Gremlin Grill

Yeah, there are a few people out there who still say their barbecue is the best. Not surprisingly, those people also have what is apparently knowledge from God defining what is and what is not barbecue. I call these people “assholes." They’re not worth discussing here.

Most of the barbecue people I know will only say their meat is the best if it’s the best on that day. Grand Champion – that’s the best. First in pork? Best of the day. That’s fair. And it’s true. But I didn’t get on this ramble because of barbecue. It’s sports-spawned. The Bengals’ Robert Geathers’ cheap ass, gutless, “how can I get on Sports Center" hit on Chiefs’ quarterback Trent Green wasn’t the worst ever. Trent’s home now, with a headache, possibly never going to play again, but he’s OK. Not the worst hit ever.

The morons who several months ago said the 2006 Royals were the worst baseball team ever? You were wrong. You were wrong because you’re too lazy to present a valid, thought-out argument. You could have said, “The Royals are awful. Probably one of the worst baseball teams ever." You’d have been fine. You could have said that without doing any research, without making a real effort to make a good argument, and you’d have been OK. But instead, you took a short cut. You’re idiots. But take some solace in knowing that you’re not the biggest idiots ever.

I’m supposed to be writing about barbecue, because this is a barbecue blog. What the hell am I talking about? I’m talking about math. Because, like declaring something “the best," or “the worst," math is absolute. And I hate it.

People used to tell me that math was easy because the answer is always absolute. I told them math was insane because the answer is always absolute. Now English – language, literature, writing, that foofy crap – that’s easy because the answer isn’t absolute. If you can make a believable, well-argued case that Tom and Huck actually hired Becky Thatcher to kill Huck’s pappy with a pool cue, you’ll probably pass. But 2 + 2 = 4. Period.

That in mind, 200 doesn’t equal 225. And while 205 is closer to 225 than 200 is, it’s still not 200. So, if a recipe calls for smoking at 225 degrees, smoking at 200 degrees for more than, say, a few minutes will change the process. Right? Right. And cooking at 200 degrees for a couple few hours, well, that changes everything. But even when those 20 missing degrees don’t result in the worst barbecue ever. And I tied my superlative rant back to barbecue. Johnny, tell him what he's won!

I’m back, my teeth are better, we sucked at Blue Springs, but the pork and brisket that wasn’t quite done at turn-in time finished nicely in my oven, and it’ll be at the Royal. Dig in.