Tuesday, August 14, 2007

LSD, Madden 07 and Me

by Jay Mohr
Courtesy of FoxSports.com

This past year my wife and I were dosed at a restaurant. By "dosed" I mean we were drugged. It was a Mexican restaurant that I won't name — but it rhymes with Tel Jurrito. Judging by the way the parking lot of the restaurant was breathing; we both guessed that it was LSD. We both initially panicked. We went home for safety. My wife had a tough time riding it out.

I played Madden and it saved my life.

Neither my wife nor I do drugs. Neither one of us knew what an acid trip was like, but on that afternoon in the San Fernando Valley, we found out in a hurry. It started shortly after we paid our bill and tipped 20 percent (always!). We both started to sweat and get nervous. My wife kept asking me if I thought it was hot in the restaurant, I told her yes and then started wondering, "How does she know that it's hot in the restaurant?!"

I excused myself and went to the bathroom. Forty minutes later my wife stuck her head in the men's room and asked me if I was okay. Considering I was just sitting on the toilet, fully clothed, taking my pulse over and over again, I quickly surmised that I was not okay.
text-decoration:underline;We decided to go to the store on the way home and get something to drink. My wife grabbed a few bottles of Coke Zero and I grabbed a two-liter bottle of Sunkist. I held it toward the heavens and exclaimed, "Look how ORANGE this is!" Mrs. Mohr said, "I don't like it, it's hurting my eyes!" When I yelled back, "I want to swim in it!" we froze, looked each other in the eye and realized we needed to get home as quickly as possible.

Not being able to tell the difference between taillights and red lights, I stopped for them both. Three hours into what was normally a 10-minute trip, we pulled into our driveway. My bride decided to crawl into bed and try and read a book.

I broke out the Madden '07.

I have always heard people who have done a lot of LSD say that you have to "ride the snake" and "don't let the snake ride you." I rode the snake all the way to The Meadowlands where I was the Jets playing at home against the Chiefs. It was a beautiful day for football. I was tripping my face off and the temperature was 52 degrees.

As Mike Nugent launched the opening kickoff towards Dante Hall, my wife shouted from the bedroom, "Honey, how do you feel?" My answer was, "GREAT!" And I was. The Chiefs wore red and white and the Jets wore white and green. Shaun Ellis wore number 92 and Kerry Rhodes wore number 25. Just like in real life.

A half hour later, I heard from the bedroom, "I am still kind of freaking out!" Not me. I was fine. Four hours into my first acid trip and I had found a safe place ... the Jets' huddle. Everything in this virtual world was just as I desperately needed it.

Chad Pennington wore No. 10 and Laveranues Coles caught anything that was near him. All the plays in the playbook were the same as when I wasn't tripping and all the players were just how I remembered them. Adrian Jones was useless for pass blocking. Tight ends worked wonderfully for me in the red zone. And the Chiefs couldn't stop the run against a Pop Warner team.

Pennington still had a weak arm and after he threw an interception I slammed my head set down on the ground and began screaming at the assistant coaches around me. As I started to ask Chad what the hell he was thinking, my wife hollered from the other room, 'Honey who are you yelling at?' I didn't really have an answer for her ... I meekly replied, "my coaches" and stared down at my fingers. Then I had a revelation! When you play Madden, your fingers are your coaches! Wow, was I HIGH!

For the love of God, please go out and buy your Madden '08 Tuesday. It might save your life. You never know when you might get slipped a mickey and find yourself listening to the Black Crowes, white knuckling a 55-yard field goal attempt as the walls of your house melt around you.
I am going to get my Madden tomorrow and I'm suddenly craving enchiladas.

EA SPORTS, "Madden. Ride the snake."

Best of lucky, Jay Mohr