A most sadistic take on five Jay Cutler trade destinations
Jay Cutler: Buffalo Bill?
So Jay Cutler's (probably) getting traded. Fine by me. He's a talented guy, sure, and he's got an arm like a diesel-powered T-shirt gun. But I like my quarterbacks savvy and cerebral and not so damn pouty when things go awry. And while Josh McDaniels has proven to be just as delusional as Cutler in the last few weeks -- how the Dove Valley floor beams supported the weight of those two plus-sized egos is a mystery -- Cutler has pulled out out a narrow victory in the ongoing Smug Assholes I Kinda Want to Punch in the Adam's Apple battle.
So, let's trade his ass. But if we're going to do it, let's take advantage of the teachable moment. Let's make him realize how good he has it here -- a great city, loyal fans, an offensive prodigy as coach, a Pro Bowl-caliber left tackle, a top-five receiver, a weak division, his own T-shirt, and his fat-faced picture on the wall at my favorite Colfax diner. He was on the verge of being a God in a city that takes its deification of quarterbacks quite seriously. And he wants out? Godspeed, my friend. Here's where I hope you end up:
5. Detroit Lions
As cursed as they've been, Cutler to the Lions, who have reportedly expressed interest, actually troubles me a bit. Lions fans seem like the most forgiving in America. Even those guys in paper-bag masks would probably invite Matt Millen over the Thanksgiving if they found out his family had banned him. And the expectations would be so low, Cutler could only be viewed as some kind of sour-faced hero. He'd get to buy a mansion for, like, nine dollars. And he'd throw about 47 touchdowns to Calvin Johnson.
On the bright side, however: He'd have to live in Detroit. And I can live with that.
4. New York Jets
New York might seem like a coup for Cutler: Respected new coach, decent foundation, a strong running game and a go-to receiver. But there are few places I'd rather watch him fail. Because while former Jets coach Eric Mangini was happy (or perhaps urged) to let Brett Favre chuck the ball around the field like a toddler who recently discovered throwing, new coach Rex Ryan would sooner don a fedora than let Cutler deploy his loose cannon like he did here. Which is why I so hope this happens. It won't be Week Six before Cutler's bitching about "opening up the offense," Ryan is staying up late to pop antacids and watch old tape of Kellen Clemens, the editors at the New York Post are having heated debates over the appropriateness of a "JAY CUNT-LER" headline, and the chicks at Scores won't even stop at Cutler's table.
3. Cleveland Browns
As far as payback goes, this would be close to perfect. Because while the Browns may seem on the verge of something decent -- any regime that starts by trading the Poor Man's T.O.®, Kellen Winslow Jr., is fine by me -- the reality is, they're cursed. And theirs is worse than any Bambino or Billy Goat hex. Those are threat-level-blue curses compared to Cleveland's little talked-about Curse of Jim Brown, which states that as long as the Browns keep trotting out a serial woman abuser as the face of the franchise, they'll be haunted by mysterious injuries (Winslow, LeCharles Bentley), the unexplained erosion of talent (Braylon Edwards), and other bad luck, like pedestrians walking in front of the car of your moderately drunk-driving receiver right before workouts start. And since the Browns don't plan on ridding themselves of Jim Brown, Cutler would no doubt fall victim to mysterious arm problems, insulin-meter mechanical issues and a paternity suit by one of the fine lasses down at Christie's Caberet.
All of which is great. The only trouble? I have a hard time wishing Cutler on the fine people of Cleveland. And Brady Quinn's kind of a tool.
2. Oakland Raiders
You know how, when you need to kill some time, to give yourself a pure escape, you imagine what you would do if you won the Super Mega $90 Million Jackpot Lotto, and you get lost in every detail, right down to what color you'd paint your helicopter and which friends would get checks and how many minutes you would stick around before quitting your job? Well, the only fantasy more satisfying to me is imagining Jay Cutler showing up for Raiders training camp, watching a wheel chair-bound Al Davis demonstrate a three-step drop to JaMarcus Russell, and thinking to himself, What the fuck did I just do?
The cool part? Davis is one bad prescription-drug cocktail away from pulling the trigger.
Imagine it: It's the middle of December. They've lost three in a row, including their most recent game, which took place in front of 452 disinterested Canadians. They haven't seen the sun in four months. After a rosy start to the season, T.O.'s been bitching to the media about "opening up the offense," Cutler's been pouting visibly as balls go bounding off of Owens' facemask, and coach Dick Jauron has been seen mixing crushed up Paxil into his morning Gatorade.
Then, one night, it happens. Since there are only nine bars in Buffalo, Cutler and Terrell Owens wind up at the same place. Cutler's with some O-linemen, who think he's kind of a dick but hope he may buy them watches if he hangs out with them. T.O.'s with the three guys he pays to hang out with him. And before you know it, drunk Bills fans are yanking out their iPhones to capture Owens and Cutler face to face, chest to chest, raging insecurity flying into each other's mouth in the form of Red Bull-flavored spittle. The O-Line starts a pool on who will back down first. Owens entourage wonders aloud if this means they won't get paid for the night. And the Bills' season melts away in half the length of a Katy Perry remix.
The next morning, Bills owner Ralph Wilson, reading about the punchless scuffle in his morning Buffalo News, decides to fold the franchise. That afternoon, Buffalo Mayor Byron Brown, with his city reeling from the loss of its beloved Bills, decides to shutter the city, urging everyone to "move to Pittsburgh."
And from that point on, Jay Cutler is known to football fans everywhere as the only quarterback in the history of football to bring down a major American city. It's swift and perfect justice, the only suitable ending to McJaygate.
And did I mention that the Broncos get Trent Edwards and draft picks?
For more on the burgeoning Buffalo-Denver feud, cruise here.