It's Week Eight, and we're still Tecmo-ing your face off because I'm a sycophant. (For those who are confused by this strange, futuristic "Tecmo" and "internets" thing, check out the explanation from the first week here, idiots).

Last week, we tried something new: Readers wrote some of the previews. It was kind of fun, but it didn't actually save me any time on the whole Tecmo process, so I didn't do it again this week. But I've opted for something else that's new. Newer new, like Go-Gurt.

The new thing's realism, motherfuckers: For each game, I tried to do SOMETHING that would cast some extra realism on the game, be it replacing an injured guy or calling plays like they might or simply coaching the team that I think's gonna win. It's part of an effort I call "these picks have been pretty shitty recently," and I hope it will help me improve on my abhorrent record against the spread.

Roll out the thanks machine (the "thank-spank"!): A big thanks again to Will at Deadspin, who mentioned last week's picks in the BLOGDOME (and a congrats so far to his Cardinals), and Steve Noah, who put us on his very cool sports video game site, Operation Sports (No relation to WTAE's Operation Football).

As always, if you mentioned this post in your blog or something and I didn't thank you here, it is because you are not important and I hate you, so go get a pretzel at the mall, bitch (Actually, email me if I missed you because I am a shameless sycophant). If you'd like to talk Tecmo with me for a story or something, I am a publicity whore. Whore means someone who has sex for money. Email me at exburgher@gmail.com and I will oblige your request. Anyway, let's get your face Tecmo-ed off already.

Again, I'm playing these games in "Coach" mode, so slow down on the "How did you not hit that wide open receiver ROFLMAO, you suck at life Joe Rogan" emails. I'm calling the plays, but the computer is (for the most part, poorly) executing them, what with the not winning blocking fights and why do you keep running into your blockers, dumbface.

Please email me to tell me how much you hate this and me at exburgher@gmail.com. If you're interested in playing against me for a specific game of an upcoming preview, or better yet, know a fan of the Steelers' upcoming opponents who would like to play, email me about that, too.

(Note: These previews are 100% intended for gambling purposes. Fuck your couch, NFL.)

(If you'd like to be added to our email list to receive updates of new Tecmo previews and other articles, simply email me a message that says "Join" in the subject line.)

(One other note: I'm able to play with updated rosters thanks to game files from the guys at the Tecmo Super Bowl Repository, most notably Luke Bluske and Matt "Turns out it's pronounced like Obi-Wan" Knobbe. For those of you who want to play Tecmo on your own (or against me), click here for an explanation of how to do it. I'm mostly just going to send you over to my friends at the Tecmo Super Bowl Repository, but you can read my explanation of going there before going there if you want.)

Steelers at the bottom!

Game One: San Francisco 49ers at Chicago Bears

Realism Factor: I played as the Bears and used Thomas Jones as the primary RB until…well, you'll see.

So I don't usually listen to sports talk radio: Endless strings of guys calling in to loudly proclaim that coaches are developmentally disabled, the players are dropping passes that their grandmothers could snag, and the hosts should be stabbed while being forced to tap Don Zimmer doggy. But I happened to have it on during Sean Salisbury's Chicago show a few Thursdays ago, and I left it on because I sort of like Salisbury's constant being wrong and, oh yeah, he likes the Steelers. Anyway, the Bears' offensive coordinator—who happens to be Norv Turner's brother, go figure—was on, and Salisbury asked him, "Five and oh doesn't suck, huh?" Turner didn't reply—probably because he thought he misheard him and then didn't want to say "suck"—so Sean repeated the question … THREE TIMES. I mean, I know people say "shit" on TV now, but saying "doesn't suck" just seems irresponsible and, oh, completely retarded. But I couldn't help think of it during this Tecmo sim, because after spending a whole game playing as the Bears and using Thomas Jones in place of the sky-is-falling unprepared fatty Cedric Benson, I realized I forgot to tape the goddamned game, and did it again as the 49ers to spite all of you too-soon Super Bowl Shuffling bastards (or, as I like to call them, "premature shuff-jaculators." You can use that one.). Lemme tell you: That DOES suck, Sean Salisbury. (I'm starting a campaign for this to be part of the American vernacular. See www.thisdoessucksalisbury.com)

Final Score:

...in overtime.

