The AWAY game

One might assume that, this being primarily a football blog, away game would refer to a football team going on the road. However, as the Pix ages, things like a simple bowel movement take on much more significance. Gone are the days of ghost shits (perfect logs that disappear without the need for even a single sheet) and time on the bowl without a 2 year old walking in and asking whatever it is that a two year old asks. These days, laying cable, stocking the pond with brown trout, dropping the Jacksons off at the pool...can occasionally become an adventure. This is in no small part because the internal "warning system" we are all born with begins to break down as one ages. When the Pix was a younger man, there would usually be a simple warning with a thirty minute window left to operate. Invariably, this would leave enough time on the clock to get home, find the office hopper with the friendliest confines, or seek out some reasonable place to take care of business. No problem. The "warning system", however, along with a general decline in diet, began to fail some years back and, unfortunately for the Pix (and the Wal Mart on the Lynnway) has on rare occasions failed to work altogether. When the short to no warning sign comes, one must find an immediate venue for a suitable "away" game. A Port-o-John, the ocean, a restaurant or gas station, the airport, the ladies room (i.e the secret mission in enemy territory), all of these places have and must be used in emergencies. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don't. In the spirit of growing older and away games becoming more and more dicey, the Pix will choose all road teams this week.......and share some stories. All stories are true and happened to people who are known readers of the Pix. The identities will be kept secret until you see the Pix and bribe him with a can of deliciousness.....then I'll tell you. The Pix: Last week 10-5, for entertainment purposes only. And, um, gambling.


Houston at Titans -6. The first story comes from Mr. Vegas. Mr. Vegas is lactose intolerant and could be the subject of this entire blog post. One time on the way to Old Town from Boston, Mr. Vegas had a situation that as he describes it, "called for immediate attention". MV's warning system may be one of the faultiest on the planet and went off somewhere in the Callahan tunnel. The combination of bad traffic, car fumes and stomach cramps that would make a woman in labor relate forced MV to rush into the 99 restaurant in Revere and sprint to the men's room for relief. To his horror, the single stall was occupado. The following conversation ensued:

MV: "Um, buddy, how much longer are you going to be"
Random shitter: "Um, I just started"
MV: "Seriously, dude, I need to go now".
RS: "I'm going to be 'a while'".

Never in the history of man have the two words, "a while", had such dire consequences. In retrospect, Mr. Vegas had no choice but to go to enemy territory for the secret mission, but this he did not do. Yes, getting busted in the ladies room buffaloing the bowl may seem suboptimal, but MV's choice to roll the dice ended badly. Driving 70 miles an hour through three towns and getting safely to his front door wasn't enough. We all know that feeling you get when you think you've "made it". Mr. Vegas gambled. And lost. While putting his key in the front door.

Saints at Eagles -1. This heart warming tale comes from Colby college. It seems there was a mythical beast who went by the moniker "YUG" who was notorious for beating on freshmen football players and fraternity pledges. He was a giant boy with an evil temper and a penchant for keg beer and Chinese food. One particularly unfortunate evening, "YUG got his drink and eat on in a Herculean way. As the story goes, "YUG" got a late warning call and tried to reach the dorm facility in time. Alas, it was too late. Being the gentle soul that he was, he demanded two freshmen pledges assist him off the hopper he was stuck on and to dispose of his badly soiled undergarments. These quick thinking gentlemen threw YUG's bvd's out a third story dorm bathroom window onto the quad, landing in a much traveled walkway leading to the campus' main classroom facility. Unfortunately for YUG, his mother must have worried about her little boy losing his drawers, because she sewed his name into the back of them. Unsurprisingly, YUG got himself a new nickname that fine day.

Bengals +9 at Packers. As most readers know, The Pix went to Green Bay last year to witness football Mecca firsthand. What the readers don't know, is that the Pix had a "code brown" in the Fleet Farm (think walmart for hunters) that rivaled the Cuban missile crisis. After a steady 48 hour diet of bacon, eggs, beer, steak, french fries etc...the Pix was trying desperately to move some product at the hunting lodge before the troops headed out for the day. No dice. Fully aware of the dangerous situation, the Pix was on the lookout for any public facility that could be employed in an emergency. While wandering the isles of Fleet Farm, the call came. Code brown. Def con 5. No warning. 30 seconds at most until a nuclear event. The Pix grabbed the nearest employee (a 105 lb, 17 year old girl) and pleaded for information regarding an employee rest room. Shocked and alarmed at the look on the Pix' face, the following conversation ensued:

girl: "I,I,I,I,I'm ssssssorry sir, but, but, but there's a men's room at isle 12".
Pix: "WHERE IN THE LOVE OF GOD AND ALL THAT IS HOLY IS ISLE 12??!?!??!?!"

