We interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you a public service announcement: the Red Sox owners, general manager, fans and in general everyone having anything to do with Red Sox of any sort, including those who are misguided enough—whether ignorantly or not—to don footwear painted that distasteful color, are a bunch of puling babies. Waa. Waa. Waa.
If there is ever one more cry of “woe is me, the Red Sox aren’t as rich as the Yankees”... if that is ever used as an excuse to make up for the Red Sox pathetic performance in baseball and life in general, the perpetrating puler should be strapped to a chair and forced to watch Bucky Dent’s home run until a neighboring supernova destroys the Terran system.
The Red Sox bid 51.1 MILLION dollars to simply gain the rights to negotiate with that Japanese pitcher whose name I will certainly not attempt to spell but sounds like “Motzuzooka”.
As you have been informed by your columnist many times before, the Red Sox have always been whining babies when it came to money. This latest salvo of proof is simply too strong for the mainstream to ignore. The Red Sox are inferior because they are inferior, not because they don’t have money.
Okay, and now the caged beast that is a Yankee fan residing in your columnist’s scary mental capacity will be knocked out with chloroform while we talk about the NFL.
Analysts and commentators are always attempting to determine which teams will play well, which teams are “superior”, which teams are “a cut above the rest”; said analysts sometimes watch hours of tape (coughjawscough) along the way, doing everything possible to gain the knowledge required to say something insightful.
Well that is just dumb, because at least when it comes to the offense, how well a team will do is quite obvious. Just look at their QBs spiral. Yes. The spiral. To unscientifically prove how easy it is to equate “spiral” with “good offense”, I will now run through a random assortment of the NFL’s QBs’ spirals (wow that was a lot of words ending in “s”), and then explain how well their offense is currently doing.
Now before we get onto the meat of this article, one might wonder why this strange correlation between spiraling and winning exists. Wanna know why? BECAUSE YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO THROW THE BALL WITH A SPIRAL, BEN WORTHLESSBERGER!
We might as well start there:
Big Ben: His spiral is simply non-existent. He doesn’t have a spiral. He chucks the ball up with all the beauty of the New Jersey Turnpike. So, you ask, how did he win a SuperBowl? First off, he didn’t. His defense, along with Carson Palmer’s knee, Nick Harper, and a conspiracy of referees won the Steelers the Super Bowl. But more than that, you do know he was not the only player to throw a football for Pittsburgh in the big game, and that Antwaan Randle El, who threw one pass that game, threw the only TD pass for Pittsburgh, and also that that TD pass was the prettiest thrown pass from a Steeler all day? Yep. That is why they won. Pittsburgh, thank God for Randle El. In a not-so-coincidental coincidence, the Steelers suck this year. Randle El is no longer on their roster. And one of the games they won was thanks to Charlie Batch, who throws a decent spiral.
Peyton Manning: Here’s an easy one. He throws a perfect spiral whenever he wants to. Their offense is nigh unstoppable. They are undefeated. Spiral, baby, spiral. (Disclaimer: The Colts lost after I wrote this, but that doesn't change anything. Their offense is still unbelievable, and they are still the best team in the league.)
Eli Manning: He throws a very good spiral half of the time, and he throws a Ben Worthlessberger the other half. This explains why he looks brilliant some moments, and downright awful at others. The team shares his spiral’s schizophrenia. Coincidence? I think not. Spirals shape the personality of a team way more than coaches do.
Rex Grossman: Absolutely beautiful spiral. Really. It makes perfect sense his team is so dang high scoring and also 9-1. No, their pathetic competition has had nothing to do with it.
Chad Pennington: Look at that spiral. Seeing as he can’t throw it hard or far, all he can do is spiral it. But that is enough to take a bottom feeding team from last year and make them playoff contenders. Oh how odd. Or not, if you ascribe to spiral theory.
Tom Brady: He throws a brilliant spiral. I think this has worked out well for him over the years...
Daunte Culpepper: No spiral in sight. Also, no Culpepper in sight, thanks to his hideous performance.
Donovan McNabb: He does not have the perfect spiral of Peyton or Rex, but he throws a decently tightly wound ball. His team reflects that with a 5-5 record. Of course, now that he is gone, Philly is dead.
Philip Rivers: This man throws one heck of a spiral. Oh yeah, and his team scored 42 points last week. In the second half. And they scored 28 points this week. In the second half.
Andrew Walters: Uh... no need to explain this really.
Jake Plummer: Throws a very mediocre spiral, if it can even be called that. His offense is anemic. Denver is good thanks to their defense. And their defense is good thanks to Champ Bailey. So... they are good thanks to Champ Bailey. I digress.
Steve McNair: He throws a good spiral when he needs to. Not surprisingly, his play and his team reflect this by only playing well when it is absolutely necessary.
Byron Leftwich: He does not really throw a good spiral, even though his throws are still nice looking. Similarly, his team does not really play well, even though their list of names says they should. (By the way, Leftwich, along with various other quarterbacks such as Donovan McNabb, proves that spirals are not exclusively required for a QB to be good—though they do help in that regard—but they tend to reflect the team’s performance even better than the QB’s. Rex Grossman is another example. He isn’t necessarily terrific, but his team is, thank to his beautiful spiraling pigskin)
David Carr: I have no idea. He is never on TV. Who wants to watch the Texans?
Vince Young: Ah... well... he doesn’t throw a particularly good spiral. His team is not particularly good.
Mark Brunell: His spiral used to be good, now he doesn’t have the arm strength left, and his team fell apart, and he is no longer the starting quarterback, and the moral of the story is: quit when you can no longer throw a spiral.
Brett Favre: Okay, his spiral is not very good, and his team reflects it this year, by also being “not very good”. Yet it is worth mentioning that Brett Favre has never thrown very good spirals, and yet he did used to be fantastic… Uh, no this doesn’t wipe out my theory, for two reasons: Brett Favre has always been an interception throwing machine, and also… come on, one exception isn’t that bad.
Drew Bledsoe: We aren’t sure what his spiral looks like. He never throws the ball. He just hangs onto it like it it’s a sack of gold. Or a bomb that will go off as soon as it leaves his hand. Either works.
Tony Romo: Very respectable spiral, I would say, and his team has played well since he started starting. Heh. Started starting, that’s funny, it—nevermind…
Brad Johnson: He was one of the QBs that led to the discovery of this correlation between spiraling and winning. He isn’t mobile, doesn’t have a strong arm, isn’t brilliant in the head, and yet he wins, because he throws spirals. Also, the Vikings have faltered as of late, and Brad’s passing has been very inconsistent. Several of his throws have been bad ones lately. Not sure why, but the results are clear. Loss of spiral=loss of games.
Jake Delhomme: He has a pretty spiral most of the time, and his team is pretty dominating most of the time. Inexplicably, his team lays huge eggs sometimes, and inexplicably, he throws horrible spirals some of the times. Call me crazy, but that appears to be a cow-INC-ee-dince.
