Fins Nation: A Miami Dolphins Blog With Dick Jokes

Checkdown.exe

 

The biggest news coming out of yesterday's 15-10 win over Buffalo is Chad Henne's inconsistent Fiedleresque performance. When asked about his play after the game, Henne answered with a very robot-like: "I did what we needed to win."

Indeed.

Henne didn't throw any interceptions or lose any fumbles. So, that's good.

But holy kangaroo shit I've never seen a quarterback enter a season with so much doubt and irrational anger coming from the fanbase as this guy. The Robot had himself a solid first-season last year, throwing 12 TDs, finishing with a very respectable 60.8% passer rating, and beating the Jets twice while leading the Dolphins to a come-from-behind win over the Pats. Yet people are still losing their shit over they guy and saying Chad Pennington and his peanut brittle shoulder should be our starter. 

Yes, we could've seen more from Henne and the passing game yesterday. Even against what is a pretty stout Bills secondary, we expected The Robot to go into Ballistic Mode and fuck some shit up with his laser-rocket arm and cold metallic disposition. But he didn't. After starting out well, he fell back into his usual weaknesses. Holding onto the ball too long, locking in on targets and broadcasting his passes. And now he's suddenly developed a "check-down" habit even when there are clearly wide open players deeper down field. This robot needs more scanning program! 

But let's understand one thing. Chad Henne has the tools. He has the arm, the size, the pedigree, and even the smarts. Sure it would be nice to transplant Pennington's brain into Henne's body. But then we'd have Dan Marino. And while that would be all kinds of fucking awesomey awesome, it also kind of makes the point. Chad Henne is not Dan Marino. No one is Dan Marino. Dan Marino came off the bench and immediately blew shit up. That's not ever going to happen here again ever. The sooner we come to grips with that, the better.

In the meantime, we need to understand that Henne will have his day. Keep in mind that this is his second season as a starter. The guy has a lot of room for improvements, as with any second-year QB. 

The Robot is the real deal. Let's just everybody be patient.

NOW STOP HOLDING ON TO THE BALL AND THROW IT ALREADY, YOU PIECE OF SHIT ROBOT!!

Victory Monday!

Sorry for the late start today, Nation.

As it turns out, I need to eat and pay rent. Pfft... I know! So work has had me pinned down all day. But rest assured we'll be round to discuss yesterday's epic balls performance by the defense and fart noises performance by the offense shortly.

I can tell you I'm not happy with it. But DRK called me after the game and pointed out the positives. This is why he's my bestest friend evah!!1!1!

Be back shortly. Until then, come by and read my game re-cap over at Miami New Times. Also, feel free to enjoy this picture of three girls and their three hot asses that randomly popped up in Google Search while I searched for totally non-hot ass pictures for work.

I think I'll just chalk up that little miracle to Victory Monday. Thank you,Victory Monday!

Dolphins-Bills Open Thread

Here we go. Season opener. Time to shake off the shitty shitty shit sandwich made of old lady shit that was the off-season. 

FUCK. OR. WALK.

Let's Go Fins!

Keys to the Game: Dolphins @ Bills

Man, feels good to be actually writing a 'Keys' post again.  Do you know how hard it is to find anything even remotely sexy about the Buffalo Bills?  I almost put a fuckin' chicken wing up there until I spelunked a bit further into the interwebs.  Let's get to it:

• Feed The Beast early.  We've been rather coy about utilizing our new weapon.  FUCK.  THAT.  SHIT.  Feed him early and often to open up the ground game.  Put him in the slot early and get him going.  This can only help The Robot. 
• By feeding The Beast early we can put them on their heels a bit and work the weak Bills defense via the ground game.  A steady diet of Ricky and Ronnie.  There doesn't need to be anything sexy or cute about this game.  We should have the personnel and schemes in place to bash these fuckers in the mouth. 
• Robot, set lasers to DESTROY.  (Robot eyes flare up red)
• Also, it's time for Robot to download and assimilate the new OS that prohibits late game turnovers.
• Set the edge, contain Spiller and force Trent Edwards to beat you.  Big games for IAF and Koa Misi in run support.
• Cameron Wake needs to be in Beast mode all game and applying pressure.  Hopefully we'll finally get to see the blitz packages and exotic stuff with YB that the local writers have been raving about.
• MOST IMPORTANTLY TRIPLE ASTERISK BOLD UNDERLINE EXPLOSIONS FIREWORKS:  FORGET THE WEIRD SHIT OF THE PAST 2-3 WEEKS.  FORGET THE FUCKIN' PRESEASON.  FORGET THE STRANGE PERSONNEL MOVES.  FORGET THE SHIT CEREAL FRONT OFFICE.  FOCUS ON THIS FUCKING GAME AND GET THE SEASON STARTED WITH A BANG.

We shouldn't have to be gimmicky and obtuse with this fucking team;  we should be able to punch these fuckers in the mouth over and over again.  The good teams do that.  They go out and whip the shit out of you HARD.  You think the Saints would go easy on these guys and get all cute?  FUCK THAT.  They'd spread 'em 5 wide and score 50 points on them.  DO THAT.

Game Prediction:  Dolphins 31 - Bills 10

FinsNation 2010 season OFFICIAL SUPER DUPER COLOSSAL ARBITRARY BULLSHIT SEASON RECORD PREDICTION:

The Dude - 9 wins, 7 losses

DRK - 8 wins, 8 losses

Prove us wrong, fuckos.

Go Dolphins.

