FOOTBALL ANALOGIZING: THE LEAD OPTION OF A DRUNK EVENING IN DC IN 2004

by Orson on Feb 25, 2009 1:10 PM EST

Football is like life: it has a playbook, and when it breaks down, people get hurt. Enjoy.

The play begins thusly. We play the part of the quarterback, labeled here as O/S. The idea: to successfully pitch our way through an evening of socializing at a party in DC with the pitchman, our friend the local DC-ite and aspiring political lizard-person, trailing the play. (You ask: how are you friends with a person-lizard? Simple. You just feed them lettuce just like an iguana, and they'll be your friend forever.)

The design of the play is simple: the blockers here are played by our liver and ability to make small talk. They will block the dangerous elements of the defense in order to free movement throughout the party, and if needs be the pitchman will take the ball of conversation or social interaction when alcohol or the awkwardness of discussing anything with the half-reptiles at this largely politico-style party.

(We apologize to the non-reptiles reading this piece who dwell in DC. All seven of them. Stay frosty on the streets, as the business card assassins are forever on the prowl for fresh meat. Or lettuce. They're not picky.)

So, with the consumption of four large solo cups of gin and tonic, we're off the line. Note that alcohol and social awkwardness has been cleanly swept off the line at this stage in the play, and that everyone's assumption that we work in the same field as they do (and thus can be of some benefit to them) serves as a fullback dive, bringing in the linebackers. We're free and clear, and schmoozing our way towards the endzone of a comfortable night crashing on the living room couch slightly drunk with ease.

Signs of trouble appear, though:

"C" must be blocked here. "C" here denotes "Potential Love Interest and Good-Looking Political Type Guy," and will be played by the head of Rahm "Rahmbo" Emanuel. (It wasn't Rahm Emanuel, for the record.) Our pitchman, a single female friend from way back in high school, is suddenly interested. We've lost our blocker, and as qb must deal with an option that has suddenly become an option keeper whether we like it or not. Solo in the defensive backfield with defenders bearing down on us, the situation quickly becomes one of survival.

A savvy qb would step out of bounds at this point and get off the playing field of drunk socializing, living to play another down. This was not what we did, which was to double down on the speed and hope to outrun defenders. On this play, that means accelerating gin consumption and attempting conversation about something humorous and non-political in an party in DC.

As the following diagram shows, we neglected to notice the safety of our gin threshold bearing down on us from the periphery. Working alone in the backfield without a pitchman, we make it just a few steps into a conversation with a Navy demolition diver before disaster strikes:

The safety--imbalanced blood chemistry and ill-advised powerdrinking on an empty stomach, played here by the very embodiment of gin itself, Peter O'Toole--hammers into us like Andy Katzenmoyer powdering Corby Jones' jaw. The quarterback spends the next 45 minutes retching on his knees in the bathroom, a victim of poor play-execution and tenacious defense by basic physiology and awkward socializing.

The option, when run effectively, is unstoppable: but a moment's lapse in the scheme can lead to disaster, as it clearly did for our hero here, who woke up the next morning looking for a city bus to crawl under and die, but found that direct sunlight caused unbearable pain preventing this plan from occurring.

If you have a play from your life you'd like us to plot out, please email us at harumphharumph of the gmail variety. Perhaps we'll use it.

Tweet Comment 18 comments | 0 recs |

Do you like this story?

Comments

Wow. ONE MILLION COCKTAILS to you sir.

by BurritoBrosShits on Feb 25, 2009 1:34 PM EST reply actions

My God. I quarterbacked the forerunner of this offense – a.k.a. the Single Thing – for five months in DC at ireland’s Four Provinces. Final record? No wins, and an ongoing problem with Guinness that continues nine years later. (Problem: two hands, one mouth, and $5.75 a pint most places around Silly Con Valley.)

by Vandy J on Feb 25, 2009 1:44 PM EST reply actions

Orson,

The option is a “wear you down” defense, not every play will work. You needed to man up, put some food in your belly, and keep drinking.

by www.southbendblarney.com on Feb 25, 2009 1:50 PM EST reply actions

Thank God that Larry “Happy Feet” Craig was not involved in an end-around option.

