In honor of Kurt Warner’s retirement we are dusting off our classic Kurt Warner column. TMRzoo is giving you our readers a flashback to last year’s Suberbowl story “Suds With Securb: SuperBowl XLIII – Who Gives a Flying….”. This profanity laced column was one of my favorites it also got some great feedback from our readers.
Once again TMR was spot on in predicting the outcome of the Superbowl. We were also able to shed some light on the spiritual side of Kurt Warner. So with out futher fanfare here is your Suds with Securb – Flashback.
Suds With Securb: SuperBowl XLIII – Who Gives a Flying….
As I settle in to write my yearly Superbowl column, I turn on the tube only to see couples figure skating on one channel and snowboarding on the other. Football season, college and professional, is officially over. Is this all we have left to entertain ourselves with? I don’t know which is worse.
With snowboarding I can sit around waiting for some stoner to smash their melon. On the flipside with figure skating, is the occasional oops moment and a tit comes flying out. I vote to skip both. You can always find the highlights on YouTube. Either way you are looking at boobs
I know what you Cardinals and Steelers fans are thinking… “What is this nimrod talking about football being over? We still have the Probowl and The game of all games, The Superbowl, left.”
We all know the Probowl is a non event. A bunch of millionaires on a Hawaiian vacation playing catch does not make a sporting event.
I can’t remember the last time we had more of a “who gives a shit” Superbowl on deck. The last game the Arizona Cardinals played that I actually enjoyed watching was when Rod Tidwell was on the roster…
Yet another point of non-interest for me is Arizona QB Kurt Warner. What kind of pussy whipped, spineless, lady-man lets his bitch wife call out the players on his team? Kurt also claims to be a religious man. I am calling bullshit on that one. I know he must have made a deal with the devil to get into the big game again.
I know the negotiations went something like this:
Kurt: “OK Satan you get my eternal soul and I get another Superbowl ring.”
Lucifer: “Deal if you can get me some good tickets to the game.”
Kurt: “No problem I can get you a great seat right next to my wife Brenda”
Lucifer (Uncomfortably): Um… Kurt I don’t know how to say this but your wife looks kind of like a guy. I don’t want people to see me on TV at the game and thinking I am sitting next to a transvestite, I have a reputation to uphold you know.”
Kurt: “Dude you don’t have to apologize I know she looks a bit manly. I was going to ask you to do something about it but I figured I would be taking advantage of our friendship. I don’t want to infringe, but can you do anything about it? I feel like I’m banging a man.”
Lucifer: Fuck! Kurt you are asking a lot but I really want your soul. This is the best deal I can put on the table. I get your eternal soul and the Superbowl tickets… there better be parking passes. In return you get the NFC Championship – not the Superbowl, I make your wife look like a woman, but I get to make Anquan Boldin go bat shit crazy at the end of the season.”
Kurt: “I guess that is fair. I do still owe you for the Tom Brady thing. Done and done. As long as I don’t have to roommate with Bill Belichick in Hell.”
Lucifer: ” Deal!”
Brenda Warner before and after Kurt Warnner’s deal with Satan.
Yo Pittsburg, Blitzburg… ‘whatever you want to call yourselves’ fans can stop laughing because you are just as pitiful. Yes I know the last time you were in the Superbowl the whole country was behind you, but now those of us outside of Steeltown don’t give a shit.
Last time around we all wanted to see Jerome Bettis and Coach Cowher get their due recognition. This time around there is nothing to root for. Mike Tomlin? I don’t think so. Tony Dungy already broke the color barrier for coaches and with Obama sitting in the chair of power, a black coach winning the Superbowl is a “who gives a fuck” minute. Been there, done that. If a black coach wins the Stanley Cup then I will be once again impressed.
The only reason I am watching this game is it gives me a reason to sit on my ass, drink some beer and eat some nachos. So this being a Suds With Securb column I guess I have to tie this rambling to beer in some way.
In years past I have tied the Superbowl to beers brewed in the cities of the representing teams. Other times I have tied the names of the beers to the players or teams. I could get into the whole Hop Devil thing or Lucifer’s even Damnation, which are all great beers. Yet once again this is a “who gives a fuck” minute and a non Superbowl.
So here is the scoop… I am simply going to suggest you drink what I am drinking during the game. Most likely I will have a tray of something spicy next to me during the game. I have been jonesing for spicy chicken skewers. With spicy food you want a hoppy beer. I will be drinking Sierra Nevada Harvest.
Sierra Nevada Harvest – This beer pours a rich amber color with an eggshell head. There is the aroma of hops that will knock you off your feet. There is also a bready malt flavor that you can dig for in the finish but this beer is all about hops. 65 IBUs of hops to be correct but it seems like more.
Commercial Description: The cornerstone of our Harvest series is the beer that started the modern-day fresh hop ale phenomenon in America, our original Harvest Ale. Created in 1996, Harvest Ale features Cascade and Centennial hops from the Yakima Valley in Eastern Washington. These hops are harvested and shipped as “wet” un-dried hops—the same day they are picked—to our brewery in Chico where our brewers eagerly wait to get them into the brew kettle while their oils and resins are still at their peak.