Drew Brees: His spiral is very good. Not surprisingly, he has taken a bottom-feeding team to a 6-4 record.
There are plenty of other NFL teams out there, but to once again prove my bias and amazing ability to simply ignore those teams which no one cares about (let’s face it, no one in Seattle reads my column, so they aren’t going to be offended. And if, by chance someone from Seattle is reading this, it is your fault you live out in no man’s land. Get over it).
The fact of the matter is: spirals=points, plain and simple. Boys and girls, ladies and gentlemen, learn how to throw, and your team will progress magnificently.
OSU-UM fails to live up to expectations: The OSU/UM brawl was an extremely good game. As a country, we were completely unready for this, seeing as the vast majority of super-hyped games in the country turn out to be complete jokes. Everyone ready for OSU/*insert punching bag here*?
OSU now has only itself to fear…: Before you faint and accuse me of employing a stupid cliché, fear not. I do not mean OSU only has to worry about its own mistakes; I mean OSU literally only has to worry about a former re-incarnation of itself, the 2002 Buckeyes. That team took on heavily favored, high powered Miami and won anyway. The Buckeyes will most likely face a big underdog in the title game, unless Michigan somehow maintains its grip on #2 when USC and Notre Dame play. Props to Michigan for staying there for now, anyway.
Randy Moss isn’t inspired to play for the Raiders: Uh... duh? Why does anyone care about this? Who the heck *would* be inspired to put their body on the line for that sad joke of a team they have in Oakland. Trade him and be done with it, Oakland.
The Record for the record broken most times in a five year period: Marshall Faulk broke the TDs in a single season record. Then Shaun Alexander broke it. Now, Ladainian Tomlinson has a very good chance to break it. And you thought the home run record was meaningless.
See it, then see it again, then see it again, then see it...: Casino Royale was far better than I expected, and I was expecting a lot. Daniel Craig was brilliant, the scenes were brilliant, the plot was brilliant, the realism was brilliant. Dang. The whole thing was brilliant. See it. Now. I don't care if you have already seen it. Go see it again.
New Feature Coming: Everyone get ready for the Mort Report Retort to appear in ensuing articles. In it, you will get information Chris Mortensen would be proud of, such as "He might play, but then again he might not", and "I don't expect the league to fine him, but it is still a strong possibility", and "the Bears are really hoping Urlacher will be ready to play, because he is a big part of their defense" and "I am pretty sure that there is a chance he could be somewhat healthy sometime in the next few weeks"
I am sure you are salivating.
Holiday Special: This will be the last post for three weeks due to extraneous factors known as holiday vacations, so I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving! Not that I really understand how anyone could have a "Happy Thanksgiving!" while no football is on, but I digress. (Stop it. I know you want to argue with me about the “no football is on”, but do you *really* want to argue? Think about it... keep thinking. Yeah, you came to the correct conclusion. Thank you.)
Monday, November 20, 2006
Monday, November 13, 2006
Odd Situation
Everything about Gary Sheffield’s tenure with the Yankees has been strange, and the ending was no different. When attempting to determine an analogy one could use to illuminate the weirdness of Sheffield’s stay, I can’t come up with anything.
And I am very good at analogies. The only thing I can really come up with is the difficulty explaining to a woman what a kick in the nuts feels like. They will simply never understand; there is no frame of reference to help enumerate the singular pain involved with such a tragedy. Even here, though, the analogy is only detailing the difficulty in explaining, not actually explaining.
First things first, when Sheffield first got to the Yanks, he negotiated his own contract directly with George. That is strange enough, but things would get a whole lot weirder.
After slumping for the first month of his first season—along with all of the other Yankee hitters—Sheffield broke out in a huge way in ’04, eventually coming second in MVP voting. Unfortunately, the Yankees also lost to the Red Sox that year in the ALCS, mostly by virtue of the fact that Mariano Rivera, supposedly the greatest closer of all time (well, he is) couldn’t hold a lead. Twice. So Had Mariano Rivera pitched the way he was supposed to, Sheffield would immediately have been a hero in Yankees lore. He came out of nowhere to be an MVP candidate and lead the Yankees in a sweep past the Red Sox to level the Cards and win the World Series…
Err, oops. They got another hit off Rivera.
After that extremely disappointing outcome, Yankee fans began grumbling about Vladamir Guerrero, the much younger and probably more talented right fielder that the Yankees could have signed. Making matters worse, Guerrero won the MVP award in 2004. Sheffield suddenly seemed second fiddle. Quite literally.
Yet in ’05, Sheffield once again posted large numbers, only to watch the Yankees get out-managed in the playoffs and lose yet again. Of course Sheffield’s hitting line was paltry enough that we won’t mention it, besides saying: he stunk.
Yet no one really noticed any of this, because the focus was, is, and will likely be for some time to come, on one guy: A-Rod. So while Sheffield would continue making politically incorrect comments (good for you, Sheff), A-Rod would continue making only politically correct comments, driving everyone—media, fans, teammates included—crazy.
Sheffield then blew up his wrist in ’06 and was out for almost the entire season, when the Yankees landed Bobby Abreu. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that Bobby Abreu plays the same position as Sheffield, is years younger, and costs more, and has a contract that lasts longer.
Thus the awkward “Sheffield playing first” dynamic was born, and we had to suffer through those endless “oh yeah, I’ll do whatever I need to for the team” comments by Sheffield and the “yeah, he can play first base” comments by the Yankee brass, when everyone knew Sheff did not want to play first and the Yankees didn’t think he could play first. Yet because Torre is in love with veterans (not quite a Joe Morgan syndrome, but still creepy), he played Sheff only to watch him embarrass himself in the playoffs.
Then Sheffield started puling about not being traded, even though he had personally negotiated his own deal with the Yankees, where he neglected to include a no-trade clause. Uh-huh. Can we say no leverage? The Yankees wanted him gone, he wanted to be gone, the whole situation was simply strange, and the Yankees traded him for three good prospects who definitely are not worth Sheffield, but who are worth a disgruntled Sheffield who doesn’t have a position thanks to Abreu.
So if a few balls go this way, Sheff is a Yankee hero who won them a title single-handedly. Since they didn’t, he continues on with wandering enigma status, the crusty old hired gun who may or may not make it through the season.
Yet Yankees fans all owe Sheffield thanks for at least one reason: he let us see that swing for more than two years. Oh, what a swing.
Minor Rants Galore:
I seem to be getting long winded in my minor rants lately, and that must be remedied. Due to the fact that I am an extremist, this will be remedied by an extremely high amount of extremely short rants. Yep.
Stop talking stop talking stop talking stop talking!!: Two words for you. Lou. Holtz.
I’m not blaming it on this, but this is why: What is it with athletes divulging injury information, and then making the claim that they aren’t creating excuses for their poor performance? Why else divulge the info, Troy Smith? And A-Rod.