Pun intended.

by yoyofutbawl on Feb 25, 2009 1:52 PM EST reply actions

Isn’t there some EDSBS rule against white guys not named Eric Crouch running the option?

You, sir, are no Eric Crouch…. or drunk Tommie Frazier.

by Land of Os(borne) on Feb 25, 2009 2:10 PM EST reply actions

I hope you took some care to avoid the real Orson Swindle. The whole same matter can’t occupy the same space deal.*

*One of two things learned from Time Cop. The other being that in the 80s we thought the paltry sum of $50MM would be sufficient to buy an election in 2004.

by Herb on Feb 25, 2009 2:14 PM EST reply actions

of course, accelerating alcohol consumption at a dc party almost gaurantees you’ll get laid at the end of it, so if that was the objective of the play, it could’ve worked. age, looks, gender and political affiliation can’t be gauranteed though. probably should have just gone belly dive qb keeps, since the pitchman is always the weakest option in the scheme (unless you’re navy, in which case its whenever you attempt a forward pass.

by thatswhenthewhorescomein on Feb 25, 2009 2:38 PM EST reply actions

Reptile? I resent that. As a Beltway bandit, I think that I lump in with any of your basic rodental scavenger metaphors. If it is to be a non-mammalian analogy, then I’d prefer to be a remora – adding very little value beyond mild consumption of parasites to a relentless and unstoppable creature that is, in evolutionary terms, shaped by a different and distant era.

by DC Trojan on Feb 25, 2009 2:53 PM EST reply actions

As a DC local, your scheme was deficient in personel. You needed to start out with a triple I formation with another solid blocker to work in your backfield. It’s fine to have a talented “athlete” like you did to draw their attention but in this “new era” it is required to have something like “an environmental grant writer” which can stop any “attacking” style D. About eight years ago, “faith based social worker” could really blow the opposition off the ball.

by blazin on Feb 25, 2009 2:54 PM EST reply actions

Are you sure that’s not Eric Roberts , Best of the Best, at safety in that last diagram?

by Brian O'Blivion on Feb 25, 2009 3:31 PM EST reply actions

Can you work out a D call for the female “Friend Trap” play? I think that would help me in vast areas of my social life.

by Just another Michigan Man on Feb 25, 2009 3:32 PM EST reply actions

I know this chick, she intercepted my heart….
/drops microphone, shows self out.

by BurritoBrosShits on Feb 25, 2009 3:38 PM EST reply actions

Your choice of intoxicant was well made for the location of that specific game…your gin and tonic, and specifically the tonic (with quinine), prevented any potential for contracting malaria since DC is both a metaphorical and an actual swamp…so plan=good, equipment=good, execution=not so good. Cheers.

by sb on Feb 25, 2009 4:07 PM EST reply actions

yoyofutbawl – How’s Fort Worth working? Looking out my window at brick-lined Main Street. I haven’t seen the downtown mounted cops recently – worried they may be a budget casualty. Make sure you try the pecan biscuits at Reata.

by Wozzo the Wonder Dog on Feb 25, 2009 4:58 PM EST reply actions

As a GW student and perpetual student of the game, it seems that like in the NFL, the option just isn’t going to work for any period of time. And let’s face it: in this day and age, it is all about sustainability. The problem is dependability. You relied on the players around you knowing their routes and being interested in the same results you were. The reptile in question decided that the yardage wasn’t enough in helping the team to warrant the hard hit, so went her own way, and your blockers seem to have been redshirted and might need some conditioning. It is easy to get carried away in a game day situation like that up in DC, I know, but you put too much faith in the playmakers around you. Next time you’ll remember that you can only trust yourself…or just run the Wildcat.

by GW Gator on Feb 25, 2009 9:38 PM EST reply actions

Brian O’Blivion spews:

Are you sure thats not Eric Roberts , Best of the Best, at safety in that last diagram?

I guess you impress every lesbian in town with your deep knowledge of all things sporty. Now if you could only make your man happy you’d have life by the short hairs.

by Michael on Feb 26, 2009 11:50 AM EST reply actions