 

Presenting: The 2010 J.R. Tolver Award

Sound of Trumpets Blaring...A Medieval Procession featuring Much Gaiety throughout The Land...Streamers, Celebration...Did I mention Gaiety?...Really Gay....Everyone is joyous for the Proclamation is Upon Us.

The Constable, Lieutenant Dick Joke, looked down upon his scroll, adopted a pompous Brit accent and thus spake:

(Ahem)

It is with great pleasure and aplomb that we here at FinsNation bestow upon one Marlon Moore of Fresno State by way of Sacramento, California the highly-coveted, much-desired, greatly-revered honor of the 2010 J.R. Tolver Memorial Award for Wide Receivers That Will Get You All Excited About Them During OTAs and Training Camp Only To Do Absolutely Nothing In The Actual Regular Season.

(crowd erupts in cheering)

While true that past winners of this prestigious honor were certainly more productive than Sir Moore, we here at FinsNation took into account Sir Moore's excellent record of underachievement, ruined potential and overall 'letting people down' over the course of his athletic career in high school, college and now the pros to declare him our winner over curious - though valiant - challengers such as near two-time winner Sir Patrick Turner (now deceased), Sir Roberto Wallace and, rather surprisingly, the very gifted Sir Brandon Marshall.  Sir Marshall's flirtation with derision and disappointment due to his curious case of that modern Black Plague called 'the dropsies' nearly vaulted him over Sir Moore's fastidiousness.  But, no sir, that will not be the case today.

(crowd erupts in cheering)

In closing, we present thee, Sir Marlon Moore, with this most vaunted award for your sporadic play (on offense AND defense) coming out of high school, your expected potential in college, your top receiver status all the way back there in the fucking 2007 season, your inability to stay healthy in the subsequent season, your overall underachievement in college, your draft undesirability, your impressive OTA progress, the various 'feeling' that South Florida area writers had for you throughout training camp, your breakthrough performances versus the Jaguars, the Cowboys 4th stringers and senior league squad, your intriguing 1 catch for -1 yard in the preseason game vs. Atlanta and then your subsequent 'breakout' performance against said Cowboys where you had a whopping 4 catches for 31 yards and a redzone touchdown on a slant.  To use the parlance of our times:  that is some impressive shit...man.

Congratulations, Sir Marlon!!!

Cheering, Celebrations, Women Raped, Villages Pillaged, Ecosystems Tarnished Forever, Entire Newly-formed Civilizations Crumbling upon the Announcement, various Dolphins players cut...

Jake Grove: COCKPUNCHED!

 

The Dolphins have terminated the contract of center Jake Grove. This means the starting center job now belongs to Joe Berger. You might recall that Grove signed a $29.5 million contract last year. Also, you might recall that I hated the signing back then. 

My hatred of the signing had less to do with me being some kind of genius football talent evaluator, and more do with the fact that Jake Grove blows. He was 30 at the time of signing, played for the shitty Raiders and was injury prone. Meanwhile other younger, less injury prone players were available for pretty much the same amount of money.

I wonder, based on that, if Stephen Ross would give me a crack at running the team. All I need to do now is go ask some random dude on the street if his mother is a whore and my resume' will be complete!

Miami Herald is Taking This Parcells Thing a LITTLE Too Far

This is - no joke - the current homepage of your Miami Herald right fucking now.  Look, I get that Cockpuncher was all Living Colour 'Cult of Personality' and shit but do we really have to compare him to one of the biggest assholes of the post-modern world???   Fidel killed children, ravaged a nation and persecuted hundreds of thousands, fer crissakes!!!  The Dolphins are just a football team!!!

Ok, maybe if it was a storyline about Fidel with a Carl Peterson pic I'd totally 'get it'.

UPDATE:  Haha...they just fixed it.  I still got you, fuckers!

Existential Sparano Contemplates The Meaning of it All

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Cockpuncher, k? Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky, k.

In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand, k? Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.  These types of things.

At the end of the day, this bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Cockpuncher,

“You promised me Bill, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life (Gibril Wilson, Chad Pennington injury, the '08 blowout in Arizona, the two losses to the Ravens, and TED GINN FUCKING JR.) there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me - at the end of the day and these types of things?”

Cockpuncher replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child....

.....is when I carried you.”
 

We are SO fucked.

The Cockpuncher just cockpunched himself

 

Bill Parcells has just stepped down as president of football operations for your Miami Dolphins and will hand the reigns to a dude who's biggest claim to fame as a personnel guy was when he asked a player if his mom was a whore. Parcells is apparently going to take on a "consultant" role. 

This coming five days before the season starts, and just two days after all the massive cuts and roster changes the Fins just went through. The only way this decision could be any more transparent would be if Parcells' statement read: "HOLY ASSBALLS THIS TEAM IS SO ROYALLY FUCKED!!!! GAAHHHHH!!!!!!" 

Discuss.

SOUND THE TRUMPETS: LET THE C*CKPUNCHING COMMENCE!!!

(Sniffs the air around him)

You smell that?  I love the smell of a good COCKPUNCH in the mornin'.  Smells like.....poorly determined draft choices.  Already on the chopping block:

• Patrick Turner (too bad he almost had the JR Tolver Award named after him if he'd stuck it out)
• Donald Thomas (WTF?)
• Andrew Gardner
• Lionel Dotson
• Pat White
• JD Folsom
• Ryan Baker
• Kevin Hobbs
• Montavious Stanley
• David Martin

More blood will surely be spillt today.  Then we'll go about the business of picking up every single former Cowboys player to pad our roster.

Pat White?  Hey, buddy...can you get your playbook and meet me in the Turk's office??  Thanks, man.

We'll update throughout the day...

/ sharpens knife while whistling casually