Des Hasler is Good. So was pre-Waterloo Napoleon.

Here is an astute and insightful observation: The Raiders must beat the Bulldogs tonight. The Raiders must succeed. I refer here to Gore Vidal’s version of success: It’s not enough to succeed. Others must fail.

Des is good. This is a fundamental truth. Napoleon was good too. Remember what happened to him? Despite his knowledge of the harsh Russian winter, Napoleon attacked during the cold months and his troops were decimated. Just something for Des to bear in mind.  

Other key points for us the viewers to bear in mind: 

-One of the Bulldogs looks like a Sasquatch. Which I understand are offensively hairy, ogre-like creatures. His name eludes me but whoever it is he has totally disproved the evolution theory.

-One of the Bulldogs looks like this guy who came to look at the Tarago I was selling and took a noisy dump in my toilet.

- One of the Bulldogs is Josh Reynolds: excitement machine. He has a motley mongrel vibe and a sociopathic glint to the eye. I like how he is making a name as the game’s new, up-and-coming super-grub under the aggressive tutelage of Michael Ennis. I like it how he is always at pains to point out that he’s “not the most naturally gifted player” and that he has had to work very hard, none of this teenage prodigy* shit for him. If you listened to him without seeing him play you would naturally conclude that he is some kind of genetically feeble loser with a club-foot and a harelip. And, not, you know, extravagantly awesome.  See also: Matty Johns dishing out the high praise and calling him “a real hound-dog”.  

*(A teenage Scrabble prodigy was last week ejected from the US Scrabble Championship after he was caught stealing the two blank tiles before a game. Also, 41% of Americans think that preparing for doomsday is more important than saving for retirement. These are two totally unrelated points from which I encourage you to configure your own baseless conclusions. You sick fucks!!)

So. The Raiders must win.

If they don’t I won’t be mad at them though.

I say I’m on my last nerve with them all the time but never really am. I have an endless supply of fresh nerves specially bred to be shredded.