Nothing.

Well, not exactly.  I hope it means nothing – that our Chiefs will be subjected to a playoff-like atmosphere for at least a quarter in Minneapolis tonight, and subsequently wilt under the pressure, which I am predicting they will.

We like to say that the preseason means nothing, but what happens when the offense can’t get out of its own way and Matt Cassel looks like a million dollar mistake??  What happens when the Chiefs D-Line gets man-handled and gives up 20 yard gains to guys not named AP??  What happens when the rookie head coach looks overwhelmed, and his game-plan collapses before halftime??

Normally, nothing.  And normally, it wouldn’t matter.  But we’re not playing in front of a stadium half-filled with lower-level employees of companies who have season ticket packages, but don’t want to give up thier primo tix to the scrubs.  This is the debut of the villain-turned-hero of the upper Midwest; the savior on a purple steed come to magically transform a franchise.  It’s one thing to flop when nobody’s watching.  It’s quite another to do so in front of the world.

Look, anytime you get man-handled during the regular season (and we will…just look at that schedule) it will hurt the staff’s trust in the players, and will damage the staff’s credibility in the locker room.  That happens to bad teams.  But this team doesn’t need that to happen while we’re still in August. 

For this team to be successful in moving on into the future, it is imperative that our new coaches maintain the course, and that they appear to know what they are doing, ie: turning this team into a winner.  Nothing takes the wind out of their sails faster than abject failure. 

There were glimpses of that during the Texans game, but they could be attributed to weather and youth.  This time, we’re playing this game in a dome against a team lead by a 40 year old.  This could be disastrous.

Either that, or it’s preseason, and it doesn’t mean shit.

But, if Favre uncorks a 70 yard bomb for a touchdown and starts running around like some hemorrhoidal 12 year-old redhead…well, let’s just say I know a good place to put Bernard Pollard’s helmet…