Is everyone equally bad or good?: One way or another, the parity in the NFL is the result of QBs becoming more evenly matched. Peyton is on another planet, so his team is on another planet. After that, there is no run-away favorite for second best QB (no, TOM BRADY DOES NOT COUNT!!), and there is no runaway favorite for second best team. So whether the QBs are getting better or worse, who knows.
After all, a fluke one year will likely be a fluke the next: Florida was a terrific basketball team last year, and they still are, but the Gators were not the dominant team everyone is now making them out to be. They never played anyone in the NCAA tournament, minus maybe Georgetown, who was one rebound away from an upset. Florida will not repeat. You heard it here.
Pour boiling oil on my head, shoot off all my toes…: Watching NBA basketball is painful right now. The players are showing no emotion, because, well, it isn’t allowed anymore. Can you imagine if the NFL did something stupid like the NBA is currently doing with its 200% increase of technical fouls, or whatever the number is? I mean, imagine if the NFL made it so that quarterbacks couldn’t be tackled. We’d all stop watching, wouldn’t we?
Wouldn’t we?
Stupid Things I heard commentators say this Sunday: “They are playing cover 2, so he doesn’t have any help deep” *insert Joe Buck quote here*
For my first trick, I will play an entire game in one half: Carson Palmer: 20-23, 282 yds, 2 TDs, 0 INTs. First half.
I’m an idiot. Kill me please: Joe Buck and Troy Aikman: “This just shows how difficult it is to make the jump from college to the NFL”. They harped on this all afternoon. That explains why Marques Colston, who was playing in the game they were attempting to commentate, is tearing up the league, and had 100 yds by halftime of the Saints-Steelers game. In case you were wondering, Colston played at Hofstra, a division I-AA school. Yeah, I guess that jump isn’t quite as big?
I insult coaches quite often...: So I’ll give them some props when they do a good job. Both Marty Schottenheimer and Marvin Lewis coached well in the game of the year on Sunday. Marty never got conservative, and allowed his team to overcome a 21 point 3rd quarter deficit. Lewis also never got conservative, despite owning that 21 point lead. This was good because had he been conservative, they would have lost 49-28 instead of almost winning. Of course, both defenses played terrible, and you might want to blame that on the coaches, and perhaps in Lewis’ case, you could. The Chargers however, are without super-all-everything-linebacker Shawne Merriman, and you could tell. They got almost no pressure on Carson Palmer. Anyway, good job by both of those coaches.
This seems oddly familiar: In Tennessee, Steve McNair threw a 4th quarter TD pass to complete a come from behind victory. How man times have those words been said before? This time, though, it ends with a victory for Baltimore. Creeeeeeeeepy.
Joe Nedney watch: Joe Nedney, former kicker for the Titans whom I have... ah... spoke of with displeasure in the past (he blew out his knee or something two years in a row while with the Titans) was 4-4 in field goals for the 49ers, as they won 19-13/ Rob Bironas, the Titans kicker, got a potential game winning field goal blocked. Say it ain't so, Joe.
Spiraling out of control: And for my next trick, I will somehow manage to predict team success based solely on how well a ball spirals.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Power Corrupts!
It is that time of year again. Power Rankings time, at the halfway point! Without further ado, let’s get on with it. If you do not know what Power Rankings are, read the introductory edition of my quarterly Power Rankings. Heck, read it even if you simply haven’t read it, because this edition will most likely be inundated with inside jokes referring to the original installment.
TheSportsRant’s Quarterly NFL Power Rankings
32. Arizona: Five weeks ago, I laughed at the pundits for predicting Arizona’s time would come. Have I been vindicated or what.
31. Houston: Orlando Bloom is still better than David Carusoe. David Carusoe is Arizona.
30. Cleveland: The other day, I heard this from Dick Sutcliff, a guy who should stick to commentating tennis: “The Cleveland Browns are improving every week”. Uhh, by “improving”, he must have meant “getting worse”; there is no other explanation, except maybe that Dick Sutcliff needs to stick to commentating tennis.
29. Detroit: Roy Williams, their up and coming receiver (chances are, if you pick receivers for a hundred years in a row, you will eventually get it right at least once) has as big a mouth as all the other receivers in the league; he says the lions will run the table. Don’t laugh people, it isn’t like the Lions have a record over the past five years of... never mind; you can laugh all you want.
28. Oakland: It seems ridiculous having a team that has not even scored 100 points by the halfway mark ahead of four other teams, but they look better than four other teams. This does not bode well for those four other teams.
27. Miami: Joey Harrington beat the Bears; Daunte Culpepper beat the Titans; what a comparison. Anyway, Sean Salisbury, who is usually not this insane, declared that “all of Daunte’s problems were injury related”; somebody shoot me.
26. San Francisco: The only interesting facet of the game last week involved the fact that Joe Nedney continues to be a productive kicker for San Fran, after years of nothing but injuries with the Titans. Somebody shoot me.
25. Tennessee: Vince Young can’t throw to save his life, but thankfully he has been running to save his life. I have hope for this team down the road.
24. Green Bay: They stink, but they still have Brett Favre (pronounced: FARV). This sounds oddly familiar...
23. Tampa Bay: They have beaten the Eagles. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but I thought I would mention it.
22. Pittsburgh: As bad as they are—and they are bad—I’d still take them in a game against any of the other cellar-dwelling, powder puff, cup-cake, barely-NFL caliber football teams. Man, these Power Rankings still seem strangely repetitive; perhaps I was simply so right the first time around, I could have just copied the original rankings... probably.
21. Minnesota: Brad Johnson does not get paid to run, to throw deep balls, to gun-sling the ball into tight spots... he gets paid to *not* make mistakes, yet he has been making a lot of those lately.
20. Buffalo: They absolutely do not belong anywhere near here. See my previous note on the Rams.
19. St. Louis: Throw the Rams, schizophrenia, and a couple good lines into a barrel and you have an SNL sketch.
18. N.Y. Jets: There is really no reason for them to be this high, at all. No, I’m not plagiarizing myself.
17. Jacksonville: You laughed, but I told you they weren’t that great. Now that they have seemingly thrown their eggs in David Garrard’s basket, they are hopeless.
15. Kansas City: Here we go: Herman Edwards fans are crawling out of the woodwork. This team is lucky.
16. Washington: This is still a strange, strange team. They had a strange, strange ending to their last game—a victory, regardless.
14. Dallas: Uh... what can I say about this team... OH I KNOW!!! Terrell Owens... *insert here*!
13. Philadelphia: I warned everyone that their record was deceiving; it isn’t anymore. Too bad they are still # 13 thanks to the lack of good teams in this league.
12. Seattle: This team ranking twelfth is yet another testament to how few good teams play football.
11. New Orleans: This team still feels like Studio 60. They are good, but will they survive anyway?
10. Carolina: Last time, they were 2-2; now, they are 4-4. All hail Sports Illustrated.
9. Cincinnati: Carson Palmer came back quicker than Daunte Culpepper, and he is fine. Cincinnati isn’t fine, but that has more to do with their kerraaaaaapy defense than his magic arm.
