11. Frank Gore sucks.
He scored a 6 on the Wonderlic test…out of a possible 50. His showing ranks as one of the worst all-time scores in Wonderlic history.
Rather than calling out coverages, perhaps Seahawks linebackers should pepper San Francisco’s running back with stupid questions before the snap. “Hey Frank! Spell all forms of the word ‘there.’ All forms, Frank! Not just one. And then use each form in a sentence so we know you’re not bullshitting us.”
10. Their mascot sucks.
Did you know that the Niners’ mascot is a cartoonish cowboy named Sourdough Sam? Probably not, since Sourdough Sam is the stupidest name ever. I imagine a cowboy named Sourdough Sam would be the first one to die of dysentery on the Oregon Trail. Or worse, he’d drown in the very first river you forded.
“All your oxen survived and all your supplies are intact. But Sourdough Sam is dead. R.I.P Sourdough Sam.”
9. Their dance team sucks.
The 49ers have dubbed their cheer squad the “Gold Rush.” Really? The Gold Rush? The California Gold Rush ended in 1855. The majority of people who participated in the Gold Rush were men. Nothing about the term “Gold Rush” indicates attractive women dancing and holding pom-poms. Your marketing team is an epic fail.
8. Their stadium sucks.
Candlestick Park. Most famous for withstanding earthquakes and being synonymous with a city that no one would give a shit about if it weren’t for Full House.
This butt-ugly venue was built in 1960, the same year that the laser was invented and John F. Kennedy was elected president. It’s fifty-three goddamn years old. The building qualifies for AARP and early-bird specials at shitty chain restaurants. It also holds the dubious distinction of being one of the worst places to play a football game because of the strong winds that swirl into the stadium, creating adverse conditions for, you know, sports.
On top of all that, this decaying rathole housed The Beatles’ final concert in 1966. And at the time, The Beatles had no idea it would be their final concert. Way to go, Candlestick. You’re single-handedly responsible for destroying The Beatles.
7. The best player in the history of their franchise sucks.
Seriously, Joe Montana, what the hell? You couldn’t spawn a better quarterback? Your kid came to the University of Washington for two years and barely cracked the two-deep. Now he’s playing at Tulane, the pride of Conference USA. All you are to us is the father of a kid who wasn’t good enough. That, and the spokesperson for two of the lowliest apparel brands in American history, Mervyn’s and Skechers.
6. The best player currently on their roster sucks.
There’s probably some debate about this, since no current 49er is really all that great. But for the sake of the hype machine, we’ll go ahead and say that Colin Kaepernick is the best player on San Francisco’s roster right now. And my god, is he just a disaster.
First of all, he looks like a Mii. For those of you who don’t know what a Mii is, go to the nearest GameStop, find a Nintendo Wii console, and create a male avatar. Holy crap, right away you realize that your creation bears a striking resemblance to the 49ers quarterback. Kaepernick is the product of an algorithm.
Second, there’s the whole bicep kissing thing. Look, unless you have the arms of a professional weightlifter, you simply cannot take a peck at any part of your body residing between the shoulder and the fingertips. Can’t do it. And if you do, you’re gonna look like a self-absorbed douchebag. This is why people the world around have issues with Kaepernick. Whether you loathe the San Francisco 49ers or not, it’s easy to despise someone who makes out with their scrawny noodle arms.
Third, the tattoos. What’s up with the tattoos, bro? You had a privileged upbringing in the suburbs of Wisconsin. Wisconsin. You’re not from the streets, you’re not from the hood, you aren’t part of some gang we should all fear. You’re just a dude who had disposable income as a child and apparently spent it all on ill-advised, meaningless ink. I get it: You’re biracial and you were adopted. In your own mind, that probably means you had it “rough.” Whatever.
So what’s your story? It was your time in Nevada, wasn’t it? That Reno. With all those geriatrics running around, it’s easy to get involved with a bad crowd.
5. Their uniforms suck.
Their two primary colors are also the colors of piss and blood. They should be sponsored by Tampax and Depends.
4. Their Super Bowl victories suck.
Two of the wins came against Cincinnati. Those shouldn’t even count.
3. Their players’ names suck.
NaVorro Bowman. According to a Google search, the name “NaVorro” has no meaning. Way to go, mom. Your kid is meaningless.
Anquan Boldin. The name “Anquan” means “companion.” You’re not a leader. You’re not a powerful individual. You’re an effing companion. Might as well be Tonto.
Perrish Cox. A misspelling of the word meaning “to die.” That’s, uh…cool.
Colt McCoy. Named after both a baby horse and the annoying middle child in the 3 Ninjas movies.
Kassim Osgood. His name means “dispenser of food and goods.” That’s just awful. He’s like a Safeway, or a Union Gospel Mission, or a…Pez.
2. Their fans suck.
I mean, they’re not that bad for uneducated inbreds.
1. Their coach sucks.
In general, society’s biggest gripes with Jim Harbaugh are the following:
-He whines too much.
-His fashion sense blows.
-He always has that goddamn red Sharpie hanging around his neck.
-He over-dramatizes every single little thing on the sideline.
-He makes ugly faces.
