball directly to RB DeAngelo Willams, who ran for a first down seven times with an extra blocker in place! Do you understand how demoralizing that is to a defense? They’re saying: Hey over there. We are going to hike the ball to our running back on this play and he is going to run through you for a first down. That’s it. No tricks. Ready? Here we go. This is like watching an Italian guy walk over to the bar where you’re talking to your girlfriend, stand between you two, and proceed to buy her a drink. And you can’t do anything but watch as he starts squeezing her butt.

Panthers win, 10-3. At 7-8, with a win and Giants’ and Packers’ losses the following week, they would make the postseason!

Week 17: With the Giants winning the night before, the Panthers knew coming into the game that their season was over. For 29 teams in this league, it would be time to phone it in (see Atlanta’s ’05 season-ending stinker, 11-44 to the Panthers). But there’s no “quit” in “Panthers.” There’s not even a “qui,” a “qu,” or a “q.” QB Jake Delhomme, carrying himself with the kind of confidence that going after Chris Weinke will do for you, returned with a vengeance, going 23-of-27 for 207 yards and two touchdowns, including a beautiful 22-yard “Hail Smitty” to Steve Smith to tie the game 7-7 in the first quarter!

The New Orleans crowd realized they were seeing something magical. Even the Saints starters asked to be taken out of the game, sensing a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to bear witness to perfection. The Panthers were an offensive juggernaut, shutting down New Orleans like an illegal Daniela Cicarelli video (http://www.porkolt.com/other/daniela+cicarelli/voyeur/beach/spain/brasileira/ronaldo/daniela-cicarellis-beach-sex-6166.html), winning 31-21. As the Panthers exited the Superdome, heads held proudly high, the Saints couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief, knowing that the better team had won, and but for a stretch of bad luck, would have been the ones going to the playoffs. The statistics may say that New Orleans won the NFC South, but the true champions of the division, the moral victors, are the people’s champion. America’s Team.

Your Carolina Panthers.

Until next year.

RROWRRRRRRRR!

[Superbly entertaining video clip: http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=ab33ca0726 (whether this is a real newscast, I have no idea, but it’s very funny regardless)]