Replacement Refs, And Other Replacements

“Come on, McCoy, I need you for my fantasy [team].” ~Replacement NFL official (allegedly) to LeSean McCoy

With the NFL referee’s union still on strike, things are starting to boil over. Anyone who watched the Patriots-Ravens game last night can agree that the hapless replacements are clueless and lost at best and a danger to the game at worst. I think Bill Belichick is a pompous ass, and even I agreed with him for once on Sunday night. These poor zebras are surrounded by lions…and the lions are getting angry and frustrated.

But when I think about it, the obvious chaos of the first three weeks of the NFL this year isn’t about football. It’s about having the best people doing the job. (The majority come from anything from lower divisions in the college ranks to the Lingerie League, which is the equivalent of sending a first-year medical student to perform life-saving brain surgery.) When I pay good money for a product, I want the best available. That includes my entertainment. On those rare occasions I scrape together enough for a trip to my local stadium, I hope to see the best players, the best coaches, and, yes, the best officiating possible.

The regular refs may not make it back this season. If they don’t, someone somewhere is going to get hurt. These players, and their coaches, as the recent Bountygate in New Orleans proves, will try and get away with whatever it takes to win. If these 300-pound behemoths know that the NFL equivalent of substitute teachers are on the watch, it’s going to get ugly. Mark my word: there will be some nasty fights this year if the union and the League can’t reach an agreement.

The idea of replacements, though, is an appealing one. There are quite a few people in my life I’d love to replace. It seems a good many of them have been on the job too long. They’ve gotten complacent. They’re strictly on a hot seat, and it’s time for them to go:

The surly folks at the public parking garage.

This also goes for turnpike attendants and the nutballs in the orange vests who man the parking lots during special events. I’m just trying to give you one-tenth my daily salary for the privilege of parking my car in your smelly, disgusting facility. The least you can do is say “thank you.” I’ll even accept a perfunctory grunt.

The people from my bank who insist on calling me during mealtimes.

Look, I know you’re trying to sell a certain number of loan packages or IRAs. It’s your job. But, ya know, doesn’t your marketing department do surveys and realize that most people eat dinner from 5-7 PM?

The bill collectors looking for the previous owner of my phone number.

I’m not her. I’ve told you as much at least four times. I know you think it’s some clever ruse to avoid paying my bills, but trust me, if I were here and I’d been that clever in the first place, I’d never have racked up all these bills I couldn’t pay. Save your energy.

Whomever designs most modern women’s clothes.

In case you guys hadn’t noticed, women are getting taller. Nothing is more annoying than going into a store looking for something other than a size Small. This also applies to shoes. Trying to find shoes in my size (12W) is about as easy as looking for the Holy Grail…while blindfolded.

The TSA. Enough said.

Speaking of shoes, it’s a good thing I don’t fly much anymore, because if you’ve ever tried to unlace a pair of Chuck Taylors with a bad knee while balancing a laptop bag, shopping for 12Ws seems easy by comparison.

Who, or what, would you want replaced in your life? How do you feel about the replacement NFL referees?

Coming Friday: the final showdown of the P&Q Hunger Games! Should be fun, so stay tuned! Don’t forget to “Like” and subscribe so the site mascot doesn’t start talking to his shoes…and socks… again.

~ by Howlin' Mad Heather on September 24, 2012.