What your view of sports and life would be if you had too many concussions
By J-Dub and Ryan Meehan
Editor’s Note: This article is a collaborative effort between J-Dub and Ryan Meehan from First Order Historians. Ryan also has his own blog, East End Philadelphia, which is featured in the Dubsism BlogRoll and it is well worth the read.
When a situation threatens to become a train wreck, much like the Florida State drama surrounding Jameis Winston will undoubtedly be, sometimes the facade keeping us from the inside truth starts to show cracks. As we have been prone to do in this series, we find those cracks and expose them to you, the blog-reading public.
It seems that several such cracks have surfaced in Tallahassee. It seems that
Criminole Seminole head football warden Jimbo Fisher is really struggling with the exploits of his star signal-caller as is evidenced by a series of conversations which were intercepted* by the investigative division of Dubsism.
*Legal Disclaimer – J-Dub and Meehan have a strange way of defining certain terms. “Intercepted” should be read as “completely fucking fabricated” by these two jamokes during yet another of their nights spent bombing Pine-Sol and Sterno shooters until 6 a.m. Despite that, we here at Dubsism would be willing to bet these guys probably aren’t far from the truth…
The scene opens with Jimbo Fisher in his office reading this morning’s newspaper, which as usual is filled with the exploits of Jameis Winston.
Fisher: (muttering to himself) “Hurting this team?!” Goddamnit all to hell (reaches for phone). Hey, did you read this shit today?
Undisclosed Florida State Official (UFSO): So, Captain Big Brain finally grabbed on to something about football? He’s finally figured out the tossing interceptions isn’t a good thing?
Fisher: Of all the time I spent trying to get through to this dipshit, and now that we are near the end of this shit, he finally figures out football. How did I let you talk me into this shit?
UFSO: Because I showed you game film, asshole. Don’t you even think of putting this on me. The minute you saw that kid ass-roasting everybody in high school you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him.
Fisher: Yeah, but you didn’t tell me about any of the other shit until it was too late…
UFSO: Ahhh, shut the fuck up! Don’t tell me you couldn’t take one look at that fucktard and not know he was all kinds of trouble. I mean, doesn’t it fucking tell you something when both Alabama and Auburn passed on this jerk-off?
Fisher: Yeah, I guess you’re right. So, I gotta call this asshole about this shit again, don’t I?
UFSO: Pretty much, but look at it this way. This only lasts about three more months, and then he becomes just another back-up quarterback in the NFL.
Fisher: Yeah, I guess. I’ll call you later. (hangs up).
At this point, Jimbo Fisher reaches in his desk drawer, pulls out a bottle of Old Crow and takes a monster pull right off the threads. He wipes his chin and proceeds to dial.
Fisher: (muttering to himself) Fuckin’ asshole. His phone number even spells “crab legs.”
Winston: What up, Coach?
Fisher: Hey, Jameis, I need to talk to you about some stuff.Winston: (Shuffles through Internet Explorer, selects Lil’ Wayne wallpaper...)
Fisher: ‘Scuse me, but can I get a moment of your time? I mean, we’ve got some issues here. Now I wouldn’t reckon that any of this isn’t something we can’t get through because we got ourselves one hell of an athletic department down here. But we need to talk about some of the things I’ve been hearin’ bout your behavior ’round campus…
Winston: Aw yeah, sorry coach. I’ze juss e-mailing onna my classmates about a group project we have due lata dis week.
Fisher: No problem, Jamies. I’m pleased as punch I got a guy like you under center that’s so dedicated to his studies. There was just a couple of things I needed to go over with you that have happened since you’ve been here that we haven’t had the chance to talk about…
Winston: (Shouts over a loud beat playing on computer) MAKE SAY UNNNHHHHH! NANA NANA! Gyeah! Dis was my jam back in the day! I haven’t heard Masta P in fo-eva!
Fisher: (shuffling through a lengthy list) Um…OK, so…I don’t know how I missed this, but I’m reading a campus police report from 2012 that said you were held at gunpoint by campus police for firing a BB gun at squirrels? Is that true?
Winston: Man, “Fame-us” Jameis Winston don’t roll up wit’ no BB gun. I roll up wit a .22 in mah jeans all day…Straight player fo’ real…Oh, shit…I mean, I ain’t got no gun, man…Plus those things be everywhere all up on da quad. Dey need to be undastandin’ dis Jameistown boy…Ain’t nobody be Bullwinklin’ all up in dis muthafucka…
Fisher: Wait…what? What’s Bullwinkle got to do with this?
Winston: Man, dis place be full of all dem gun-carryin’ muthafuckas with them big-ass beaver teef.
