Greetings from the sports desk located somewhere below decks of the Good Pirate Ship RedState. Sammy the Shark and Karl the Kraken have been blazing balls of fire, pounding out the stories …
Well, pounding down the fish crackers.
Anyway, the NFL postseason draws nigh, and with it, the green manalishi with the two-pronged crown cleverly disguised as the three-pronged announcement of who plays who next regular season, who drafts where in 2025, and who’s looking for a new job. I’ve long found it amusing how the NFL and assorted media trumpets thereof (*coughespncough*) make such a massive deal out of the schedule reveal each spring when it’s been known for months who will be playing whom in the upcoming season, with the only mystery being when. Apparently, we are supposed to overlook how a win or loss in September had the exact same effect on the…
