Today's forecast? Dark and cloudy and a chance of drive-by.

Why All These $%^&*ing Injuries are Good for the Cowboys

Whether or not you think the Cowboys victory yesterday over the mighty Alex Smith might be pyrrhic (I say no), there are definite casualties on the Blue and Silver side of the ball.  Besides the litany of injuries the Cowboys sustained in their preseason and game one, it now looks like the Alien Austin might be out through the bye week and at best, it looks like Felix Jones may play in the home opener, albeit seeing diminished carries while trying to regain full strength.  Tony Romo is playing with a (delicious) broken rib.  That’s nothing to say of the multitude of injuries on the offensive line and in the secondary, which seem to be changing on an hourly basis.  I’m tempting fate as I say it, but it would be hard to get worse as far as injuries go.

Next time try the pulled shoulder; I hear it's tender.

Here comes the shaky logic: admist the chaos and pain, I see a team, who by the trial of fire brought upon its youngest and most inexperienced players, will emerge stronger and more driven.  No one thought at the beginning of the season that the Boys would be able to make it to the playoffs this year, even less so now.  But by taking the blows up front, they might find themselves primed for a competitive run sooner than otherwise expected.

Let’s look at it from several angles:

I was the worst and I choose to draft now

With the First Pick in the 2011 CABC Draft, The Syndrome select SAM ACHO, LB, St. Mark's School of Texas.

If We Don't Have Football The Terrorists Win

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears. A lot has happened in the time since we last spoke many fortnights ago. In the weeks since Crocs Out Cocks Out won the CABC Football Championship, Starbucks changed its omnipresent logo, Charlie Sheen went completely sane, Nic Cage drove angry, and Black History Month passed us by like the unexplained Smoke Monster from LOST. I come to you all now, nearing the Ides of March, in hopes that I can assassinate all memories of the 2010 Syndrome’s terrible performance. The good people of CABC Nation deserve better.

How do I propose that we move forward and improve the almighty League? Diversification.

Every day the NFL Owners and Players Association meet and don’t come to some sort of agreement, a part of me grows increasingly worried. I may not have the Ivy League education or financial expertise that can be claimed by our newly crowned champion or other league members, but I do understand how important it is to cover your ass when there’s a risky situation on the horizon. While I hope for the best in these ongoing labor talks, I know that football is at the earliest still 6 months away.

To fill our fantasy-less summers, I motion that we throw out the first pitch for the 2011 CABC Fantasy Baseball Season.

In a mere matter of days, The Texas Rangers will begin their defense of the American League Pennant. And as we cheer them on, I invite you all to join me in this exciting new venture. Our shared ignorance when it comes to the game of “baseball” will allow for level competition until Mr. ARB builds some super spreadsheets to destroy us all. And if CABC Summer League goes as planned, the blog will be brought back from hiatus, providing hours of cute and/or hysterical enjoyment.

I ask that you all please confirm your participation so draft preparations can be made. “I had rather have such men my friends than enemies.”

Mistah Kurtz -- he dead.


    
        
            A penny for the Old Guy
        
    

            
                I
            

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

            
                II
            

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

            
                III
            

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

            
                IV
            

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

            
                V
            

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

                    For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow


                    Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

                    For Thine is the Kingdom


For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

GO RANGERS!

For Your CaM-ing Pleasure

Emo Family Matters


Johnny Cash - Hurt


Elliot Smith - Needle in the Hay