Denver Sports Fans More Depressed Than, "That time Elway and Jesus were found to to separate people"

AND NOW, PRESENTING THE FIRST FTB (friends of the blog) POST BY THE MAN, THE MYTH, THE LEGEND, FLICKNATION aka THE FREAK aka FLAVA FLICK THE ONE, THE ONLY ROBERT FLICKER:

As I was returned to Chapman from my giant blur that was my spring break, I looked at my phone and was delighted to see that I had received a call from “J Lenny” while I was gone. So I gave him a ring a ling, and after our casual yet breathtaking half an hour of animal phone sex that we do every time were on the phone (I was the lion and he was the cute tiger cub that would do anything to move up in the animal kingdom) Jim offered me a proposition. He told me that I was the one that he wanted me to lead the revolution. A revolution so grand that it will give Gannon Parker faith that he one day may dunk again. (If you are wondering about why I said again, you must of forgot the epic finish in 5th grade slugfest when the titans gold triumphed over titans maroon….world changing stuff). So anyways he gave me the opportunity to lead the FTB (friends of the blog) with a blog post of my own. And I had to take a moment. Why? Why has God (Jim…(we also have a lot of religion phone sex)) given me this monumental opportunity/responsibility? And even more importantly, what should I use this golden platform to talk about? There are so many possibilities….Baseball….the NBA….the NFL draft….or I could simply just use this article to rip on Adam Knaster. (I sense a growing happiness from the readers who just read that last option). I consulted my best friend about this issue…Captain Morgan. He wasn’t much help, because whenever I ask him for advice, his answer is getting naked and making out with ugly chicks. Although that may have been a good read (certainly one David Mullen would have been interested in), I felt that the blog was above such juvenile immaturities that are infested in the godforsaken MTV/Flavor Flav/Oprah Winfrey world that I love. So what then, what????

And then it finally hit me. I would tell the tale of a city and their sports fans. The woe that has overwhelmed the 303

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. (hey that IS kind of catchy, Thank you only reading the first pages of books in AP Lang. And they said I wasn’t paying attention). For the first time ever in the Mile High City, the Denver Broncos were the least talked about sports team. After another very mediocre season from the donkeys, the inhabitants of the drunkest city in America found that they can get shmammered and let that Coors beer belly hang out at other sporting events. The days of waiting for football season had ended. The Rockies were just coming off of a season where they finished with an unbelievable 21-1 streak and actually made it to the World Series (which I believe means that hell has actually frozen over). The Nuggets were proving to be the most sporadic yet also the most dangerous team in the league. Finally, the Avalanche decided that they were going to make a championship run by calling there alumni list from the Stanley Cup years and seeing which ones were still alive and asking them if they remember how to skate. But it worked, and they marched into the playoffs with confidence that the cup would be in Colorado once again. (Or possibly in Sweden as Forsberg uses it as his fruit bowl or where he stores his leftover kidneys, I am not too sure). Yes those were the days.

And then reality started to set in.

Baseball season started and the Rockies showed up as the sub .500 team they were before their miracle run. Decent offense, mediocre starting pitching, and a bullpen that might possibly be calling for me in the next few weeks. Then all the hope that is stirred within the Colorado community (probably because of all the drugs we do), turned to the playoff action. The Avalanche stormed past the Wild, Theodore was looking unstoppable and we were a confident team, truly believing that we would be able to contend with the hated Red Wings. What people forgot was that the Red Wings had been destroying us all season long. People were quickly reminded of this in the first two games of this series. And finally the Nuggets. Oh the Nuggets. Personally, I would rather have Raef Lafrentz honky-ing it up on the court, than watch a bunch of “female dogs” who are currently attempting to set a few records in the hall of shame. (Most technical’s in a 4 game sweep, most whining (currently held by the spurs), and most tattoos EVER (I can’t even tell now if the guys on our team are black or just inked up)). This is the thanks I get for, as Jim would say, tooting Denver’s horn all year round. This is the reality I faced.

This was the harshest reality check I have had since 1997, when Papa Flave (Howard Flicker attorney at law) gave me THE TALK. This is the talk that turned my world upside down and crushed every spirit in my soul. No not that talk (you sick minds). I was a lone trooper in that field with only a bottle of lotion and a roll of toilet paper to guide me. The talk I am referring to is when Papa Flav told me that because of my genes, I would never become a professional athlete and I need to concentrate on my schooling (true story). So as you may assume I was crushed. Just as I am now, a little lost boy in Southern California, watching his teams continue to lose via ESPN’s Gamecast (trust me there is no more brutal way to watch a team lose by seeing a little basketball graphic going into a cartoon hoop).
So what do I do? What do we all do in such desperate times?


Hey, there is always football season.