The Pix began to sprint, knocking over old people, carriages, workers and a rack of hunter orange Packer jerseys. In what only could be described as perhaps the biggest break in the life of the Pix, the men's room was clean and completely empty. After literally replaying the scene from "Dumb and Dumber" (the one where Lloyd puts turbo-lax in his buddies drink), the Pix emerged a new man. To this day, for many reasons, the greatest away game in the life of the Pix.

Oakland at KC -3.
Arizona at Jax -3
Minn -9 at Detroit.

Carolina at ATL -6. Another classic from the class of '89 at Colby College. There once was a man named "filthy Jerg". Strangely, the nickname actually pre-dates this story. It goes something like this....some dude gets engaged and the Jerg and his boys are invited to the couples' house for a boys weekend. The fiancee is out of town and has left instructions for the house to remain immaculate while she is away. You can probably tell where this is going. The animals play beer dye on her aunt's antique dining room table (probably the only item of any worth in the house) and the Jerg proceeds to drink himself into a stupor. He wakes up in the middle of the night on the bathroom floor not knowing where he is, but aware that he has puked and shat himself. He disrobes, but the stench of his own vile liquids overwhelm him and he proceeds to repeat heaving and crapping. In a twisted moment of Jerg logic, he decides he'll try to clean up this crime scene using the bath towels and bath mat. Extrapolating Jerg logic, he then decides he can't just put this stuff in the trash, so he grabs a shovel from the garage and buries his refuse in the middle of the back yard. The following conversation ensues:
Friend: "Jerg, why are you holding that shovel?"
Jerg: "Um, no reason."
Friend: "Dude, did you just bury our towels and bathmat in the back yard?"
Jerg: "Um, no."

Rams at Redskins -9. Sorry to get off topic, but the sound of Paula Deen's voice makes me want to kill someone. And that someone, is Paula Deen.

Tampa Bay at Buffalo -6. Go and google "George Brett shits himself". Just do it. Don't ever say the Pix never gave you anything.

Seattle at 49ers -1. Welcome back.

Baltimore at Chargers -3.
Browns at Denver -3.
Steelers at Bears +3.
Colts at Miami +3

Giants at Cowboys -3. It's 1994. A good friend of the Pix, let's call him Dirty, is one of the groomsmen at wedding somewhere in the South. There is a bridesmaid there who is way out of his league in the looks department, but when Dirty is on his game, he's been known to pull off some major upsets. It's evident right from the start of the weekend that Dirty has his A+ game going. All the jokes are landing, he's managing his buzz perfectly and he's now headed into the wedding reception at 2-1 odds to hook up with the hottest chick in the building. There's just one problem. He's neglected to manage his "away game" effectively. He's been partying for three days and has yet to successfully duke. He lets this slip his mind as he goes in for close at the end of the night. Somehow he manages to arrive at his room with the young lass when he gets the warning. Rumble, rumble. No time. Must go. While his girl waits for him, he proceeds to violate the bathroom in a manner against most international laws and certainly all moral ones. He thinks about the courtesy flush, but decides against it as it may serve as a warning to something going awry in the Sowetan ghetto he has just created. He breaks out into a full lather as he considers his options. As he leaves the crime scene, the girl arises from the bed and announces she wants to brush her teeth. The following conversation ensues:
Dirty: "You CAN'T go in there!" (a little too loudly)
Hottie: "what?"
Dirty: "Um, he, he, I, a, just, I'd just give it a little time, OK?"
Hottie: "Don't worry, I have three brothers. It can't be that bad".
Dirty: "No, Really, I'm warning you."

Hottie turns the corner and steps one foot inside bathroom. Dirty can't watch.

Hottie: "OH MY GOD. WHAT THE HELL? WHAT THE? THAT'S H-O-R-R-I-B-L-E!!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? OH MY GOD! YOU DIDN'T EVEN TURN THE FAN ON!"
Dirty: "I really don't think it would have mattered."

You get the picture. Amazingly, she stayed, but they both passed out while waiting for the air to clear. She was gone when he woke up.

Which brings us to....

Patriots 31, Jets 17. The Guru prepares for away games better than any coach in the NFL. He has beaten the Jets 7 consecutive times in the Meadow lands. Gas bag and Dirty Sanchez will get flushed this Sunday and the miserable stench that is 60,000 Jet fans will never clear.

By the way, one of these stories was completely fabricated. Go to comments section. Correct answers will recieve a can of deliciousness and/or a kick to the scrotalia.


Enjoy the weekend. Pix out.