1. No Show Moreno:
This is your friend who has major reliability issues when it comes to doing anything that doesn’t involve a couch. Laziness is not only forte; it’s the only thing he’s got over the rest of the crew.
As a somewhat bullish dude, “No Show” could definitely be one of the better players if he wanted to–except for the fact that he resists athletic activity to the point where attending the game in the first place becomes an obstacle that’s nearly impossible to overcome.
Gameday Gauge: Will blow off your Turkey Bowl for the overly sentimental ESPN special about “Football in Recession-Time Detroit” prior to the Lions game.
2. Mr. Tradition
It’s not enough to play the game. You also have to establish team names, a trophy, a trophy naming ceremony, a twitter parody account of said trophy, and a postgame trip to the deli where it is required that you all must order the same sandwiches you did last year. And no, it does not matter if you’ve become deathly allergic to ham in the interim.
Gameday Gauge: Barely knows the game is being played, instead smiles ceaselessly at the fact that “we’ll always be friends.”
3. Blue Collar
He’ll go only by his last name, and he’ll get the job done in a way that isn’t really appreciated, but is ultimately responsible for his team’s victory.
He’s a guy who lives for the little things–a timely block, a perfectly executed curl, or a solid second down tackle. He’s all guts, zero glory, and it’s to the point that you're genuinely surprised Dodge hasn't called him up to be their rough-around-the-edges spokesperson.
Gameday Gauge: Talking about how he’s “getting by,” although night classes are kicking his ass.
4. Hungover Hal
The night before Thanksgiving–while tough on everyone–was particularly tough on him. A mid-game vomit is probably the only consistency in his performance from year to year.
Gameday Gauge: Favorite part is by FAR the water breaks, questions every year why the fuck he plays in the first place.
5. Tommy Maddox
You may remember Tommy Maddox as a member of the Pre-Roethlisberger Steelers, but his better claim to fame is being the greatest player in the history of everyone’s favorite nostalgia blast, the XFL.
Just like the LA Xtreme superstar, this is a guy who will thrive in a league plagued by ambiguous rules and lesser skilled players, many of whom would likely fail a drug test. Tommy will likely emerge as the game’s most valuable asset, but would totally get destroyed if he played in that big-time slaughterfest on the other side of the park. They have jerseys and shit.
Gameday Gauge: Enamored by his own talent, he will spend a great deal of time perfecting Gangnam Style prior to the game in hopes making his touchdown celebration feel spontaneous.
6. Mr. Product Placement
Under Armor longsleeves, Riddell wide receiver gloves, and long Nike socks. He’s a marketers dream, and he’s damn proud of it.
Gameday Gauge: Constantly tying his shoes, which are aesthetically challenged wonders that somehow are a fusion of cleats and sneakers.
7. The Playbook
The one kid who didn’t do “Da Bomb” every play on NFL Blitz has taken his talents to the Turkey Bowl. He’ll begin many a huddle with a dramatic essay about how “they’re overplaying the quick slant,” and may even suggest that you guys should do a running play. Of course, there has only been three running plays in the history of the five years you guys have played, and two of them were so that the hardworking (yet extremely unathletic) kid could get a touchdown.
Gameday Gauge: Pointing to his forearm, as if everyone else could follow the random strokes across his eerily protruding veins.
8. The Suddenly Unathletic Guy
Varsity Basketball ceded to varsity “claim that I am really good at flip cup,” meaning that he was always too hungover to make it to the mid-morning weekend bball seshes.
His diet of frozen tacos and overly greasy chicken cutlet sandwiches aren’t doing him any favors either, though the freakish metabolism that comes with his athletic build doesn’t necessarily indicate his bodily struggles. Until now.
Wheezing by the third play, the “2007 Insert Community Leader Who Tragically Died Memorial Tournament” t-shirt he’s wearing is almost an insult to his high school self–the kid that barely drank, and always finished first in gasers.
Gameday Gauge: 5-8 proclamations about “how bad it is” that he’s in this terrible of shape.
9. Wayne Chrebet
This can go two ways. One, that he’s one of the people masquerading as the cultural zeitgeist that is everything 1997, or two, that his talents are sadly overshadowed by the tragic frequency by which he gets injured. He’d be a solid player, except you know you won’t have his talents for more than half the game.
Gameday Gauge: Burying his Charlie Garner jersey in his face, distraught at the fact that his ACL is most definitely torn.
10. The Little Brother
Called upon when there is uneven teams, his initial reticence will slowly morph into a consistent presence. As long as he doesn’t digress too much from his role, he’ll be unabashedly revered by much of the crew–all of whom enjoy vicariously living through his much cooler life stage. The Black Friday ragefest with the older Bros is often a highly entertaining and fruitful experience, as he’ll be subject to many questionable advice nuggets from a rotating cast of inferior beer pong players. .
Gameday Gauge: Getting mostly destroyed by his older brother, save for the one complete ownage of him, which will garner a universal cheer and will be immortalized as the most talked about play for the next three years.