The Panthers on National News and No Response from the Brethren? My word.

Brethren: There are a various sundry of reasons that Nacho and I have taken a little under a week to post about the Steve Smith happenings. But the only one that matters goes back to this here mission statement: the Sports Brethren came about as a way for two wayward, cross-country brethren to keep in contact over the things that matter: the Carolina Panthers, drunken musings, and boobs.

And so it just happens to be that the same day Steve Smith decided to introduce his fist to Ken Lucas's eye socket, the Sports Brethren just happened to both be flying to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for five days of suns'out'guns'out, burs, delectable meals, and family trash talk.

But nary you worry your pretty little heads, we ranted, raved, and guffawed about the Cats all week long. We do have some thoughts, I have gathered what I can recall, and we'd like to share what we think, desde:


Brethren (cont'd): First up, Steve Smith: am I pissed that he is suspended for the first 2 games against some potentially tough opponents? Yes. Do I agree with the decision the Panthers made? Yes. Do I think this will cost the Panthers the season? Not at all.

Steve Smith wants to prove he's the most baddest muthafucka on the field at all times. I'm down with that -- it makes him tenacious, it makes him explosive, it makes him the most talented player on our roster. It can also make him an idiot who doesn't think about the consequences of breaking a teammate's nose.

The thing that really impressed me about the whole "star receiver beating up star cornerback" debacle was how the Panthers as a team showed their true colors: upper management wouldn't stand for this behavior, the captains (Jake, Moose, et al) spoke openly and honestly with the media, and both Lucas and Smith seemed to play the situation right: Lucas forgiving, Smith remorseful and determined to build back what he burned down. I'm glad this incident didn't become a Farvian circus, as it easily could have become. I'm glad the vocal leaders took charge and would not let their season derail before getting out of the station. I think we'll all look back and say, "Oh yea, didn't Steve Smith get suspended for those first two games for some reason?"

But then again, I'm the kind of guy who will find whatever silver lining can be found when it comes to the Panthers. I'll believe anything (because I know the Panthers kick fucking ass). So now I'm hoping that maybe Steve Smith needed a reminder that he's got a bit of HST in him. He needed to know that the Edge... there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. Yea, that sounds right.

And now that he knows, he's ready to come back badder, meaner, and ready to fuck up some Viking ass come Week 3.

Beyond the Smith news, there were things to discuss in SpantanburgLand: Peppers seems poised to have a big year, the O-Line has gotten massive and is doing well, and oh yea, bring on Peyton this weekend. More than that, well, it was probably just drunken rambling between Capt, Nacho, Mammy, Sisterin and Brethren.
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Week 13: We won. Hooray.

Brethren: Well, looky there. We played a football game at our home stadium and won. Maybe not a reason to celebrate for most normal, good teams, but the Carolina Panthers are neither normal or good. So without checking any facts or any game film, only my imbibed memory, let's take a looksie: How did this happen?

I can think of a few reasons:

- David Carr was inactive. Do not let this fact go unnoticed.

- Trent Dilfer is not very good.

- Our defense took advantage of those two facts.

More golden gems/patented bulleted thoughts and Nacho's words, following:

Brethren (cont'd): So I really do think most of this season can be blamed on David Carr. I don't personally know the man, but I do watch our team perform when he's at the helm, and when he's not, and I have recognized a few things:

- This defense is good, but they wear down. How do you stop them from wearing down? You have them play less. How does that happen? By keeping the offense on the field. David Carr was inept at doing that.

- Vinny T might make mistakes, but at least he looks like a man -- not a girl -- when he does.

- Vinny T knows how to get Steve Smith the ball; David Carr does not. Our team performs better when Steve Smith gets the ball more often.

These are simple things. But they are important. David Carr, please go away. We can live -- and win apparently -- without you.

Other thoughts:

- I love Jake Delhomme. I love him. He was so fired up after that first TD when (don't know his first name) Rossario caught a Vinny T bullet. I loved it. I miss the guy.

- I love Steve Smith. I love him. He talked so much shit to Nate Clement today and it rocked. That scene at the end of the first half where he got in Clement's face and wouldn't back down made me happy he's on my team.

- I watch all the Panthers games with my buddy Steve, a fellow Charlottean and Panthers fan. It was quite telling that all day, whenever a play went the Panthers' way (which was actually quite often), neither he nor I would cheer. We'd merely nod at each other, as to say, "I'll take that." That's the kind of deflating attitude David Carr has put on us. We used to be cheery and rambunctious. Now, a slight head nod will suffice a Richard Marshall interception return for a TD.

Nacho: By now, our weekly simile of what negative thing David Carr is to our team should have a name, so I'm gonna name it:

The David Carr Negative Simile of the Week

This week's simile: Herpes.

