DaWheyEyeSeaIt: Man against Machine

This is the way I see it.

Alex Smith: Number one pick in the 2005 draft by the San Fransico 49ers.

  • That’s fine and dandy.

Alex Smith: Didn’t perform well in camp or in the preseason, so he is left in the back up position instead of getting the nod like so many rookies are getting these days.

  • That’s gravy.

49ers: Suck.

  • That’s ok too…you had you’re time in the 90’s

49ers: Starting QB isn’t performing, so you want to test Alex Smith and get him some experience (which technically means you’re scrapping the season).

  • Don’t sweat it. You invested 24 million into this kid…get your moneys worth.

San Fran…this is where you’re thinking has gone astray:

Please, for the love of Lambardi…don’t start the child this week. Why? Indy is coming to town. So you’re going to give this guy his first memory of the NFL against the blood-thirsty Colts. First, you got Dwight Freeny who is the best pass rusher in the league, leading a defense that is giving up about six points per game. Freeny is going to make Alex Smith wish his mother was the trainer. So after D. Freeny spells his name out on Smith’s chest in broken blood vessels…you make the kid go stand on the sidelines and watch Peyton perform surgury on the Niner secondary. This is like a teen getting his liscense on Friday and his parents sigining him up for the Daytona 500 on Saturday. The boy is gonna get hurt. The worst part about it all is that he has to watch the P Mann (who will be the greatest QB to ever play when it is all said and done) disect a San Fransican frog while he is recovering between series. How humiliating. Nope…I was wrong…this is the worst part about it: They have a bye next week. They could have given Smith two weeks to prepare for his first game. They probably figured that he will need the two weeks for the reaccuring nightmares of white flashes to stop. Cause that is all the boy will see on Sunday: White Flashes.

So…San Fran, like my dad always says…

You ain’t rowing with both oars in the water….your bread ain’t done…your elevator ain’t going all the way to the top…3 fries short of a happy meal.



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