Thanksgiving erasure saddens me. Christmas is a magical holiday, especially if you have kids, but Thanksgiving is my favorite day of the year. I don’t even mind decorating the house early, but like Frank Costanza, I find tinsel distracting. This is especially true when I’ve been tasked with the full Thanksgiving menu for years, and I’m in the freaking zone.
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The messaging behind Thanksgiving has remained relatively untarnished. It has its virtue and tradition mostly intact, without the commercial excess (figuratively) cheapening the experience. I was too conked out on tryptophan most years to camp out in front of Best Buy on Black Friday when that was a thing. I guess I’ve been too deep into the underbelly of retail to understand the allure of the whole spectacle.
My family really can only be tolerated in small doses. They’re mostly wonderful, but just a lot. Between the pre-dinner nature walk and concealing a slice of Costco pumpkin pie under a whipped cream Kilimanjaro, the Thanksgiving spread is legendary.
If an obese buzzard is the centerpiece of your supper, you’re doing it wrong. Turkey Day is about the side dishes. From buttery mashed potatoes and silky gravy, to southern mac and cheese and double-smoked ham with an apple bourbon glaze, I live for filling those trash can lid-sized “special occasion” plates from edge to edge. As it turns out, the passive-aggressive barbs and antagonistic ribbing about my Dallas Cowboys get muffled significantly by cornbread stuffing.
Ah, yes, the Dallas Cowboys. Their presence on my television screen every year definitely eased me into fandom. The nostalgia drips like Pat Summerall’s dulcet timbre melding with John Madden’s unmatched exuberance. Thanksgiving is nirvana for my soul. I wear my jersey every year in a sea of 49ers and Raiders fans who don’t know ball enough to get under my skin anymore.
Terrell Owens has drawn both adulation and ire on the fourth Thursday of November. I have cursed at Quincy Carter and stomped excitedly for Marion Barber. I told my great-grandmother about Dat Nguyen one year when I didn’t have the heart to tell her that her green bean casserole from an assortment of cans wasn’t very good. I was such an annoying kid.
There are only two instances where I’m not squinting incredulously at my bleating alarm in the wee morning hours. One is for an early tee time, and the other is to start Thanksgiving meal prep. The Lions come on at 9 o’clock in the morning here, and I time kickoff to the three hours of assembling foil serving trays to be oven-ready by then.
My in-laws have a peculiar breakfast tradition that packs enough sodium to have me retaining water, like Scott Hanson on Sundays. Pam makes her ham hock white beans and biscuits, while Mike fries up the pork Vinha D’Alhos straight from a one-week brine in wine, garlic and peppercorns. I can clearly see why bears, wild or Chicago, go into hibernation this time of year.
Week 11 marks the final push to the fantasy football playoffs. Last week was the last drag through the injury, and bye week frosting for the middle finger that has been the 2023 season. Pivotal players are returning from injury, while others emerge rested from a much-needed week off.
I won’t judge you if you like the cranberry sauce from the can that Aunt Paula slices with a butter knife, but fluke season is over in fantasy. This week goes a long way in defining who the contenders are while exposing whose yeast rolls will fall flat and crumble.
Passtronaut, This is Jet. Jet, Passtronaut
The Joshua Dobbs story is incredible. His NASA-coined nickname is “The Passtronaut,” which might be the most original moniker in the history of sports. Lost in the oversaturated narrative around Dobbs’ intellect is his athleticism and skill on the field. Justin Jefferson‘s return from injured reserve (IR) is like having bottle service at a desert oasis. Throw in Kevin O’Connell’s sudden realization that Ty Chandler is a lot better than Alexander Mattison, and this offense is already saying, “Kirk, who?”
The Vikings are legitimate NFC playoff contenders as currently constructed. Brian Flores’ hyper-aggressive defense is working like a charm, while Dobbs brings a certain “never say die” attitude to the huddle. Jefferson and Jordan Addison are a formidable duo on the outside, while TJ Hockenson has been fantastic in his own right. Minnesota was fraudulent last season but now lurk like a lioness in the grass.
Can’t Stop It (CSI) Miami
Can the Miami Dolphins beat good teams? They haven’t yet. The shot in the arm they need is their phenomenal rookie, De’Von Achane. The speedster from Texas A&M is sporting inhuman per-touch metrics this season and is due back from IR as soon as this week. Mike McDaniel is salivating at the possibilities afforded to him by his fleet-footed backfield weapon. Jaylen Waddle and Tyreek Hill make football fun, but Achane makes it impossible to ignore.
I, for one, believe in Miami. The Dolphins go as Tua Tagovailoa goes, and he doesn’t get nearly enough respect. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if the “can’t win tough games” narrative is an afterthought in a few weeks. McDaniel is a veritable football genius and will have his team ready to score a boatload of points and challenge every opponent to keep up with the breakneck pace.
Shouldering Responsibility
I am extremely proud of my friend, Dorian Thompson-Robinson. He is an outstanding human being and will make his second career start for Cleveland against Pittsburgh this week. Deshaun Watson reeled off an improbable comeback win over Baltimore last week but will undergo season-ending shoulder surgery.
The 6-3 Browns are still squarely in the playoff picture, even with a fifth-round rookie QB at the helm. Jerome Ford and Kareem Hunt are more than adequate as a rushing tandem. Amari Cooper keeps bringing tears of chagrin to Cowboys fans every week. The defense is the catalyst here, so DTR doesn’t need to light it up for the Browns to find success.
Speaking of the Steelers, Matt Canada’s descent from his ivory watch tower has yielded positive returns. He can now look his players square in the face when he runs the same route concepts on every play. As strong as Pittsburgh’s defense has looked in recent weeks, don’t be surprised if the rookie from UCLA is a viable fantasy starter on Sunday.
The Steelers will have their rebuttal in the form of newly-adorned starting RB Jaylen Warren. The AFC North is loaded, putting this game smack dab in the crosshairs for those of us curious about how it will all shake out.
K1 to Trey, Go!
How about the new fantasy football stretch run darlings, the Arizona Cardinals? I’m dead serious. This team is not intent on tanking, and Kyler Murray‘s return has sparked joy on the teams where I had him stashed in an IR spot for months. Marquise Brown did fine with Dobbs but now has true WR1 upside every week.
James Conner is back to remind everyone he’s the only starting RB who still vultures touchdowns. My sweet baby angel, Trey McBride, has been a revelation, with two scintillating fantasy outings in his last three games.
McBride is cut from the same mold as Jeremy Shockey. If she doesn’t remember the 2001 Miami Hurricanes or the New York Giants from 2002 to 2007, she’s too young for you, bro. The Colorado State alum is big, fast, and has a nasty streak just like Shockey. With how terrible the Arizona defense is, feel free to pencil McBride in as a top-five TE for the rest of the season, with Murray threatening QB1 numbers every week.
The Cardinals are the one team that won’t receive proportional fanfare compared to their contribution to championship fantasy rosters. Take that for what it’s worth.
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