8. New England: Did you know that anything Tom Brady touches turn to gold, that he has never committed a sin, won three Super Bowls by taking the entire opposing defense on 1 against 11, has never thrown a bad pass, has a plan to save the environment while simultaneously increasing energy resources, is on his way to curing all the world’s diseases, and—
Oh, dang; he just threw four interceptions. I guess that puts a thorn into the side of all the morons proclaiming him the greatest QB in the game.
007. Atlanta: If I coached the Falcons, they would be better than they are, but then, if I coached the majority of the teams in this league, they would be better than they are—and if I managed the Yankees, they would be unbeatable. That has absolutely nothing to do with the Falcons, Power Rankings, or football in general, but it is so true I must mention it whenever possible.
6. Denver: Champ Bailey is a sick son of a gun. Unfortunately, that other cornerback they have isn’t, and Peyton proved that readily.
5. San Diego: They lost to Kansas City; that is simply inexcusable, and I hate having them in my top five. Yet I have them there, proving once again how few good teams there are in the NFL.
4. Baltimore: This team is good—nothing spectacular about them (they have an above average D and a below average running game), yet they are good. The fact that a merely “good” team can be #4 in the Power Rankings shows once again...
3. Chicago: They got run over by Ronnie Brown last week, helpless offense of Rex Grossman notwithstanding. And if I managed the Yankees, they would be unbeatable.
3. N.Y. Giants: If they would stop creating hospital bed shortages in America, this team would be crazy-good. Unfortunately, their devastation on defense will likely leave them handicapped beyond deep-playoff-run repair.
1. Indianapolis: Can we all just admit that this is the best regular season team to ever play the game? And can we also admit that Peyton Manning is the best QB in the game, period?
Turn your life around and lose: Is there a worse role model for kids than A.I.? Before I get lambasted for that statement, let me clarify: Allen Iverson is a changed man. He passes the ball, is unselfish, doesn’t spout off stupid comments for the media, and is basically more mature than he used to be, in every facet imaginable. The problem here is: his team now stinks (yeah they started off well, but do not kid yourselves, they are not going anywhere particularly great, unless you consider the lottery “great”). Allen Iverson once contended for championships, when he was a childish, irreverent, conceited ball-hog. Now that he has cleaned up his act, the eighty-one-minus-fivers stink. Now of course, there is no correlation between the two, other than a coincidental simultaneity. Yet if a kid is silly enough to look to NBA players as role models—and most kids are—they are probably silly enough to equate “bad attitude, selfishness” with “winning” based on said evidence.
This is exacerbated by the league’s acute focus on its own superstars. The Heat managed to become champs by taking the regular season off, and letting Dwayne Wade carry the entire team in the playoffs, while the league aided and abetted this behavior the whole way with fouls that made me want to jump in boiling oil. What kind of a message is that? “Yeah kids, be lazy, don’t work hard, then let your superstar win it for you”. Uh, please.
The incredibly ironic thing here is that the NBA is super image-obsessed. The new rules on excessive complaining, the dress code, and the barring of high school players all illuminate the league’s attempt to polish its image. Sure, guys. Worry about what they are wearing while you call fouls in such a way that a disinterested team with one good player in his prime can defeat the team oriented Bulls, the team oriented Nets, the team oriented Pistons, and the team oriented Mavericks, even when at least one of those teams—and probably two—were superior.
The NBA has an image. It goes something like this: “We dress well, we don’t complain, we utterly obliterate the need for teamwork.” Good job, guys.
Tom took ‘em all on!: Prior to last week’s Colts/Patriots game, we were once again inundated by morons telling us how Brady is a superior QB because “he won the big games” against the Colts in the playoffs. Uh, hello? No he didn’t. The Patriots were simply better. Peyton was still twice the QB Brady is, his teams simply weren’t as good. The Patriots defense was far superior, and one of the two years, their running game with Corey Dillon was superior. Not to mention the Patriots had both playoff games at home.
Since then, the tide has turned, and the Colts are now the better team. Yet, ironically, the Patriots still have a better defense and they also have a superior running game. So the only thing making the Colts better is... Peyton Manning. Peyton nearly single-handedly takes a team that would otherwise be mediocre, and makes it the best team in the league. I say almost single-handedly because he does have a terrific offensive line.
Nevertheless, he is the reason the Colts are better than the Patriots now, and Tom Brady simply cannot keep up with Peyton Manning. You saw this the other night. Tom tried to be Peyton and he made a fool of himself, throwing four picks to a shoddy D.
One final note: People continually say Peyton “chokes” in the big games. The last time I checked, “choking” somewhat involves being expected to win. Peyton should never have been expected to beat the Patriots, and he wasn’t, even by most of the idiotic analysts and commentators who litter ESPN with the trash they call “writing”. So he didn’t “choke”, he simply lost to superior teams. The exception to this is last year, when they let a downright mediocre Pittsburgh team wipe them out. There were many reasons for this (terrible coaching, Nick Harper’s pathetic job of evading Roethlisberger, too long of a rest for the Colts), but fine, they lost to an underdog in the playoffs. Once. How many teams haven’t done that at least once?
TheSportsRant’s Quarterly NFL Power Rankings
32. Arizona: Five weeks ago, I laughed at the pundits for predicting Arizona’s time would come. Have I been vindicated or what.
31. Houston: Orlando Bloom is still better than David Carusoe. David Carusoe is Arizona.
30. Cleveland: The other day, I heard this from Dick Sutcliff, a guy who should stick to commentating tennis: “The Cleveland Browns are improving every week”. Uhh, by “improving”, he must have meant “getting worse”; there is no other explanation, except maybe that Dick Sutcliff needs to stick to commentating tennis.
29. Detroit: Roy Williams, their up and coming receiver (chances are, if you pick receivers for a hundred years in a row, you will eventually get it right at least once) has as big a mouth as all the other receivers in the league; he says the lions will run the table. Don’t laugh people, it isn’t like the Lions have a record over the past five years of... never mind; you can laugh all you want.
28. Oakland: It seems ridiculous having a team that has not even scored 100 points by the halfway mark ahead of four other teams, but they look better than four other teams. This does not bode well for those four other teams.
27. Miami: Joey Harrington beat the Bears; Daunte Culpepper beat the Titans; what a comparison. Anyway, Sean Salisbury, who is usually not this insane, declared that “all of Daunte’s problems were injury related”; somebody shoot me.
26. San Francisco: The only interesting facet of the game last week involved the fact that Joe Nedney continues to be a productive kicker for San Fran, after years of nothing but injuries with the Titans. Somebody shoot me.
25. Tennessee: Vince Young can’t throw to save his life, but thankfully he has been running to save his life. I have hope for this team down the road.
