Ah, back when I was a wee lad, roaming the swampy humid suburbs of central Maryland, I remember I would come home on cool fall days and my mother, bless her soul, would be whipping up a fresh batch of Bust on the stove. The smell of failure would waft through the house, and my father would flutter, as if with wings, up the stairs from his man cave to ask when dinner would be ready. Mother would tell him to hold his horses and father would groan and descend back into his den. That meal of bust would sustain us for 2 nights, filling us up with disappointment and empty calories. These are the days we remember so, many experiences that we shall chase our entire lives just to have that feeling again.

Anyway, to cook the perfect bust, you will need:

-One fat prospect with red flags you can easily ignore
-8 tablespoons of hype
-expectations, to taste
-1 bad head coach, chopped
-1 terrible front office, chilled overnight and then diced
-whatever garbage skill players you have lying in the back of the fridge on the shelf you should have cleaned weeks ago, minced
-1 o-line, soggy and wet, such that it instantly turns mushy
-5 cups of just abysmal playcalling that everyone can see coming
-You may be tempted to add defense to support the prospect, but do not. It will only make the prospect appear tough.
-miracle whip, ample amounts

Place prospect in a large pan of incompetent cheap ownership. Coat the pan with some patience. Some is necessary but the lesser you can get away with the better. Sear the prospect in the fires immediately so that the fringes get irreparably burned. Season the prospect with the hype and expectations and continue to cook over high flame for 17-20 games. If you see any tender, tasty bits, be sure to carefully remove them. Throw the diced front office, bad coach, and bad skill players into the skillet and add more hype. Dump the O-line onto the prospect then, and if you’ve done it correctly, it will simply melt away instantly, exposing the prospect. Finally, dump in liberal amounts of predictable and bad playcalling and miracle whip for taste. Keep that shit on the fire for as long as you can reasonably stand it, until all your neighbors are screaming at you to stop cooking whatever it is you are cooking.

Serves 1-3 seasons, possibly more if stored correctly, but will go sour quickly if left out.

Makes for an excellent Sunday meal with the family!