So every week I'll try and come up with some short observations of how players performed, through the use of superlatives, unjustifiable hyperbole and all manner of grammatically questionable phrasing.
Philbin on Jennings:
"He can't get hurt, so I wasn't worried at all." That's right. It's official. He's finally returned, and He makes a pretty darn good WR, too.
Brian Brohm's performance:
The improvement in Brohm's game is the same type of improvement one finds in placing an scented candle next to a gigantic bowl of turds. Even if it has a sickly sweet aroma of processed bratwursts complemented by a springtime lavender essence, you can't help but notice a gigantic bowl of turds everytime you look.
Coincidentally, I think Zero would have preferred to be stuck in this room than the airport lounge in PA.
Aaron Rodgers' performance:
Hyperinflation is setting in because Mr. Rodgers' neighbourhood is growing at a phenomenal rate. If I were to measure his performance by gesticulating my arms, the closest action that explains how well Rodgers played is to constantly punch myself in the face to wake up from such a wonderful dream.
Tyrell Sutton:
I thought Sutton is a lock to make this roster. Not the type of dingy little gold locks you use on airline baggage, but at least one of those bicycle locks that for one reason or another, come wrapped in this plastic tubing that is begging you to try and cut it with a handsaw, knowing full well that you'd struggle to make it through the thick metal chains, sitting there all lock-like laughing its intimidating lock-laugh at you. But then Philbin and Slocum came in with a pair of hedge trimmers with their apathetic response to Sutton's performance and completely destroyed it. So now that Sutton is no longer a lock, I suppose he can go back to being a running back and make the team that way.
Charles Woodson:
He played lights out today. Just imagine how well he'd do with the lights on! He was magnificent in the same way that COWtalian ad wasn't.
Kevin Greene, LB coach:
It's a shame that his momentary loss of muscular control occurred at the same time Kampman was returning a fumble because many people mistakenly thought of it as a moment of joyous celebration. No grown man would actually submit himself to such dubious bodily movements under his own power. This embarrassing jumping-jacks-like affliction could not have come at a worse time.
Feel free to post any observations.