24. Green Bay: They stink, but they still have Brett Favre (pronounced: FARV). This sounds oddly familiar...
23. Tampa Bay: They have beaten the Eagles. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but I thought I would mention it.
22. Pittsburgh: As bad as they are—and they are bad—I’d still take them in a game against any of the other cellar-dwelling, powder puff, cup-cake, barely-NFL caliber football teams. Man, these Power Rankings still seem strangely repetitive; perhaps I was simply so right the first time around, I could have just copied the original rankings... probably.
21. Minnesota: Brad Johnson does not get paid to run, to throw deep balls, to gun-sling the ball into tight spots... he gets paid to *not* make mistakes, yet he has been making a lot of those lately.
20. Buffalo: They absolutely do not belong anywhere near here. See my previous note on the Rams.
19. St. Louis: Throw the Rams, schizophrenia, and a couple good lines into a barrel and you have an SNL sketch.
18. N.Y. Jets: There is really no reason for them to be this high, at all. No, I’m not plagiarizing myself.
17. Jacksonville: You laughed, but I told you they weren’t that great. Now that they have seemingly thrown their eggs in David Garrard’s basket, they are hopeless.
15. Kansas City: Here we go: Herman Edwards fans are crawling out of the woodwork. This team is lucky.
16. Washington: This is still a strange, strange team. They had a strange, strange ending to their last game—a victory, regardless.
14. Dallas: Uh... what can I say about this team... OH I KNOW!!! Terrell Owens... *insert here*!
13. Philadelphia: I warned everyone that their record was deceiving; it isn’t anymore. Too bad they are still # 13 thanks to the lack of good teams in this league.
12. Seattle: This team ranking twelfth is yet another testament to how few good teams play football.
11. New Orleans: This team still feels like Studio 60. They are good, but will they survive anyway?
10. Carolina: Last time, they were 2-2; now, they are 4-4. All hail Sports Illustrated.
9. Cincinnati: Carson Palmer came back quicker than Daunte Culpepper, and he is fine. Cincinnati isn’t fine, but that has more to do with their kerraaaaaapy defense than his magic arm.
8. New England: Did you know that anything Tom Brady touches turn to gold, that he has never committed a sin, won three Super Bowls by taking the entire opposing defense on 1 against 11, has never thrown a bad pass, has a plan to save the environment while simultaneously increasing energy resources, is on his way to curing all the world’s diseases, and—
Oh, dang; he just threw four interceptions. I guess that puts a thorn into the side of all the morons proclaiming him the greatest QB in the game.
007. Atlanta: If I coached the Falcons, they would be better than they are, but then, if I coached the majority of the teams in this league, they would be better than they are—and if I managed the Yankees, they would be unbeatable. That has absolutely nothing to do with the Falcons, Power Rankings, or football in general, but it is so true I must mention it whenever possible.
6. Denver: Champ Bailey is a sick son of a gun. Unfortunately, that other cornerback they have isn’t, and Peyton proved that readily.
5. San Diego: They lost to Kansas City; that is simply inexcusable, and I hate having them in my top five. Yet I have them there, proving once again how few good teams there are in the NFL.
4. Baltimore: This team is good—nothing spectacular about them (they have an above average D and a below average running game), yet they are good. The fact that a merely “good” team can be #4 in the Power Rankings shows once again...
3. Chicago: They got run over by Ronnie Brown last week, helpless offense of Rex Grossman notwithstanding. And if I managed the Yankees, they would be unbeatable.
3. N.Y. Giants: If they would stop creating hospital bed shortages in America, this team would be crazy-good. Unfortunately, their devastation on defense will likely leave them handicapped beyond deep-playoff-run repair.
1. Indianapolis: Can we all just admit that this is the best regular season team to ever play the game? And can we also admit that Peyton Manning is the best QB in the game, period?
Turn your life around and lose: Is there a worse role model for kids than A.I.? Before I get lambasted for that statement, let me clarify: Allen Iverson is a changed man. He passes the ball, is unselfish, doesn’t spout off stupid comments for the media, and is basically more mature than he used to be, in every facet imaginable. The problem here is: his team now stinks (yeah they started off well, but do not kid yourselves, they are not going anywhere particularly great, unless you consider the lottery “great”). Allen Iverson once contended for championships, when he was a childish, irreverent, conceited ball-hog. Now that he has cleaned up his act, the eighty-one-minus-fivers stink. Now of course, there is no correlation between the two, other than a coincidental simultaneity. Yet if a kid is silly enough to look to NBA players as role models—and most kids are—they are probably silly enough to equate “bad attitude, selfishness” with “winning” based on said evidence.
This is exacerbated by the league’s acute focus on its own superstars. The Heat managed to become champs by taking the regular season off, and letting Dwayne Wade carry the entire team in the playoffs, while the league aided and abetted this behavior the whole way with fouls that made me want to jump in boiling oil. What kind of a message is that? “Yeah kids, be lazy, don’t work hard, then let your superstar win it for you”. Uh, please.
The incredibly ironic thing here is that the NBA is super image-obsessed. The new rules on excessive complaining, the dress code, and the barring of high school players all illuminate the league’s attempt to polish its image. Sure, guys. Worry about what they are wearing while you call fouls in such a way that a disinterested team with one good player in his prime can defeat the team oriented Bulls, the team oriented Nets, the team oriented Pistons, and the team oriented Mavericks, even when at least one of those teams—and probably two—were superior.
The NBA has an image. It goes something like this: “We dress well, we don’t complain, we utterly obliterate the need for teamwork.” Good job, guys.
Tom took ‘em all on!: Prior to last week’s Colts/Patriots game, we were once again inundated by morons telling us how Brady is a superior QB because “he won the big games” against the Colts in the playoffs. Uh, hello? No he didn’t. The Patriots were simply better. Peyton was still twice the QB Brady is, his teams simply weren’t as good. The Patriots defense was far superior, and one of the two years, their running game with Corey Dillon was superior. Not to mention the Patriots had both playoff games at home.
Since then, the tide has turned, and the Colts are now the better team. Yet, ironically, the Patriots still have a better defense and they also have a superior running game. So the only thing making the Colts better is... Peyton Manning. Peyton nearly single-handedly takes a team that would otherwise be mediocre, and makes it the best team in the league. I say almost single-handedly because he does have a terrific offensive line.
Nevertheless, he is the reason the Colts are better than the Patriots now, and Tom Brady simply cannot keep up with Peyton Manning. You saw this the other night. Tom tried to be Peyton and he made a fool of himself, throwing four picks to a shoddy D.
One final note: People continually say Peyton “chokes” in the big games. The last time I checked, “choking” somewhat involves being expected to win. Peyton should never have been expected to beat the Patriots, and he wasn’t, even by most of the idiotic analysts and commentators who litter ESPN with the trash they call “writing”. So he didn’t “choke”, he simply lost to superior teams. The exception to this is last year, when they let a downright mediocre Pittsburgh team wipe them out. There were many reasons for this (terrible coaching, Nick Harper’s pathetic job of evading Roethlisberger, too long of a rest for the Colts), but fine, they lost to an underdog in the playoffs. Once. How many teams haven’t done that at least once?
