Your Team Makes Me Laugh
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About this ebook
The hilarious hateful observations of the by Coach Curt Mudgeon in the world’s foremost collection of football jokes & facts the teams do not want you to know.
You are in a sports bar when a fan of your rival starts talking trash about your team. Coach Curt Mudgeon has your back. He gives you the verbal ammunition to shoot them down with enough wit and humor to earn the admiration from all within earshot. Each team’s chapter has a humorous essay mostly filled with facts their fans don’t want you to know, followed by ten (count ‘em, 10!) “zingers” that cut the team down to size.
Steven Kent McFarlin
Steven Kent McFarlin (AKA “Spanky”) is an award-winning performer, published author, magazine columnist, recording artist, and television writer & producer. He has performed in all 50 states and 23 countries, twice voted “Comedian Of The Year,” once “Campus Performer Of The Year,” and winner of a “Cable Ace Award.” He has over 50 TV appearances, including: THE LATE SHOW, SHOWTIME, GOOD MORNING AMERICA, as well as popular dramas such as ER and PROFILER. McFarlin’s comedy writing experience involves everything from Joan Rivers stage act, to VH-1’s Rotten TV (featuring Johnny Rotten), to a monthly magazine column for Campus Activities Today (distributed to 4,000 colleges nationwide). As a television writer & producer, he has developed comedy for Spike-TV, World Theatre, and Infinity Broadcasting. He also created humorous advertising for Gillette, Mini Cooper, Lone Star Beer, National Football League, Burger King, and others.
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Book preview
Your Team Makes Me Laugh - Steven Kent McFarlin
YOUR TEAM MAKES ME LAUGH
The Unauthorized
Hilariously Hateful Observations
Of Every Team In The League
By
Coach Curt Mudgeon
Copyright 2014 Curt Mudgeon
www.TeamZinger.com
Published on Smashwords
Formatted by eBooksMade4You
* * *
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
* * *
Introduction
zing•er noun [zing-er] : a quick and clever comment that criticizes or insults someone
You are in a sportsbar when a fan of your rival starts talking trash about your team. Coach Curt Mudgeon has your back. He gives you the verbal ammunition to shoot them down with enough wit and humor to earn the admiration from all within earshot. Each team’s chapter has a humorous essay mostly filled with facts their fans don’t want you to know, followed by ten (count ‘em, 10!) zingers
that cut the team down to size.
Furthermore the Coach allows you to show the world how you feel about every team in the league with his fine line of funny t-shirts and onesies.
The perfect gift for the football fans in your life!
Just visit his website: www.TeamZinger.com
The Two Minute Warning:
FIRST DOWNER: The NFL is a fluid organization. Rosters change at a moments notice. If you see information here that is no longer accurate please inform the Coach and he will make a correction.
curt_mudgeon@teamzinger.com
SECOND DOWNER: There are over six hundred attempts at humor in this book. The vast majority of the zingers
were written by me, Coach Curt Mudgeon. However, a handful were overheard at football games and sports bars, so I can’t attest for their originality. In other words, some may not be new, but hopefully new to you.
THIRD DOWNER: Your Team Makes Me Laugh is an Equal Opportunity Offender.
The good news is the Coach makes fun of every team your favorite team plays. The bad news is since your team is not everyone’s favorite...he makes fun of them too.
PUNT: IT IS COMEDY! If you can’t take a joke take a hike.
* * *
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION:
TeamZinger Coaching Philosophy
NFC EAST
Dallas Cowboys
New York Giants
Philadelphia Eagles
Washington Redskins
NFC NORTH
Chicago Bears
Detroit Lions
Green Bay Packers
Minnesota Vikings
NFC SOUTH
Atlanta Falcons
Carolina Panthers
New Orleans Saints
Tampa Bay Buccaneers
NFC WEST
Arizona Cardinals
Saint Louis Rams
San Francisco 49ers
Seattle Seahawks
AFC EAST
Buffalo Bills
Miami Dolphins
New England Patriots
New York Jets
AFC NORTH
Baltimore Ravens
Cincinnati Bengals
Cleveland Browns
Pittsburgh Steelers
AFC SOUTH
Houston Texans
Indianapolis Colts
Jacksonville Jaguars
Tennessee Titans
AFC WEST
Denver Broncos
Kansas City Chiefs
Oakland Raiders
San Diego Chargers
The NFL Officials
* * *
Team Zinger Coaching Philosophy
Why We Zing
On the evolutionary clock, human beings are still in their infancy; scientists estimate that of the 4.54 billion years Earth has existed, man has only been stomping around a scant 195,000 years (whereas the platypus, a rather docile creature, has existed for some 80 million years).
