Best of DLS: The George Harrison Prank Fails

We’ve got a wild one today. First up, the chaos day where I wasn’t even here, Mike morphed through characters and somehow convinced himself he swayed the playoff committee, and then later the all‑timer with Spice Adams where we dropped “we got a rap” into the show forever.

Kirsten’s song knocked me back, and Greg, you still don’t know who’s who around here. Why did you look happy when you heard about Jimmy Cliff?

I wasn’t happy; I was stunned, and sometimes I smile at bad news. Jimmy Cliff was my doorway into reggae through The Harder They Come, then I found Marley, Peter Tosh, and Toots—he’s an underrated pillar, and I’m sad he’s gone.

If you’re going to eulogize, write it like a proper Back in My Day; you stopped doing those because they’re hard. You keep saying you don’t pine anymore—sounds like you ran out of things to pine for.

Football’s finally booking acts people care about—think Thanksgiving pregame turning into a real concert, Bad Bunny levels, Jack in Detroit energy, the whole Jay Z vision coming to life.

The halftime’s executive produced by Marshall Mathers, and the first call is Jack White, which means the music’s going to talk even if some folks want politics kept out—cue the culture‑war chorus that loves Jason Aldean and empty slogans.

Greg, do you even know Marshall Mathers? And don’t give me Leave It to Beaver.

Of course I do; I’ve liked Eminem almost as long as the Beatles, who I watched on Ed Sullivan. Don’t test my bona fides.

I had a total brain lock trying to say Wilt Chamberlain, like Inside Out hit the panic button in my head. You can see the moment I realized it was a name I absolutely should know.

Greg, about that knee—you did three rehab sessions and called it a day, right? That bike in the Barbie room has more cobwebs than miles, and you stood the whole game on that un‑rehabbed knee like nothing happened.

I’ll get back on it, but yeah, I’ve slacked. And hearing Adele stitch my “Hello” into a tribute hit me harder than I expected; I was genuinely moved.

Heat talk: two known All‑Stars, and now Norman Powell’s playing like the engine—defense, threes, thirty when needed. If this is the style, are the homers cool with it being Norm’s team when Hero returns?

This offense isn’t a one‑guy show; it’s pace, movement, and reads, which should make Hero slide right in. The old splits without him don’t apply to how they’re playing now.

Powell’s start has been historic here, but can he keep scoring like this all season? He wasn’t projected to be a nightly thirty.

It doesn’t have to belong to anyone; there’s no LeBron here… and I lost my train of thought.

Remember UCF 2017 when Dan grabbed the mic for a team that got stiff‑armed? Same energy—different laundry, same grievance.

About the prank: the audience didn’t catch it for hours, but you insist you clocked Jeremy’s brother right away. You’re still saying you thought it was George Harrison, which somehow makes it worse.

We set up a big payoff, explained it, and Greg’s response was a flat shrug. It’s worrying, man.

The switch was smooth; the crowd only caught on after a bunch of looks, and that’s fine. Know your teammate—you don’t pass Nick Young the ball and expect a swing; you expect a heat check.

Alright, football: Jiu Jiu’s shoulda‑coulda from Sunday—make the chip shot in Arizona, kick the field goal if you’re the Giants, don’t touch a punt rolling to the one. Dallas is drilling punchouts by design, and the Colts turtled while Mahomes erased the gap.

Minnesota bet big on Sam Darnold instead of eating rookie lumps and it’s sinking a strong roster; that stinks. Coaching fear and small errors cost wins every week.

Five starts ago you swore Kevin O’Connell could make any QB work off one hot quarter. He can’t just conjure it on command.

Week one bias had us crowning and dunking—he’s been hurt, and we were wrong. You win this round.

One more thing—someone felt uncomfortable about what went down with the couch in the back. That should go to HR.

Greg didn’t even realize it was happening, which somehow tracks with everything else today.

Stat of the day to land this: Tyler Lockett’s still a blur, but Jaxon Smith‑Njigba’s pacing for the best early season by a Seattle receiver through eleven games.