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Toughts of a showering Sports fanatic...
Basketball preview a few days late and a few paragraphs short: Before the basketball season gets too far in for credibility with predictions, I will declare my opinions quite vaguely and ambiguously, in such a way that they can be interpreted extremely loosely, so that I can pretend to be a genius at season’s end no matter what transpires (season’s end, by the way, is next June. Yeah, it is that freaking long).
San Antonio will surprise everyone this year because despite incredible success in recent years, people still do not believe in this team.
Phoenix is not going to be as good as everyone thought. Amare looks timid, and Steve Nash isn’t getting younger. And they treat defense the same way the A’s treat hitting. (For those who missed by baseball preview article—later marred by cheating pitchers, horrible managers, and fluky World Series victors—that means they treat defense like raw chicken covered in an unknown white powder wrapped in spinach).
Dallas is dang good. Too bad the conspiratorial league doesn’t like “good” teams, but rather superstars, of whom the Mavs are tastefully lacking in. (By the way, this only further proves how good the Spurs are. They manage to win even when the entire league is rooting--and conspiring--for them to lose due to their own tasteful lack of superstars).
Those three teams are the only ones that *really* matter in the West. Plenty of teams are good… but not that good. Except maybe that one team…
And in the East:
Miami will definitely not repeat. And by “definitely” I mean “maybe, pending the decision of the league’s conspiratorial council regarding the feasibility of incrasing the fouls called for Dwayne Wade while pretending to maintain some degree of believability”.
Detroit will be much worse than people realize. They weren’t as good as they looked last regular season, and now they are even worse. Losing Larry Brown finished them. Flip Saunders=not good.
Chicago is now my rooting interest. In a somewhat strange, cyclical allusion to my younger days (who didn’t root for MJ?), I am now rooting for Chicago. I like to root for a team in the NBA that has a chance to do great things, but is not there yet, plays defense, and lacks superstars. Chicago fills those qualities perfectly, much the same way Detroit did in ’03, when my rooting took them to the finals and beat the living crap out of the Lakers. I am not predicting that for Chicago (they don’t have Larry Brown) but I know you were simply dying to be aware of my rooting interests.
Lebron will not equal his statistical magnificence of last year, or, if he does, it will hurt the Cavs.
But does any team from this conference have a chance at winning anyway?
The NBA is the best place to find state-of-the-art (what does that mean anyway?) tanks: I refer, of course, to the king, King James. He is amazing, but after watching him for three years (which seems like a thousand, probably because I could recognize his high school highlights quicker than most pro players highlights), he seems to be built for the new NBA—the one where bullying and raw strength are the norm.
Call me crazy, but I remember a time when skill and speed and agility and a 15 foot jumper made you a superstar, not the brutish, troll-like strength of Lebron. You don’t expect him to blow by anyone. You expect him to blow them up. I can just imagine a conversation between Michael Jordan and Lebron.
Michael: So, you like crossing over to your right or your left?
Lebron: Crossing over? What?
Michael: You know, changing directions to get by someone.
Lebron: Get by them? Heck, that isn’t what I do! I go through them!
If you watch Lebron, he has the following attributes: amazing court vision, extremely good passing, the ability to bull-rush through the lane, a decent jump shot. Besides the passing (which he is inordinately skilled with), these are not the attributes of the star of yesteryear. In the former NBA (where running into your opponent was called charging, not blocking), I don’t know if Lebron would be as good. He doesn’t seem to have the ability to cleanly dribble the ball around someone. He just takes them out.
None of this is knocking Lebron’s talent. For one thing, he might learn to shoot someday (MJ did not have that never-miss fade-away as soon as he entered the league), for another, his passing is unmatched, and finally, he *is* built for today’s NBA, so the question of whether he would have made it years back is Platonic. Yet strangely relevant. Do you get the same satisfaction watching him blitzkrieg his way to the rim as you do when Kobe’s silky smooth moves have him dunking untouched? No, you don’t.
Lebron is amazing, and he will likely only get better. But the legacy of the NBA is dead, if Lebron carries it. He does not continue on in Michael’s tradition, or Magic’s tradition, or Larry’s tradition. He is his own breed, a new type of NBA tank, where you either get out of his way or get called for a block while he moves you out of his way. Watching him is watching greatness, but it is not particularly enjoyable.
You see, that pass is like this lateral incision, and…: In a recent article on ESPN.com, John Clayton gave his usual preview of the week’s ten best NFL games. In his musing regarding the Indy/NE game, he mentioned that “watching Peyton Manning (carve up the Denver defense) was like watching a surgeon operate”.
This is a phrase used constantly by ESPN analysts and writers; TheSportsRant wants to know why. Why does anyone ever use this phrase? John Clayton is by far the best NFL writer that ESPN has. His articles are always informative, well written, and yet not so stodgy as to drain all enjoyment from the pages. They are quick yet have depth. Still, what is he doing using this line?
The big question here is: Who the heck has ever seen a surgeon operate? The only people who are in the room while surgery is being undertaken are the surgeon (plus assistants) and patients. The patients sure as heck are not analyzing the surgery while overdosing on novocaine, and the surgeons perform surgeries because it is their job. They are hardly going to be impressed by simply yet another operation. So why is it “impressive” that Peyton Manning operates like a surgeon? How does a surgeon even operate? Precisely, I assume, and that is where the phrase comes from. But even ignoring the total over-usage of the phrase, it never really belonged in the first place. We use metaphors to help explain things, usually. They aren’t meant to cloud things in doubt. Yet, I would be far more educated by this phrase:
“Watching a surgeon operate is like watching Peyton Manning carve up defenses”.
Wouldn’t you?
The name is Bond. Ian Fleming's Bond: James Bond was never meant to be, at least in the form he appears to us today. The author of the original 007 novels intended for Bond to be a somewhat roughly edged, alcoholic killer with an ironic distaste for killing. The super suave, in-control Bond we know is a movie creation, not Ian Fleming’s creation. Apparently, the upcoming "Casino Royale" is returning Bond to his creator’s imagination.
This is not entirely horrible. The movie looks promising, if somewhat strange in the liberties it assumes with the timeline (the car, the gun, the M are all wrong). What is odd is that they decided to move Bond in an entirely new direction, when he really only needed a good kick in the pants to get back to normal.
It is no secret that Die Another Day was the Arizona Cardinals of the Bond franchise. That movie was horrible. The plot stunk, the acting was not very good, the special effects were mediocre…
Yet Bond films have survived such before (One word: Moonraker). The real problem with Die Another Day was the car. It cloaked. Yes. It cloaked. The moment I saw that car cloak, I knew the movie was done. Finished. Over. Useless. Playing out the string. As Newsweek noted in its recent article on prequels, there are moments in a franchise when you know it is in trouble, and the cloaking car was it.