Not since the not-so-rare Derekus Jeterius strain has one athlete infected so many talented people. David Carr ruined Dom Capers's head coaching career, a meat-sweaty intense fan base, and, for half a season and six million dollars, the Carolina Panthers. Luckily, there's VINtrex, it's just like Valtrex, and helps keep David Carr in remission. So there you have it, David Carr is the herpes of the Carolina Panthers.

I'd like to take a moment to highlight a career day for one special Panther. Although I'm dubious as to her abilities to headline a wide-realease film, I'd like to extend a hearty congrats to Rosario Dawson on her stellar performance yesterday.

One fumble recovery and a touchdown
for 5 yards. Not bad.

It's fun to hear the Panthers back in playoff talk, for about a week. We've got the other expansion team up next week. Y'know those guys who didn't even punt against the defending Super Bowl champs. Ugh.


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Week 3: One Day Someone Will Write A Song About You

The title of this post comes from the action megahit "Speed" wherein Sandra Bullock makes it known that she thinks highly of the fateful bus driver. That sentiment rings true for the Game Changer, Steve Smith, this week.

There's a whole lotta buzz surrounding the whole DeAngelo Hall scuffle, and I for one would like to take a moment to spotlight a man who, despite having a terrible statistical game, still was the reason we won.

Our buddy Dave has the best wrap up so I won't try to improve upon it. In fact, I'll let Brethren take it away:



Brethren: My bulleted thoughts from the Upper West side bar we watched the games at:

- I was not happy with that team until we got to the 4th quarter. It's still the fucking Falcons.

- I hate those Dane Cook "Actober" MLB playoff commercials. Dane Cook is no Don Cheadle, even if they have the same initials.

- David Carr's daintly white gloves: ugh. David Carr's slicked back hair that ultimately kinda looks like a mullet: ugh. David Carr, 3-4 in backup relief: Ok. Not completely sold still.

- I have always hated DeAngelo Hall. Nacho said it best when he texted me, "Deangelo can eat a dick." I'm sorry but I just don't like Virginia Tech sports. I can't. I won't.

- I can't wait til it gets late enough in the season and start wearing the black jerseys. I do like those so much more.

- Steve Smith is tenacious. I've said it before; I'll continue saying it. I'm kinda in love with him. Although, no, I haven't seen The Notebook yet even though he endorses it.

Sorry if this was not the most in-depth/awe-inspiring recap. The Panthers-Falcons game was the Official "Hunched over in a corner, on a smaller TV than every other game" Game of the Week. What up, I-85 rivalry no one in New York cares about. Rock on.
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In Sounds from Way Out: I Heart You

Occasionally we'll weigh in on issues involving people and places we have no real connection to, other than we wanna talk about them.

Today's topic: I Heart You.

Brethren: If you're at all like me, then one of the first things you try to do everyday is get to the office early enough to read the Charlotte Observer Sports section.

I'm a creature of habit, and I've been reading that thing since I was knee high to a duck. Just because I haven't lived in Charlotte in a litte over four years hasn't stopped me since I discovered these here Interwebs.

So each morning, I try to find 5-10 minutes to read what good old Tom Sorensen, Scott Fowler, Stan Olson, Pat Yasinkas, et al, have to say about the Panthers, the Bobcats, the ACC, and Charlotte High School Sports (who dat #3 in the Sweet Sixteen).

Well today, I didn't get the chance to check out the Observer until after I finished work, round 7 PM EST. And boy did I find a gem in today's paper. Read on through to find out:



Brethren (cont'd): Wait for it.

Wait for it.

Boom: Panthers WR Steve Smith likes the Notebook!


Great googily moogily. The diminuitive man who absolutley destroys the defensive backfields of the NFL can also admit to the world he's a fan of this.

I -- for one -- applaud the man. I am not nearly as manly and tough and tenacious as Steve Smith, but even I have a tough time admitting that I watched "The Holiday" twice in the same weekend with my Momma back in May. I have no trouble telling a few friends here and there in private that I'm a fan of chick flicks, when done right.

But even as a self-proclaimed chick flick fan, I've had a hard time getting myself to watch a movie that nearly every girl I've ever known put on her F'Book profile as one of her favorite movies. I was in a relationship once where the gf wanted me to watch two movies and I refused the entire time we dated: "Mulan" and "The Notebook."

Now? Well, shit, if Steve Smith can like "The Notebook," then maybe I can too.

But fuck that "Mulan" shit.

FYI: Happy Talk Like A Pirate Day! YARRRRR!

