We’re running late with the SabanWatch, but in the meantime, here’s some bitching

Dear NFL: Fuck You. The NFL’s rules on broadcasting games — such as this afternoon’s much ballyhooed contest between the remaining undefeated teams in the league — mean that any market with an un-sold-out local-team game can’t see any other games on TV at the same time, supposedly to encourage in-person attendance. Yes, this means even in Houston, with the Texans on the road.

There are a number of problems with this. On any given Sunday, there are games expected to be interesting — like Colts v. Pats — and games unlikely to be worth two squirts of piss, both in terms of competition and in terms of the later season, like, say, Texans v. Raiders. The NFL doesn’t care what we want to watch, though; they want to control the feeds and force us, if we want to watch football at 3:00 today, to watch the crappy game instead of the one everyone will be talking about tomorrow.

Again: Fuck you, NFL.

It’s really yet another example of old business models trying to force their way through a new world. It’s not gonna happen. The more ways of communication we have, the more ways people like the NFL have to figure out how to block to preserve these chickenshit restrictions. Here’s a clue: give people what they want to buy, and stop doing things like this to piss them off.

This kind of crap is another in the long list of reasons we never, ever go to live games. It’s a shitty experience compared to watching at home, and encourages these absurd rules. Fuck that.

The Chron, believe it or not, has a good piece on it.

Wurstfest Results

So, here we are, all done. Results pleased pretty much everybody, but are inexact because it wasn’t a “chip” race, so if you weren’t at the starting line to begin with your official time is off by as much as a minute or two:

  • Eric: 43/44 and change (under his goal of 9s!);
  • Lindsey: 1:02 or so;
  • Chief Heathen: 1:03 or 1:04 or so, only a bit behind Lindsey;
  • Mrs Heathen: 1:20, with lots more running than walking

We will now commence drinking beer and eating meat.

The Prohibitionists are Coming

Reason runs down the threat to liberty that has grown out of Candy Lightner’s MADD. Lightner founded Mothers Against Drunk Driving in 1980, but now finds their obsession with any alcohol consumption to border on mania. She’s right.

As it happens, pushing the legal limit lower and lower isn’t driven by data at all; it’s more about Carrie Nation redux. Click through for more. Lowering the limit from .1 to .08 did NOTHING statistically meaningful to traffic fatalities, though we’re sure it certainly DID add significant cash to country and city coffers.