Yet did one evanescent car ruin the entire series? Of course not. Get a better script, better acting, make the movie a bit grislier, and throw in some classic Bondism where he makes fun of an enemy installation by saying something like “what’s it going to do, disappear?” in order to acknowledge to fan and critic alike that everyone knows the stupid car was a big mistake. Problem solved.
I hold out hope for a terrific Bond flick. Still, it seems an overreaction to say the least.
And this is why North Carolina wants him?: Rich Rodriguez, head football coach of WVU, is purportedly being pursed for the head coaching position at UNC. Now beyond the obvious “why would he want to go there” question (he has a team that will contend for BCS bowls for at least one more season, and UNC is in the dumpster), the other question is: why would they want him? As evidenced by WVU’s loss to Louisville, Rodriguez is not a good coach. He had the best team on the field, without question, yet his team was hardly in the game.
He refused to pass. Pat White was easily capable of picking apart the Lousiville defense (which threw 8 or 9 men into the box consistently), yet Rich did not pass. He didn’t have to go pass whacky, but maintaining some type of balance would, if nothing else, make the running lanes open a bit more.
Not to mention their horrible defense, and copious amount of turnovers, both of which are extremely coaching related. Hopefully for WVU, he takes the UNC job.
San Antonio will surprise everyone this year because despite incredible success in recent years, people still do not believe in this team.
Phoenix is not going to be as good as everyone thought. Amare looks timid, and Steve Nash isn’t getting younger. And they treat defense the same way the A’s treat hitting. (For those who missed by baseball preview article—later marred by cheating pitchers, horrible managers, and fluky World Series victors—that means they treat defense like raw chicken covered in an unknown white powder wrapped in spinach).
Dallas is dang good. Too bad the conspiratorial league doesn’t like “good” teams, but rather superstars, of whom the Mavs are tastefully lacking in. (By the way, this only further proves how good the Spurs are. They manage to win even when the entire league is rooting--and conspiring--for them to lose due to their own tasteful lack of superstars).
Those three teams are the only ones that *really* matter in the West. Plenty of teams are good… but not that good. Except maybe that one team…
And in the East:
Miami will definitely not repeat. And by “definitely” I mean “maybe, pending the decision of the league’s conspiratorial council regarding the feasibility of incrasing the fouls called for Dwayne Wade while pretending to maintain some degree of believability”.
Detroit will be much worse than people realize. They weren’t as good as they looked last regular season, and now they are even worse. Losing Larry Brown finished them. Flip Saunders=not good.
Chicago is now my rooting interest. In a somewhat strange, cyclical allusion to my younger days (who didn’t root for MJ?), I am now rooting for Chicago. I like to root for a team in the NBA that has a chance to do great things, but is not there yet, plays defense, and lacks superstars. Chicago fills those qualities perfectly, much the same way Detroit did in ’03, when my rooting took them to the finals and beat the living crap out of the Lakers. I am not predicting that for Chicago (they don’t have Larry Brown) but I know you were simply dying to be aware of my rooting interests.
Lebron will not equal his statistical magnificence of last year, or, if he does, it will hurt the Cavs.
But does any team from this conference have a chance at winning anyway?
The NBA is the best place to find state-of-the-art (what does that mean anyway?) tanks: I refer, of course, to the king, King James. He is amazing, but after watching him for three years (which seems like a thousand, probably because I could recognize his high school highlights quicker than most pro players highlights), he seems to be built for the new NBA—the one where bullying and raw strength are the norm.
Call me crazy, but I remember a time when skill and speed and agility and a 15 foot jumper made you a superstar, not the brutish, troll-like strength of Lebron. You don’t expect him to blow by anyone. You expect him to blow them up. I can just imagine a conversation between Michael Jordan and Lebron.
Michael: So, you like crossing over to your right or your left?
Lebron: Crossing over? What?
Michael: You know, changing directions to get by someone.
Lebron: Get by them? Heck, that isn’t what I do! I go through them!
If you watch Lebron, he has the following attributes: amazing court vision, extremely good passing, the ability to bull-rush through the lane, a decent jump shot. Besides the passing (which he is inordinately skilled with), these are not the attributes of the star of yesteryear. In the former NBA (where running into your opponent was called charging, not blocking), I don’t know if Lebron would be as good. He doesn’t seem to have the ability to cleanly dribble the ball around someone. He just takes them out.
None of this is knocking Lebron’s talent. For one thing, he might learn to shoot someday (MJ did not have that never-miss fade-away as soon as he entered the league), for another, his passing is unmatched, and finally, he *is* built for today’s NBA, so the question of whether he would have made it years back is Platonic. Yet strangely relevant. Do you get the same satisfaction watching him blitzkrieg his way to the rim as you do when Kobe’s silky smooth moves have him dunking untouched? No, you don’t.
Lebron is amazing, and he will likely only get better. But the legacy of the NBA is dead, if Lebron carries it. He does not continue on in Michael’s tradition, or Magic’s tradition, or Larry’s tradition. He is his own breed, a new type of NBA tank, where you either get out of his way or get called for a block while he moves you out of his way. Watching him is watching greatness, but it is not particularly enjoyable.
You see, that pass is like this lateral incision, and…: In a recent article on ESPN.com, John Clayton gave his usual preview of the week’s ten best NFL games. In his musing regarding the Indy/NE game, he mentioned that “watching Peyton Manning (carve up the Denver defense) was like watching a surgeon operate”.
This is a phrase used constantly by ESPN analysts and writers; TheSportsRant wants to know why. Why does anyone ever use this phrase? John Clayton is by far the best NFL writer that ESPN has. His articles are always informative, well written, and yet not so stodgy as to drain all enjoyment from the pages. They are quick yet have depth. Still, what is he doing using this line?
The big question here is: Who the heck has ever seen a surgeon operate? The only people who are in the room while surgery is being undertaken are the surgeon (plus assistants) and patients. The patients sure as heck are not analyzing the surgery while overdosing on novocaine, and the surgeons perform surgeries because it is their job. They are hardly going to be impressed by simply yet another operation. So why is it “impressive” that Peyton Manning operates like a surgeon? How does a surgeon even operate? Precisely, I assume, and that is where the phrase comes from. But even ignoring the total over-usage of the phrase, it never really belonged in the first place. We use metaphors to help explain things, usually. They aren’t meant to cloud things in doubt. Yet, I would be far more educated by this phrase:
“Watching a surgeon operate is like watching Peyton Manning carve up defenses”.
Wouldn’t you?
The name is Bond. Ian Fleming's Bond: James Bond was never meant to be, at least in the form he appears to us today. The author of the original 007 novels intended for Bond to be a somewhat roughly edged, alcoholic killer with an ironic distaste for killing. The super suave, in-control Bond we know is a movie creation, not Ian Fleming’s creation. Apparently, the upcoming "Casino Royale" is returning Bond to his creator’s imagination.