Nacho:Do you enjoy vaginoplasty? Then you'll love "The Notebook," apparently. I wouldn't know cuz I never seen it, but from extensive research I've learn'd that people cry. Crying blows. I also worked on the Lindsay Lohan vehicle, "Just My Luck," and tears were shed, but not due to sadness or revenge. (Brethren: She hit the slopes.)


In my humle opinion I, too, miss the Observer's Sports Section, and Brethren's just reminded me how good they are. Onward, to the Falcons!
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Week 2: The Greatest Game Never Played

Nacho: "What happened I blacked out."

Far be it from the SportsBrethren to accuse the CBS graphics guys of having bet their engagement ring fund on the Panthers offense today...but that's exactly what happened.*

Whew. Thank God. For a second there I thought we got torched by the Houston fucking Texans. Luckily, it was all just a hallucinogenic side effect of a wings and beer. I knew, despite what my bleary eyes showed me, that the Carolina Panthers couldn't have shit the bed that badly. Luckily, CBS snapped me out of my stupor and showed me what really happened:

I shot up from the couch. That's my boys. Freshly made biscuits for all, Steve & the Cajun connected four times!!! Turns out we might not have even scored four times at all. Either way, I've been working redonkulously hard all week and despite my Cats demise, I can always fall back on the fact that the season is young. The Texans may be for real, and if our only loss comes to the eventual AFC Division champ, so be it.


Thanks, CBS, for the greatest game never played.

Brethren: Houston puts up 34 unanswered points before finally finishing off our Cats 34-21. Without Steve Smith, we would have lost 34-0. Ewww. So what the fudd happened?

We have our theories.



Brethren (cont'd): I suppose having a threesome just won't happen for me. Oh, not that kind. I mean, a weekend where Virginia, Florida, and the Panthers all win.

See, yesterday was a fantastic football day for me. I met up with some friends at a bar to watch the second half of Virginia's win over Carolina. Unbeknownst to me, the bar we were watching the game at is also a Gators bar. So after UVA sealed the win, I looked around to find the bar packed with Gator fans and the bartender ripping off his Emmitt Smith jersey to reveal a shirt that just said, "Gators, bitches!" with a picture of Paris Hilton. I had no idea what that meant but I soon realized I might have died and gone to Heaven.

The bartender continued to get more drunk as the Gators rolled up on the dastardly Vols. The Florida fight song, Gator cheers, and free drinks were all flowing nonstop through the bar. My parents were at the game; I had several friends texting me from the game. I think I made a Tennesse fan cry as I was texting/talking shit to her. All was grand. Free Jaegar shots and several free pitchers later (thanks, drunk bartender!) with a 59-20 win in hand, I went home to pass out and miss out on a potentially fantastic night on the town (three birthday parties, an open bar, Sammy in town -- slept right thru 'em all). So Saturday rocked.

Fast forward to today; woke up early to devour all the media coverage of the Panthers and the Gators. Got on the crosstown bus to go meet my buddy on the West side to watch the game. All to watch that shitshow. My bulleted thoughts:

- The early NFL season is quite befuddling. I don't know if I should start a warm bath, drink a bottle of Red Wine and slowly slip away or just shrug and say, "Well shit, maybe Houston's good." I think I'm going with the latter.

- But wait? Houston's good? Fuck me sideways. I went to UVA so I know the (relative) power of the Schaub, but still.

- True story: Schaub bought me a Jaegarbomb when I was at UVA and he was a first-year Falcon. He later got arrested that night for starting a fight. That's the shit that goes down when you start drankin' with this guy.

- I hope you're happy, Woody. My boy Woodrow called me as I was going to the bar, and he simply told me, "I hope you win, but I have both Steve Smith and Andre Johnson on my fantasy teams, so as long as they play well, I'm good." Five touchdowns, 273 yards between them later and I hope you're good. Bastard.

- Consecutive texts I sent to Nacho and his Left Coast crew as the game was slipping away in the third quarter:
- "Fuck me in the ear" (after the special teams fumble)
- "Well shit I don't even know who to blame"
- "34 unanswered points??"
- "Ew. Is Houston good?"

- Didn't we draft Dwayne Jarrett so we wouldn't have to play Keary Colbert anymore? How many years do I have to get sucked into the "Colbert's good this year!" stories before I finally realize? 3? 4? 10? Is there an end in sight?

- Can't we just clone Steve Smith?

- Well, at least we play Hotlanta next week.

- His name is Tim Tebow. All your boobz are belong to Tim Tebow.

Nacho: Here's some wider pics of CBS's wishful thinking:




































Welcome Deadspinners and FanHausers. Feel free to browse (BOOBS!!!!!)



* = Don't worry man, she'll come around
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