I understand all that and I certainly agree with the sentiments. But my biggest issue with Harbaugh is none of these things. No, I’m disgusted by the 49ers’ head coach for a different reason. What is that reason, you ask? Simple: He took an acting gig on Saved By the Bell: The New Class.
By now, this isn’t news. Everyone should know that Harbaugh was on the shitty red-headed stepchild spinoff of the Saved By the Bell series. But in case you weren’t aware, here’s a video of the Emmy-worthy performance:
That was horrendous. And there are so many things wrong with this.
First, everyone knows that The New Class was a disgraceful embarrassment to Saved By the Bell’s good name. It just was. As someone who avidly paid witness to all forms and spinoffs of Saved By the Bell, The New Class was little more than a train wreck. Trust me on this.
Second, Harbaugh played Screech’s cousin and Screech was the worst character in the history of the entire SBTB franchise. We’re talking about a guy who had a knack for screwing everything up all the time. Not only that, but the man who played this bumbling idiot went on to star in a homemade porno that was highlighted by a Dirty Sanchez, which is gross.
Third, what self-respecting athlete accepts a gig on The New Class, anyway? You either have to have the worst agent in the world — some Bob Sugar-esque ne’er-do-well concerned about nothing more than the almighty dollar — or possess no dignity whatsoever as a human being. With Harbaugh, I’d guess it’s the latter.
All things considered, Jim Harbaugh epitomizes the absolute suckiness of the entire organization he represents. So…much…suck.
Filed under: Seahawks, Top 11
Sports-hate is an amazing thing. It absolves us of a lot. As sports fans, we can say a whole lot a nasty stuff to each other. Terrible things. But it’s okay, because it’s just sports, and we don’t really mean it. We can kind of say whatever we want, and we can just pass it off as sports-hate. We don’t really mean it when we say we hate each other. Right? I hope so. No one should really mean those mean things.
But man, we love to sports-hate each other. It feeds rivalries, and makes the games more fun. It goes something like this:
Your team sucks! Our team is amazing! You guys are stupid! We have brilliant football minds! Your women are disgusting! Ours are super sexy! Wait, let’s compare pictures.
Gaw, we hate you guys!!
And on and on. Fun, right? I know. Let’s proceed. Without further ado,
Hey, 49ers fans, you guys are IDIOTS!
I learned late this week there are still some of you, broadcasters included, who think the noise at Century Link Field is somehow fabricated. That Seahawks fans couldn’t possibly be that loud. We “pump in noise.” I guess noise can be “pumped.”
We’ve heard this racket a million times before. It’s annoying, but kind of awesome. And yet it persists. It tends to come up as an excuse for opponents before, during, and after games. It’s like the ultimate sign of disrespect and the ultimate sign of respect at the same time. So, thanks, I guess. Idiots.
But I’m going to go ahead and be up front about this, for you, morons. Might as well lay it all out there so we are clear. Let’s see if you can comprehend some of this, because we know you’re too dumb to pick up on all of it. Maybe it’s a bit too sophisticated. That’s okay.
First of all, our stadium was built with acoustics in mind. So, yeah, our noise is amplified. Naturally. By way of architecture. Because Paul Allen is smarter than you. Make sense? Oh sorry. How about, “Big building. Make loud!”
Let’s move on to the game day experience. Seahawks fans are just plain loud. It rains here, a lot. We don’t get out much. This is just our thing. We crawl out of our little mossy hobbit dens every Sunday, and unleash our pent-up angst on the world.
While the opposing offense huddles, we are working ourselves into a vocal lather, our chorus of screeching and howling crescendos. When the offense breaks their huddle, it is at our mercy, our voices reaching a deafening, fearsome fury as the quarterback lines up under center.
This is our process. No speakers. No “pumping.” Just us, raining down doom on your team.
It’s awesome. You should try it sometime.
Oh, and are you familiar with what happened here?
Yeah, that was Marshawn Lynch rumbling 67 yards in one of the most spectacular plays in recent NFL history. A legendary celebration ensued, which happened to register on the Richter scale, deep in the catacombs of Seattle.
You should’a been there.
Was it from invisible pumping speakers, hovering above the field? Probably not. That was the reverberations of 67,000 howling ‘Hawk fans jumping up and down on concrete, stomping out the soul of our opponent.
That’s evidently what we do during big games at the Clink. We stomp out souls and cause seismic activity. We are human geological weapons.
And that was against the New Orleans Saints. We don’t even sports-hate them. They are actually kind of charming, to be honest. It’s Drew Brees, after all. Kinda cuddly.
But you guys? My goodness, we sports-hate you like the dickens. So much. Your coach is a no-fun, pissed-off, constipated man who looks and smells like the rat he is.
You know what? We sports-hate you so much I might be willing to push it a step further. We don’t not real-life hate you. Really, it could go either way. So think earnestly about that while the Seahawks are dismantling your precious Niners today, and we’re jumping and shouting about how horrible your team is, and how fun it is to watch them whine and squirm about how unfair it is that it’s so LOUD. “Mommy, I can’t hear anything!!” Idiots.
Enjoy tonight, you dirty, know-nothing, football-sucking jerks.
Filed under: Seahawks