Key Play:

I almost said the key play was some BS touchdown I scored with Frank Gore on a fourth and one because I am clearly off my game; I mean, shit yo, this one went to OVERTIME. It wasn't the late Bears TD that was really important for that, though, but this bomb-ass run by Physically Attractive Rexford late in the game that set it up. I just typed "bomb-ass." Seriously not with it today.

Least Valuable Player:

Intelligence, both artificial and non-functioning actual. Yeah, I forgot to tape this game and am having trouble formulating sentences, but the Tecmo A.I.—which was controlling the fucking BEARS—didn't run the ball until there was 1:42 left in the half. Um, he isn't THAT physically attractive.

Game Two: Atlanta Falcons at Cincinnati Bengals

Realism Factor: All of the players on both teams brought guns, er, I only called rushing plays as the Falcons.

As I've said in this space before, my hatred for the Bengals doesn't really cover Chad Johnson—because no one can cover 85! Kidding. I mostly don't hate the guy because 1) he's harmless and seems to be doing all the attention-getting stuff not because he's a petulant six-year old, but someone who wants people to pay him to do Fathead commercials and, oh, 2) he sucks against the Steelers. So when someone at work mentioned to me that Johnson has said he will only respond if addressed as "Ocho Cinco," I decided that it was the greatest thing I'd heard since "I'm not pregnant." And I don't like it because I think it's some smart satire on those stupid commercials where the NFL is like, "hey, Latino kids! Stop liking baseball and hit each other already!" I like it because it's patently ridiculous and is the kind of stupid thing that people should say all the time, like Josh Miller nicknaming his leg "Thunder". I know what you're thinking: "But ocho cinco doesn't even mean 85! This is like Bono saying one, two, three, 14! He is disgracing football and Latino culture!" Seriously, Spanish isn't a culture, it's a fucking language. Go kill yourself or go back to Spain, people who deserve to kill themselves. And then kill yourself.

Final Score:

Key Play:

This wasn't really the key play at all—a fumbled kickoff that followed it was, as it led Atlanta to a 14-point lead—but it's not often that I get to talk about phenomenal blocking in Tecmo Bowl. Usually, a RB breaks free because he is in-the-Matrix fast, but this one was all the big uglies.

Least Valuable Player:

Ocho Cinco had dos catches but cero touchdowns, which is malo. It only took me ten minutes to do those translations on AltaVista because I am a GENIUS.

Game Three: Arizona Cardinals at Green Bay Packers

Realism Factor: I threw up because this game existed. Also, I didn't run with the Cardinals because they suck at it.

I feel like someone in the NFL front office takes heroin and can paint the future (if you aren't watching "Heroes" on NBC, you should start because I am going to make a lot of stupid jokes about it; also, it is pretty awesome and I don't want it to be canceled), like they KNEW the Buzzsaw were going to blow that big lead against the Ursa Majors I AM NICKNAMING LIKE TMQ. The Cards had not one, but TWO cupcakes scheduled after that game, just in case they weren't able to beat the Oakland "first team to lose sixteen games in seven weeks like ever" Raiders. Which they didn't. Fortunately, the Packers have a quarterback who knows how to take a big deficit and turn it into a REALLY big deficit. Brett Favre should run the federal reserve or something. I am Lewis Black, so imagine I said that like I was really mad or about to have a heart attack or whatever the hell it is he's doing.

Final Score:

Key Play:

When you win 41-0, there isn't exactly a "turning point," per se, unless you count the pregame team meal. Sadly, I'm not playing Tecmo in "Superstar" mode, so you don't get to watch players digest, leaving me to pick this Ahman Green fumble—the first of three—which led to the Cardinals' second TD.

Least Valuable Player:

"I ask you for help turning the ball over, Jo-Favre-bu. But you no help me. I say fuck you Jo-Favre-bu. I do it myself."

Game Four: Houston Texans at Tennessee Titans

Realism Factor: Wali Lundy is a fucking beast.

