Going to training camp

The Pittsburgh Steelers completed their first weekend of training camp as they prepare to defend their Super Bowl XL championship.

Ben Roethlisberger showed up without a protective plastic bubble and participated in regular drills (although he performed the Steelers’ infamous “run test” with a pair of lineman rather than the other backs). Naturally, he was a little rusty, but that’s not really a concern. You’d expect a little rust even if he didn’t take on a two-ton automobile with his face at the intersection of 10th Street and Second Avenue just under two months ago.

It looks like he’ll be ready to go.

The big question, though… Will Joey D be ready to go when the season starts? And I’m not talking about the Steelers season. I can take care of that. That’s cake. The season in question is season two of Fox’s “smash hit,” The War at Home.

In the grand tradition of Bob Braughler’s "I read Leviticus so you don’t have to," I have decided to offer my own series: "I watch The War at Home so you don’t have to."

When Family Guy ended last night (a strong offering with an outstanding montage of Adam West spanking Chris to Alice Cooper's No More Mr. Nice Guy – I'm going to teach you the lesson that it's not okay to be a freshman), The War at Home came galumphing on immediately after like some great dane puppy – an awkward an unseemly beast with no manners and no idea how lucky it is to be in its current home (namely Fox’s sweet Sunday Night Lineup).

Like the dog, it didn’t take long for it to knock over some chairs and knick-knacks, chew the furniture and take a steaming dump on the rug. I could only get through about six minutes before I had to switch over to one of Chappelle’s Show’s Lost Episodes.

Those six agonizing minutes made me realize I have to go to my own version of training camp. If I’m to offer a thorough and insightful breakdown of each episode, not only will I have to watch the show at least once, I’ll probably need to go back over it at least one more time. That’s at least 44 minutes of The War at Home (sans commercials). Last night was like a no-contact drill with just helmets and shoulder pads followed by some light running. And you know what? I was woefully out of shape…

Next week, I vow to make it at least to the second commercial break. Also, to help build my tolerance for truly awful programming, I will watch at least two full syndicated episodes of That 70’s Show as some added conditioning.

Don’t worry, when Fox proudly rolls out the season-opener of The War at Home on September 10th, I’ll be waiting… in a three-point stance… to light that bitch up.