Fumblr: The secret of Chad Henne's mustache

In this week's Fumblr: Chad Henne's mustache, Rick Reilly nightmare fuel, a Thanksgiving stance against stuffing, and more.

Fumblr is the fake blogging platform that examines the NFL through invented memes. It runs every Wednesday.


I'm over mustaches. This whole ironic embrace of the mustache -- the nostalgia for '80s Tom Selleck, the month your co-workers grow one for a good cause, the mustache mugs, the mustache dog toys, the mustache airplanes -- is exhausting. I can't handle all the winking and nudging and bullshit conversations I have to have with people growing mustaches. "My wife HATES it." "You know, I'm thinking about keeping it after November." No, continue: tell me more about growing hair on your face. Tell me the longest possible version of the story.



And yet Chad Henne is so majestically transformed by his mustache that I have to question everything I believe. Prior to Sunday, Henne was barely more than a warm body NFL teams could shove under center as a last resort. In Miami, he was a stopgap between Chad Pennington and Matt Moore, a clean-shaven nobody who threw more interceptions than touchdowns.

Enter mustachioed Chad Henne, a dashing stranger with a dimple in his chin and a mischievous glint in his eye. He strolls onto the field in relief of Blaine Gabbert -- NOTE: the clean-shaven Henne couldn't get a job ahead of Blaine Gabbert -- and coolly throws for 354/4/0 against one of the best defenses in the league. He throws deep balls. He unlocks the talent of Justin Blackmon. He smirks when the opposing kicker misses the game-winner and sends it to overtime.

We have more than three years of evidence that Chad Henne is less than mediocre as an NFL quarterback, but we have one game of brilliance with a mustache, and that is the truth we want.



If you're unfamiliar with the "moutheyes" phenomenon, congratulations: you have until this point avoided some of the darker corners of the internet (you have also not read Nail Gaiman's Sandman, which is unfortunate). Strap in, it goes like this:


Don't bring up moutheyes on the internet. If you say the word, some maniac will conjure it and ruin sleep for everyone else.

(Full disclosure: I am that maniac.)



Hey, remember a month ago? When three players did "Gangnam Style" celebration dances well after the Korean pop hit had passed its peak? Well make room for Lance Moore! Uncle Lance has just learned all about this thing the kids love! It's called Tex messaging, and they do it from little hand-held computers (probably made by Texas Instruments, hence the name). "Really cool, Uncle Lance," we say, backing out of the room.

Don't misconstrue this as distaste for "Gangnam Style" itself. I just watched the video for approximately the twentieth time, and it's still the same wondrous phantasmagoria of tuxedoed gallop-dancing it's always been. (For interested parties, Psy will perform at halftime the Seahawks-Bills game in Toronto with "more than 60 dancers, Buffalo Jills Cheerleaders, and hundreds of contest winners," which is a brilliant way to inflate attendance figures at a Bills game.)

p.s. The YouTube below does not exist, so don't click play. Just scroll down.



Nope, sorry. I'm not impressed by this GIF-bomb. You come at the king, you best not miss. (The king is an old lady in an orange sweater.)



For me, fantasy football creates narratives that are more persistent than truth. In 2010, his second year in the league, Josh Freeman threw 15 touchdowns and just six interceptions. "A-ha!" I said to myself, "I shall draft him in 2011 and be a genius when he emerges as one of the league's best quarterbacks!" In 2011, Freeman sported a 16-22 TD/INT ratio, and because he was on one of my fantasy teams, he became a bad player FOREVER.

This year, Freeman has been one of the best fantasy quarterbacks in the league, with 21 touchdowns and just seven interceptions through 10 games, and OOH I HATE HIM SO MUCH! Ordinarily, I could enjoy the instantaneous physical genius it takes to complete a pass underhanded between a jumping defender's legs, but Freeman committed the unforgivable sin of proving me wrong. Damn you, Freeman!


This week's Watchability Index rates the games by Thanksgiving dishes, and there's a notable exclusion in my analysis: stuffing.

This is where I'll make some enemies: I don't care for stuffing. At its best, it is moist bread that tastes vaguely of turkey, and I'd rather just have more turkey. As carb-heavy side dishes go, I prefer mashed potatoes for their architectural malleability: no Thanksgiving is complete without the construction and subsequent consumption of Gravy Lake.

I just don't really like bread, okay? Leave me alone. More for you.


No. The Jets won decisively in St. Louis last week, and you shouldn't expect a big helping of Tebow on Thanksgiving, either: Mark Sanchez had his best game of the year in Week 7 against the Pats, who have one of the worst passing defenses in the NFL. You'll just have to put Tebow on your Christmas wish list.

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