In case you forgot, Mario Williams is made of electricity and is super exciting to the tune of 2.5 sacks in six games (which, actually, isn't that bad. Put away the noose already). Also, he eats mushrooms and gets bigger. So you might have forgotten that Houston has someone named fucking WALI—which looks like it should be an acronym for a gun or a land mine or something—and that he will run all over you, Jacksonville Jaguars and now also Tennessee Titans. Feel his power and smell his Lunderwear (I own the trademark on that one, gunboy). Also, boo NFL for having all of the stupid-name teams playing one another in a round-robin type tournament in the past few weeks while LEAVING BALTIMORE OUT. Seriously, where are the Ravens in all of this?

Final Score:

Key Play:

Not a play, but a drive full of Wali for you. The 26,000-play drive that put Lundy in the Lund Zone for his first TD gave the MostAmericanCowsInAmerica a 24-14 lead. Cows, we stand as one (did anyone ever look at that website for the first time and think it said "America West And As One" and wondered why the hell your friends emailed you a site for some stupid bargain airline that flies out of Eugene, Oregon or whatever? Of COURSE you did).

Least Valuable Player:

Luigi Williams, because I am a second-player hater.

Game Five: Seattle Seahawks at Kansas City Chiefs

Realism Factor: Maurice Morris in for Shaun Alexander, Deion Branch in the starting lineup, and Seneca Wallace…well, you will see how I did not check the injury report mid-sim.

I was traveling last weekend, so I didn't get my normal glut of NFL highlights and news—Football Night in America After the Day Ends in the Western Hemisphere of Earth, NFL Gameday on the NFL Network—on Sunday night, and I haven't been keeping up with PTI or my reading of mid-week non-Ocho Cinco-related NFL drama (well, except for whether or not Ben was playing), so while I knew that Matt Hasselbeck had to come out of last Sunday's game, I wasn't sure if he was going to play this week (he's not). Instead of, you know, checking, I decided to split the difference and play Seneca Wallace in the first half, and the Hass (why does everyone not say this instead of sounding like they swallowed pool balls?) for the second half (and ultimately overtime). So don't trust this sim if you're using these to bet. Also, just send me an envelope full of money instead of using these to actually pick games, perpetual loser.

Final:

...in overtime.

Key Play:

The Chiefs could have won this game about 63 times—especially if the computer had thought to run the ball EVER—but this particular blown opportunity—a missed 43-yard field goal in overtime—was the most egregious. Egregious like the amount of dashes and parentheses I have used in this preview.

Least Valuable Player:

Should it be Lawrence Tynes "of a fork" or Trent Green "like many poisonous substances"? Which of these should I use to kill myself for thinking of more Chris Berman names?

Game Six: Baltimore Ravens at New Orleans Saints

Realism Factor: I was the Saints. That and the Ravens defense is overrated and they imploded when everyone thought they would be the best team in their division.

I can't be realistic for both teams in a game—see above, where Kerry Collins captained the Titans' ship—so sometimes things slipped through. I played as the Saints because I think they'll win a game in which Steve McNair probably isn't going to play (and a game in which the Ravens will still not be good at football), so I couldn't ALSO be the Ravens and not play McNair in favor of Kyle "If you squint just right I'm Vinny Testa"Boller. Fortunately, the Ravens rallied together to honor TestaBoller's memory, turning the ball over on three consecutive possessions to lose the game. We will never forget, Kyle.

Final:

Key Play:

Baltimore was actually winning this one 17-9 when ThingOnHisFace Brees threw a long one to Devery "Yes, that is my first name and not an endorsement for adult diapers or a for-profit university or something" Henderson. After the ensuing touchdown, the Ravens fumbled the kickoff, and then threw picks on the next two possessions. All three turnovers led to scores.

Least Valuable Player:

Despite the win, I must, as is custom, bust on John "What the fuck is that thing Chris Berman says after" Carney, who had an extra point blocked. Sorry, Irish people.

Game Seven: Tampa Bay Bucs at New York Giants

Realism Factor: Well, semi-realistic. Tim Rattay replaced Chris Simms at quarterback.

