Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of the Donks.

[Hammock Parties]

Pretty amusing article.

http://www.denverpost.com/paige/ci_16463406

Paige: A Study in Orange & Blue


By Woody Paige
The Denver Post


LONDON —

"Come, Woodrow, come! The game is afoot," cried Sherlock Holmes.

"Actually, the Broncos-49ers game is football," said I.

Directly across from tranquil Regents Park, and adjacent to the Sherlock Holmes Museum, is the unremarkable Victorian four-story townhouse at 221B Baker Street.

The kindly Mrs. Hudson permitted me entrance: "Madam, I'm here to visit Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective."

"This way," she said, directing me up 17 steps to the first-floor flat, into a cluttered study unaltered from the late 19th century and toward a dignified man smoking a calabash pipe.

"Mr. Holmes, I presume."

"Beyond the obvious facts that you have come from the western part of America, been in London for only a few hours, ate fish and chips for lunch, are not a man of means and have done considerable work as a journalist lately, I can deduce nothing else of value."

"Uncanny," I said.

"Pshaw," he replied. "You are wearing cheap, scuffed, muddy cowboy boots, and there is a stifling smell about them and you; you have an arrival ticket dated yesterday in your back pocket, and your eyes are wickedly red; your coat is stained with tartar sauce, and your clothes are wrinkled and suggest you dressed in a dark closet, and your fingers are stained by ink.

"What brought you to my brass door knocker, sir?" Holmes said as he fiddled with a violin and stood by the glowing fireplace on a chilly Thursday.

"An enigma, Mr. Holmes. The Denver Broncos have come to London a broken, shattered 2-5 team in the wake of a 59-14 mortification at the hands of the Oakland Raiders. A man from Devonshire said to me at dinner last evening, 'What a wretched team you commentate on. What is wrong?' Coach Josh McDaniels, the players and the bloggers are unable to solve this mystery. Only you can, Mr. Holmes."

"It is my business to know what common people don't understand. Problems which have baffled all those who have sought a solution by the aid of their senses demand intelligent analysis."

"So you'll take the case?"

"This reminds me of the conundrum my dear friend Dr. Watson penned in 'The Red-Headed League,' yet this is the National Football League. It is quite a three-pipe case."

As noted in the tidy Holmes Museum, he had — with logic, observation, reasoning and forensic investigation — the famous (fictional, according to some disbelievers) detective has brought to correct conclusion more than 60 cases.

"Is there any point to which you want to draw my attention," he said.

"The running game is nonexistent. The blocking is dreadful. The unprotected quarterback has listed badly in the past two games; the injuries are mounting by the day, and the coach seems at a loss as how to stop the ship from sinking before the Broncos confront the equally awful 49ers. And the defense . . ."

"Oh, yes," Holmes interrupted. "There is the curious incident of the defense."

"But, Holmes, the Broncos are not playing defense."

"That," he said, "is the curious incident."

Holmes said nary another word, puffed on his pipe, stared out the widow and down on the passing traffic then up to the usual dark, gloomy autumnal English evening. My bleary eyes wandered the room, taking in the test tubes, a magnifying glass, stacks of unopened letters, a photograph labeled "Scandal in Bohemia," a makeup kit featuring a false nose and a rack holding a checked overcoat and a deerstalker hat.

After several minutes of solitude, Holmes spoke again.

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be truth."

"Would you be more specific?"

"Like most of my countrymen, I am not so familiar with American football, except what I watch occasionally on ESPN.

"But, in solving a problem of this sort, and sport, the grand thing is to be able to discern that the team has lost energy, originality and spirit."

"You sound like Shakespeare."

"An amateur with inexcusable literary limitations."

"Go on."

"Against these inept adversaries — 49ers, are they? — the Broncos' coach must think of a ploughman's lunch. The team must be basic, uncomplicated, tough, workmanlike.

"For your simpleton mind, that means on offense, the Broncos must script the first 20 plays of the game and perform under control — running the ball against a porous defense, without tomfoolery or potential dangerous passes, with a two-back set and five offensive linemen. Control the clock, control the first quarter. No fancypants plays. Don't fall behind or make mischievous mistakes.

"On defense, use a stern 3-4 defense — no blitzing, no nickel or dime packages, no unnecessary risks — and contain everything underneath, a linebacker spying on Frank Gore and a strong safety on the tight end. Solid, not stupid. And use Tebow more often. Alas, victory will be theirs."

"I think you solved the mystery of the Broncos. The 49ers have no shot, Sherlock."

"Elementary."

[Hydrae]

Cute; too bad McDaniels is not Holmes.

[ReynardMuldrake]

"Oh, yes," Holmes interrupted. "There is the curious incident of the defense."

"But, Holmes, the Broncos are not playing defense."

"That," he said, "is the curious incident."

[Sassy Squatch]

Really hope that the Broncos get ****smacked up and down London.

[Red Dawg]

Woody Paige Sucks

[Garcia Bronco]

It's ****ing bullshit that we have to play there. **** the NFL on this one.