Although homo sapiens,
a vain species if there ever was one, profess supreme superiority by citing the advancement of human civilization, it is undeniable that many of our primal aggressive animal instincts lay buried just below our civil veneer, frequently surfacing to commit atrocities a platypus would be ashamed of. Freud claimed aggression is inevitable and innate – a process void of thought patterns, and driven solely and entirely by our instincts. Thus, some men find pleasure in shooting defenseless animals, while others like to smash a white ball with a stick, and others still combine the two by smacking baby seals. Whether it is bitch-slapping a whore in Grand Theft Auto or watching Freddy Krueger and Michael Myers slice-n-dice teenagers, apparently all men need some outlet to vent our instinctual aggression.
Mine consists of watching twenty-two mutant glandular cases (often hormonally enhanced by performance drugs) wage war over, of all things, a scrap of pig hide. Football: the beautiful ballet of organized violence designed to induce spectators into a state of group temporary insanity. Grown men, otherwise logical and respectable, will scream obscenities from painted faces, beneath hats that hold beers, and feel compelled to remove their shirts in subfreezing temperatures. These are my people!
If aggression is necessary, as some scientists claim, as a means of maintaining social order, this principle is clearly illustrated in the game of football, where dominance is achieved through aggressive brute force. I confess I not only love football, I need it. I shudder to think of what crimes against humanity I might commit if I did not have football as my release valve.
For 16 weeks each year (and occasionally, the post-season) I gather before a television like a Roman at the Coliseum allowing my bloodlust to boil so it can safely drain away. I shed all civility to go back in time and embrace my primal primitive passions with nary a shred of dignity or shame. I am addicted to these afternoons of legal lunacy because when the final whistle blows, regardless of the outcome, I find the day-to-day frustrations and thwarted desires of modern life just a little bit easier to endure.
Although some men of science debate if aggression is a matter of nature or nurture, I can attest that the passion I have for my aggression outlet has nothing to do with my upbringing. My father was one of the rare men who had zero interest in sports. Many years after his death, my dear mother made the mistake of remarrying on December 28th, only to discover that her new husband, like most men, wanted to watch the football bowl games that take place this time of year. By the time he got to the Rose Bowl four days later, my mother officially became a football widow and had her marriage annulled. True story.
Unlike my father, football has always been my guilty pleasure of choice (to this day I will not allow the girl I’m dating to see me watch a football game unless I’m certain it will not end our relationship). I recall, one August, asking my (then) wife if there was anything she wanted to discuss before football season started?
I doubt a lingerie-clad Kate Upton could fully keep my attention in the fall once I hear the opening notes to the National Anthem.
Football embodies all the principles that make America great!
The freedom of speech allows me to shout slanderous statements at strangers. The freedom of the press allows newspapers in places where gambling is illegal to publish the NFL betting lines. The freedom of religion is evident. For example, last Christmas my religious grandparents gave me a Jesus watch. Sure, it's pretty inspirational at 3:45, but every 12:55 I'm thinking Touchdown!
Football promotes equality by being the great economic level, where the poverty stricken can find solace watching millionaires get hurt for their entertainment. God bless football!
Your favorite football team is like your child; it is okay for you to criticize them, but not anyone else. This would be a good place to reveal my favorite team, but I will not, since there is a good chance you hate them. And as any true fan recognizes, football truly is a love-hate relationship. The full enjoyment of the sport is twofold: the love of your favorite team combined with the unabashed hate-fest for their rivals… and their fans. So don’t go hating on TeamZinger because we slammed the team you love, because you probably hate many more teams, and we slammed them too (including my favorite team!)
People of high moral and spiritual character denounce hate in all forms, but I politely beg to differ. I can not begin to express the joy I feel when witnessing the misfortunes of a team I hate. I confess my wrath is not limited to the field of play, as mentioned above, my aggression is directed to fans as well; I can see some poor guy trip and fall flat on his face and immediately feel concern and compassion, however, if he is wearing the jersey of a team I hate,