I'm not sure if I wrote about this in previews or just said stuff about it to Dr. Burgher in emails, but I've bet for some time that Ronde Barber probably hates—or at least really resents—Tiki Barber. Ronde's been an All-Pro since Tiki was that tiny guy backing up Ron Dayne, and he has a Super Bowl ring, but he's stuck doing local car commercials with Mike Tomczak and Brandon Arroyo while Tiki is shilling Caddilacs and rubbing bald heads for power with Kornheiser and Wilbon. Well, the New York Times did an article about just that this week, and only THINLY veiled Ronde's seething while making Tiki look like more of a kiss-ass than he does on his own. So either I DID write it in a preview (seriously, I could just check already) or someone at the Times is reading my gmail. But doing so to steal my ideas is a matter of national security or whatever, so I'm cool with it.

Final:

Key Play:

Here's a Cadillac you CAN'T sell, Tiki: A super-long all-run drive ran much clock late in the game, culminating in this clinching TD. The relentless pursuit of ZING, bitch!

Least Valuable Player:

Tiki Barber. Take THAT, seven minutes younger twins everywhere! (I actually like Tiki Barber, so this is weird.)

Game Eight: Jacksonville Jaguars at Philadelphia Eagles

Realism Factor: I was the Eagles, and I took a break to eat soup (seriously). It was Progresso, though. BAHston Clam CHOWDA.

I'm having a hard time writing the game preview the way I want to without producing a bunch of personal information I think it's none too wise to share. Now, I don't keep my name, roots, alma mater or occupation a secret—they're easy to find on this site—but there are certain times when not saying something is wiser; I learned this when I got fired for writing something on the Ex, and I don't want to get in trouble again. So suffice it to say that most people are racists, and most of those racists who are football fans say things like "well-spoken" about black players when they mean "not like the stereotype usually applied, which is being supported through euphemism." So when I say that this game is a matchup between well-spoken quarterbacks—one of whom has Tyrannosaurus arms, the other of whom was hit by a car of whom—I am lampooning what a racist you are and don't want to get in trouble about it, black-hater. Not that this usually stops me from making this joke, but the specific anecdote was about a person I don't want to name, TODD JONES OF THE DETROIT TIGERS.

Final:

Key Play:

It was probably unwise of me to go for it on fourth and two deep in Eagles territory early in the game. I'll know next time, I guess.

Least Valuable Player:

Gotta got with old Tyrannosaurus arms here. Where's the spoon? In your arm that is too short to reach your mouth CHOWDA CHOWDA CHOWDA hearty.

Game Nine: St. Louis Rams at San Diego Chargers

Realism Factor: The Chargers look stupider in their baby blue uniforms than baby puke does.

One of the interesting things about the updated Tecmo ROMs is that admitted Tecmo genius Matt Knobbe changes the colors of the uniforms to reflect scheme changes by the teams. It's a little detail, but I watch enough of this shit that I get to pore over the minutia and you're going to like it. But sometimes, as with the Rams, the color thing creates, well, CHARM. Baby puke-colored charm. It's the kind of quirk that FITS the Rams, though (and I'm about to make a logic stretch, so get ready to call me a retard), because no matter how much you tell me you're recommitted to the run ("honestly, these uniforms are gold"), every time I see you Marc Bulger is heave-hoing to Torry Holt ("dude, that's baby puke").

Final:

Key Play:

The game was score-for-score until Brees Blows, Rivers Flows threw a long interception in the end zone on a flea flicker. The Rams score on the next play, a bomb to Torry Holt, because they are committed to the run. They did not look back, because LOOK OUT THERE IS A MONSTER.

Least Valuable Player:

People who have common sense and/or no balls. That's right, people with no balls, you does suck, Sean Salisbury, because you would NOT have called a flea flicker on the 10 like the Chargers did, because you think flea flickers are for long plays only. But being awesome knows no distance, only touchdowns, and you would not have scored one, eunuchs.

Game Ten: New York Jets at Cleveland Browns

Realism Factor: I clawed my eyes out during this game.

Which fat former Bill Belichick assistant will triumph? Will it be eight-year old Eric Mangini and his "I write plays during snacktime" offense? Or Romeo Crennel's "you can see me from space" strategy? If this isn't the preview story for this game, I don't understand anything, really. What else are you going to report on? The Jets might make the playoffs if the AFC becomes ridiculously mediocre over the second half of the season and eight wins gets you in? The Browns would probably be better if they, well, if they were a completely different team? That there aren't enough black coaches in the NFL and there's also a paltry number of black coordinators, even though a disproportionate number of players are black? Wait, that's a good story. Eric Mangini is young! And fat! Will he be as fat as Charlie Weis?

