Let’s say the season starts with the draft. The draft in which we pick the successor to Peyton Manning. A guy named Andrew Luck. From that momentous point, we have to endure a season’s worth of press about how RGIII is the best quarterback of all time despite missing several games and blowing out his knee. All our guy did was turn around a 2-14 team and make the playoffs, all while running for his life on most plays.
During the summer, I, and I alone, predict good things for the Colts. As The Father can verify, I said it was probable the Colts would go 8-8 given the weaknesses in our division and no one giving us credit. Every other prognosticator and blogger predicts ruin. This proves I am smarter than them (except they’ve somehow found a way to make money doing this).
Also during the pre-preseason, my brother Paddy launches the “Make Our Mark in the Bathroom” campaign that sees us loitering in public restrooms distributing WeAreIndy.com literature. This is an activity I enjoy immensely, so I readily adopted a wide stance and invited restroom visitors to see what was in my pocket. I must say that of all our fans, state troopers and sheriffs seem to be our biggest fans if you go by the number of questions they ask.
In order to rehabilitate our reputations at that point, our consultants suggested we take some orphans to training camp, which we did because it was much cheaper to take them to camp than to actually pay to take them to a game. While at camp, we watch new Coach Pagano give a Steelers fan a Colts jersey and watch that Steelers fan give Pagano leukemia. [Editor’s note: we acknowledge that leukemia is not communicable or transferable in anyway].
The season starts
poorly as it always does off great with me and Paddy bickering about who is going to blog while the Colts tank a few games.
This was followed by the shock of learning that Pagano had leukemia, having acquired it from a Steelers fan. [Editor’s note: sorry] A guy named Head Coach of the Arizona Cardinals takes over on an interim basis. The team pulls together and does things like leaving the coach’s light on in his office. In sympathy, I set my thermostat to 60 degrees for the rest of the winter. The Colts and their cheerleaders shave their heads in honor of Paddy and me.
The Colts immediately start looking for a motto, and I submit “Chuck Halfhearted Effort,” “Chuck Meh,” and “Leave a Business Card in a Bathroom for Chuck.” None of these were selected. The ever fashionable Paddy, submitted “Chuck Sarong” but something was lost in translation and Paddy inadvertently kicks off the “Chuck Strong” movement.
Fired up, the Colts beat Green Bay, in a stunning victory, made even more stunning by the fact that I went home early and didn’t see the end of the game.
The Colts then go on a run, winning a bunch of games, with Andrew Luck throwing for some TDs, running for some TDs, and kicking few TDs.
We honk a game against New England, but they don’t make it to the Super Bowl so it all turns out OK in the end.
The Colts win a few more games, Coach Pagano recovers from Steelers-Induced Leukemia [Editor’s note: many sincere apologies], and inexplicably make it into the playoffs.
Equally miraculous, The Family acquires tickets to the last regular season game which promises to be awful since we couldn’t improve our playoff seed and the Texans (rumored to be good) were coming to town. The Father, who is legally blind, drives us to Indy. We go to our seats where we were preparing ourselves to watch our second and third stringers, when all of a sudden our first team decides to show up and play because they heard me, Paddy, The Father, and WOOF Award Winner Dean were all in attendance. Andrew Luck gets a touchdown or something. We leave as very happy Colts fans.
The Sister took our tickets and made some art thing I don’t understand.
Then, the playoffs. Which we honk. But it is OK because the team that beat us eventually went on to win the whole thing. I’m just glad that Ray Lewis didn’t stab Andrew Luck, hide his clothes, and lie to investigators. That would have been bad for the NFL.
There was a Super Bowl that I didn’t care about that came after a Pro Bowl that I didn’t care about.
And now, having gone full circle—from training camp to the last regular season game—we are back at the beginning. No updates on WeAreIndy.com. Paddy yelling at me to get content up while providing none himself. Dreaming and scheming about our bathroom plans for the next season.
And speaking of bathrooms, I’m going to mine to wash my hands. Just in case someone with leukemia coughed on my keyboard.