You heard me. BOOOOOOOOOOOO!
I booed on Saturday. Not a lot, but enough to where people around me started to dislike me. Seriously, what's the big deal?
I enjoyed an entire off-season's worth of rhetoric from our new coaching staff -- namely Bill Stewart. This year was going to be different: down field passing, more variety in the offense, pre-snap motion. Has any of it happened? Not really. In fact, our down field passing may have decreased and our pre-snap motion looks more like a Chinese fire drill than anything else.
Basically we've been duped. I don't want to say intentionally, because I think Stew is a doggone man of doggone character. But he hyped everything incessantly all summer, only to fall flat this season. If he had told the fanbase that transition to an amended offense would be tough, expectations would be a little different. But he had to go and get everyone's hopes up. Personally, I was masturbating to post routes and twelve yard outs. Unfortunately, I can't do that anymore. I'm forced to think about bubble screens and flare passes. It's like going from modern-day internet porn to 15th century Gutenburg porn.
To me, that is grounds for booing. And let me clear, I'm not booing the players. I am booing the grown men on the sideline that are being paid not to be incompetent. And remember, they're being paid quite well. I think it's not too much to ask that they run more than three plays during the course of the game. Unless those three plays all go for touchdowns, which happened a lot under one former coach.