A Walk On the Wild Side

Take a walk on the wild side with Al Uhrich, ColtPower's resident funny man as he amuses you with his whacky humor.

With camp underway things are heating up for Colts fans.

The injury to Brandon Stokley, well, stinks -- and has caused much discussion in the forums.

As to who will have to step up during his absence, I'd wager Dallas Clark -- once his hamstring is healthy -- as the Colts will probably get him onto the field more with Stokley out. And Troy Walters will take the slot position in three receiver sets.

Many people are still dumping on Troy, based primarily on:

a) a belief by some that he obtained his roster spot because of his relationship to Coach Tony "Soprano" Dungy and;

(b) many still have terrifying memories of his 3-game meltdown a couple of years back on punt returns, where he handled the pigskin like it was a freshly baked, piping-hot croissant!!

Walters has proven to be a more than adequate 4th WR. I just can't see anyone else being given the slot position if Stokley misses real time, which he probably will. You need to have some experience there, and Walters has it.

Great news on "The Donald" (Strickland), whose hamstring injury isn't too serious. I expect big things from this secondary as the year progresses. Fantasy geeks (like me!) take note, and take the Colts D late. They'll be available, and I think they'll be racking up the takeaways in 2005.

I'm glad we're getting LESS info now on Dolphins camp. One of the wackiest things had to be hearing about 6'6, 330-pound rookie DT Manuel Wright being scolded by diminutive head coach Nick Saban, and promptly blubbering and bawling like a chastised tyke! Feeling a tad guilty, Saban managed to turn Wright's frown upside down by taking the youngster to McDonald's for a Happy Meal. Wright apparently had a fabulous time in the play area, where he was joined by none other than Titans man-child, Fat Albert Haynesworth!!

My thanks to whoever posted that great shot of Tarik Glenn showing up for camp, the one where they called him a linebacker. For anyone who was gawking at that photo and was secretly wondering...."Yes, they're real. And they're spectacular."

There was a great article about Glenn in the news too. A lot of it centered on the issue of his weight. Hey, whatever keeps him on the field is good for me – the guy is awesome, so good that we just forget about him, the greatest tribute an offensive lineman could get. If they say 330 is better for him than 350, fine. Personally, I think 350 on Tarik is just a little more playground for the ladies!

About a week ago, I read a column where our own beloved Peyton Manning was ranked as the 3rd most overrated quarterback by a columnist by the name of Jerry Greene. There was a link provided by one of our members, with the article and a picture of the author, who appears to be a friendly sort.

Although more than a tad disgruntled by the column, I felt I had put my childish thoughts of anger behind me....until last night -- when after a generous portion of spaghetti and macaroons, I toddled off to my bedchamber, eventually falling into a disturbed sleep wherein I partook of a MOST unusual dream....

A car horn sounds outside of the swinging bachelor pad condo of my crazy and incredibly handsome alter ego, Tony Clifton. My ride awaits. I'm going cruising with Sean Taylor and we're packing. And Koren Robinson is at the wheel with a bellyful of Courvasier.

We're on a roadtrip to Orlando.

I've got a score to settle with Jerry Greene for dissing my homeboy Peyton. Picture the scene: a dingy Floridian saloon.

Clifton, standing next to Taylor, stares down Greene, who is sweating profusely. He is sweating buckets because both of us are levelling firearms at his ample midriff. Also because he has just consumed 3 large orders of suicide wings.

Clifton, doing his best William Munny, speaks: "You, Fatman, on your feet." Greene rises (with no mechanical aids, an impressive show of strength!). He eyes the two would-be assassins – Taylor is decked out in a bizarre fashion mixture of "South Central gangsta" and "Unforgiven Cowpuncher Couture". I am cowboy-cool in a Longrider's coat, leather chaps, and a Captain Crunch-style hat (why the lid, I have no idea).

Greene is sporting skintight Daisy Dukes and one of those pointy metal Madonna brassieres.

The tension mounts, and Taylor decides to get things rolling. But while he might play a mean safety, Taylor can't figure out how to disengage one, and grows increasingly frustrated as his weapon fails to fire.

"Hah! Misfire," a gleeful Greene belts out, and pegs Taylor in the skull with a well-aimed drumstick. Enraged, Taylor resorts to Plan B, and begins pistol-whipping Greene into submission, mumbling something about stolen ATVs.

Meanwhile, Clifton is delighted. He is famished, so he puts down his gun and retrieves the delicious poultry-projectile from a pile of peanut shells on the barroom floor.

I awoke at this very moment, my Colts PJ's soaked in sweat! If any of my ColtPower friends are versed in psychiatry, please contact me and explain....

...Especially the significance of the Napoleon hat and the Madonna bra.

Thank you, and good day to you.

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