Fisher: (scratches head) Wasn’t Bullwinkle a moose? Anyway…Yeah, you do have a good point though. I hate those sons of a bitches, they’re all over the place. It’s like a buncha little bucktoothed Tim Tebows running around everywhere…
Winston: I know right? Shit coach, you know I run this bitch…
Fisher: You sure do! But what’s this I’m readin’ about how in July of last year an employee at Burger King said that you were stealing soda from the fountain? It says here that you were using ketchup cups and then an empty water receptacle to fill up on soft drinks. What’s up with that? You know we have plenty a cups in the team locker room…Ya coulda just grabbed one from there…we woulda called the Burger King and had the boosters pay for it if…
Winston: Man, who said dat shit? Whoever it is, they must be on dat Bobby Brown cuz they trippin’ yo…I went to go get some food wit’ my homies and they wuz tryin’ ta tell us dat we needed to pay fo deez Whoppaz. I’s all like “Whoppaz? Why dontchu pay fo deez nuts? Dis Jameistown’s town, beeeeitch. Beeeitch wouldn’t gimme a cup, so I started using dem little paypa shot glasses ta get mah drink on. Then I’s just be all like “Fuck dis shit” and grabbed a cup from behind da counta. Some punk-ass white beeitch came out and said I had to pay for it. I had to get all like “Beeitch, don’t no Jameis carry no cash in Jameistown…”
Fisher: Yeah, you’re right; what a stupid bitch. Maybe we need to have the Athletic Department put up some signs all around Tallahassee in the area that say “Jameistown.” Is there anything else you want on those signs?
Winston: Psssshhhh…Man it don’t matter because as soonuz I…(drops tray with all of his recently deseeded weed on it, which spills to the floor in a fashion where it can’t be rolled into a blunt without having every one of his roommate’s sock lint being torched) FUCK!!!!!!
Fisher: I’m not sure that the fine folks that support Seminole football would like having the F-bomb on a sign. Say, that reminds me…we never talked about this incident that happened in the cafeteria…Did you really stand up on a table and say “Fuck Her Right in the Pussy”? It’s cool if you did, we can get people on having that erased from some poorly run sports blogs?
Winston: HAHAHAHAHA! That shit was cray-cray. I neva said no shit like dat.
Fisher: Well, yeah. If you say so, I believe you.
Winston: I’m surprised mo’ beeitches didn’t come and gets it when they had the opportunity! You know they all want the D…know what I’m sayin’?
Fisher: (Pauses) Right. Well, you have this personal conduct hearing coming up on December 1st, so I have to get our legal team properly informed with regards to the sexual assault allegations. Do we have anything serious to worry about here?
Winston: Alligators? Who da fuck said anything about alligators? I dunno nothing ’bout no alligators!
Fisher: (Groans, does full-on “facepalm”) Not “alligators,” Jameis … “allegations.” It means when somebody’s says you did something wrong.
Winston: Man, I didn’t do no shit wit’ dat beeitch. Look, like I’m saying all them girls want the D. Dey want summa Jameis insida dem and can we really blame um? And to be honest man. It ain’t no big deal dey found mah seed in sum girl’s panties. Almost e’ry girl up in dis shit got panties wit mah spuzz on ’em.
Fisher: (Laughs) You crack me up kid…you’re truly a born leader. Who could argue with that logic?
Winston: Dat’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about!
Fisher: I’m glad we got this all cleared up, Jameis.
Winston: Hey, coach! Don’t forget Christmas is coming up! If you want, I’s can hook you up wit’ sum autographs for da fam! I usually charge a hundo a pop, but you mah boy, so I’ll hook you up!
Fisher: (Having yet another moment where he is simultaneously realizing how absolutely fucking stupid Winston is and how much in denial he is). Um…OK. Hey, when you get to practice tomorrow, remind me to give you this package I have in my office from the Oakland Raiders.
Winston: Whateva it is, you can have it. Coach B already called me and said the Patriots are gonna jack dat pick. ‘Sides, I ain’t down wit’ livin’ in no Los Angelmeles anyway.
Fisher: Well, whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.
Winston: FUCK HER RIGHT IN DA PUSSY, COACH!!!
Fisher: (Facepalms, hangs up, and reaches for the Old Crow again)
*Conversations Not Meant To Be Public is a series which began on Sports Blog Movement, and has found a new home here on Dubsism. To see previous installments, you can use search box on this site and/or click the following link to see the SBM archive.
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Wow… just wow. WInston is so unintelligent it’s not even remarkable. Did you see the Oregon game? At one point, after his 5th or 6th turnover, Winston went over to Fisher to wail and flap his arms around – perhaps sensing he was dropping to the 6th or 7th round of the NFL draft. Fisher said “STFU or go to the bench”.