Final:

Key Play:

: I looked away for a second during this game, and when I looked back at the screen, Charlie Frye was SCREAMING across open green to the end zone. Also, he was running. But the screaming really did it, especially because maybe now someone will pay attention to HEY LOOK A BISCUIT.

Game 11: Indianapolis Colts at Denver Broncos

Realism Factor: I played as the Colts, and Denver's good at stopping the run.

So I was thinking about this whole "clutch kicker" thing with Adam Vinatieri. And, um, isn't pretty much EVERY kick a kicker makes—save those that tack onto big leads or tap into enormous deficits—clutch? I mean, this is a position where you have one chance to perform a very precise act, to kick an odd-shaped ball through uprights from WAY long distance, and your performance either makes or breaks the drive that set it up, and you either end up being celebrated or eating Cheez-its in front of the TV while defensive backs bend strippers over piles of money? Shouldn't any kick that breaks a tie, ties the game, or puts a team up by three then be called clutch? Isn't that just being a fucking GOOD kicker? Can we clarify the whole Vinatieri thing and say, "the best kicker of game-winners ever"? Or, better yet, "in recent memory"? Because when the dude misses a pretty long one early on when the game's still knotted at zero, he's potentially missing a kick that could LOSE THE GAME. Not clutch, methinks.

Final:

Key Play:

There it is—the game-winning touchdown, a pass to Marvin Harrison. It followed a long-ass drive that I eloquently dubbed "nice" in the notes, and it won the game. Yes, this makes me lame, but it is a MARVIN HARRISON TOUCHDOWN. That this is boring is kind of the joke. Eh, whatever. I suck at concept jokes. Like your mom does at…not rearing idiots who are worthless and need to look up what "rearing" means! ZING!

Least Valuable Player:

I hate to throw the Indy offensive line under the bus, so I will throw them under this enormous truck with my laser, rocket arm. I am only five foot ten, though. But if you say anything about it, I will destroy your cornea with my arm, which is made of lasers. Also, I don't wait in grocery lines very often.

Game 12: Dallas Cowboys at Carolina Panthers

Realism Factor: The quarterback is a total Romo-sexual!

That’s right, bitches! It’s Romo time! America’s team is going to be helmed by a guy who has never stared a game before, even in college I think! Where did this guy go to college anyway, CHINA? Oh, ME SO HORNY and THROW INTERCEPTION! What a total Romo! Which is like gay, only Chinese and inexperienced at quarterback! (Thus concludes ridiculous racist time.) RomoCop! Romo sapiens! Give some spare change to this Romo, he is a veteran!

Final:

Key Play:

By the way, there was a game, and the RomeBoys got Keeeeeeeeled. Probably wouldn’t have been so bad if the Dallas QB hadn’t thrown this one to Mike Minter, who, um, plays for Carolina. Maybe he shouldn’t like boys so much! What a Romo!

Least Valuable Player:

This is totally Drew Bledsoe’s fault. Fucking loser.

Game 13: New England Patriots at Minnesota Vikings

Realism Factor: The Vikings wear purple and are less good than New England.

Remember Jones Soda (or more importantly, am I the only person that forgot about it until ten minutes ago)? It's the kind of hippie shit that usually makes me want to set VW Microbuses (microbus-i?) ablaze, what with all the "we're for equality" and "you can take barely-in-focus pictures of your rabbit that you keep pent up in a shoebox and we'll put it on our bottle! Oh yeah, also, we are for animal rights but do not see a conflict here!" But no matter how much the shit agitates me, it always is what it is: really, ridiculously accurately-flavored soda that makes you go, "yeah, that does taste like green apples! I didn't even realize I kind of maybe wanted that! And hey, unlike Jelly Belly beans, there's no chance I'll grab a handful and end up with buttered popcorn, peanut butter and jalapeno! Actually, that sounds kind of good!" Yeah, the Patriots are like Jones Soda: They're boring and annoying and I'm sick of hearing about how great their goddamned bunnies look, but they are what they are and they're pretty fucking apple-y.

Final Score:

---Greg