This is not entirely horrible. The movie looks promising, if somewhat strange in the liberties it assumes with the timeline (the car, the gun, the M are all wrong). What is odd is that they decided to move Bond in an entirely new direction, when he really only needed a good kick in the pants to get back to normal.
It is no secret that Die Another Day was the Arizona Cardinals of the Bond franchise. That movie was horrible. The plot stunk, the acting was not very good, the special effects were mediocre…
Yet Bond films have survived such before (One word: Moonraker). The real problem with Die Another Day was the car. It cloaked. Yes. It cloaked. The moment I saw that car cloak, I knew the movie was done. Finished. Over. Useless. Playing out the string. As Newsweek noted in its recent article on prequels, there are moments in a franchise when you know it is in trouble, and the cloaking car was it.
Yet did one evanescent car ruin the entire series? Of course not. Get a better script, better acting, make the movie a bit grislier, and throw in some classic Bondism where he makes fun of an enemy installation by saying something like “what’s it going to do, disappear?” in order to acknowledge to fan and critic alike that everyone knows the stupid car was a big mistake. Problem solved.
I hold out hope for a terrific Bond flick. Still, it seems an overreaction to say the least.
And this is why North Carolina wants him?: Rich Rodriguez, head football coach of WVU, is purportedly being pursed for the head coaching position at UNC. Now beyond the obvious “why would he want to go there” question (he has a team that will contend for BCS bowls for at least one more season, and UNC is in the dumpster), the other question is: why would they want him? As evidenced by WVU’s loss to Louisville, Rodriguez is not a good coach. He had the best team on the field, without question, yet his team was hardly in the game.
He refused to pass. Pat White was easily capable of picking apart the Lousiville defense (which threw 8 or 9 men into the box consistently), yet Rich did not pass. He didn’t have to go pass whacky, but maintaining some type of balance would, if nothing else, make the running lanes open a bit more.
Not to mention their horrible defense, and copious amount of turnovers, both of which are extremely coaching related. Hopefully for WVU, he takes the UNC job.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Season-After Syndrome
The Ravens—and everyone else—continue waiting for Jamal Lewis to “return to form”.
Don’t hold your breath.
He gained 2,066 yards on 387 carries in 2003. That is a lot of yards. So many in fact, that he joined an elite group of only five backs who had ever rushed for 2,000 yards. The rest of the group is filled by guys with names like “Sanders”, “Dickerson” and “Simpson”.
Jamal Lewis was never was as good as them, but by carrying the ball 387 times in one year, he all but guaranteed himself he would never even be good again.
Since his breakout 2003 season, he has rushed for less than 1,900 total yards, his season high coming when he barely cracked 1,000 in 2004. This is not because he is a terrible running back. He was decent, though not spectacular. Think of a 1250 on your SAT. The reasons for his running demise are obvious, and I can count them. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,... 387.
Running backs simply do not come back from that type of punishing anymore. I don’t know if they ever did, but in today’s NFL, where murderous safeties, assassin linebackers, and 350 lb defensive lineman are the norm... it does not happen. Let us look at a few of those unfortunate players who ran for 2,000 yards in a season, or made an inordinate amount of carries, usually approaching or surpassing 400. These are all from 1980 or later.
Eric Dickerson: This guy was simply strange. I start out with him to somewhat remove an odd exception. He isn’t exactly an exception to the “season after” rule, but he had a roller coaster career. The all-time single season rushing leader had his big season in 1984, rushing for over 2100 yards on nearly 400 carries. The “Season after” was what you would expect from him. His carries decreased, his starts decreased, and he only ran for 1300 yards. Then, he took on even more carries in ‘86, got 1800 yards, and then... he was pretty much done. He averaged 880 yards a season until 1993, when he played only four games. So Dickerson avoided the model somewhat, by having one terrific season after his 2,000 yard escapade, and having another great one later on (sandwiched between half a dozen lousy ones), but the next examples are no so fortunate.
Terrell Davis: He had a monstrous year in 1998, rushing 392 times for 2008 yards (not to mention he also carried the Broncos through the playoffs). His next four years: 211, 282, 701, retirement. He is exactly what one would expect from a running back taking on that many carries.
Jamal Anderson: He did not reach 2,000 yards in 1999, but it certainly was not because they failed to give him the ball. He carried it 410 (!) times. Needless to say, his next season was ruined by injuries, and after three years he was done.
Jamal Lewis: Well you know what happened to him.
Now, there are those two anomalous 2,000 yard runners, Barry Sanders and O.J. Simpson. Both of them played great even after their 2,000 yard seasons, though Barry did retire after one more season (certainly wasn't because he was falling off! See below). What people don’t realize is that they got as many yards as the others, but did it by barely scratching 300 attempts! O.J. carried the ball 332 times for 2003 yards. Barry carried it 335 times for 2053 yards. They both gained their massive totals on significantly fewer attempts than the other members of the 2,000 yard club. They survived, because they got their 2,000 yards by averaging over six yards a carry, instead of simply running for two and falling over for another two, 400+ times.
The running back is a short-lived commodity, obviously. The pounding they take usually necessitates early retirement. Throw in a 2,000 yard, 400 carry season, and they are commentating games even sooner than expected.
The “Season after” syndrome does not only apply to running backs, however. Adrian Beltre is a strong example of a player who will never regain his “previous form”, simply because his “previous form” is most likely the six seasons of mediocrity, and not the one superb outing he showcased.
It also engulfs fluke championship winners, such as the Pittsburgh Steelers and Miami Heat. The Steelers are going nowhere this year, thanks to the fact that their improbable run to the Super Bowl last year was due to a shredded knee, a bad tackle, and bad officiating. Now that everyone expects them to do well (myself being excluded from “everyone”, of course), they aren’t. The Heat won last year by taking off the regular season and then letting Dwayne Wade get fouled in the postseason. This year, the whole team knows that can be done, so when Pat Riley is attempting to convince his team that taking off the regular season while staring at Dwayne Wade taking a team 1 on 5 does not work, they can point to last season and say “oh yes it does work!”
Since that did not seem like a good way to end this article, let me simply give you a link to Barry Sanders’ career numbers. I do not know if there has ever been a more consistently fantastic player. Jim Brown, maybe? No matter what, it is a two or three person list. Remember also, that Barry Sanders did this despite the fact that everyone knew he was Detroit’s only serious threat most of the time. Stare in awe, people, stare in awe.
GAAAHHH: Bill Simmons has long held a position of loftiness in my regard due to his amazing ability to discuss *exactly* what I had been complaining, praising, or talking about in days recent. This time, though, it is almost creepy. I mean... Joe-Morgan’s-incessant-Pujols-loving type of creepy. I wrote this in an article a few weeks back:
“On a related note, Chris Berman has got to be stopped. If he injects one more “oh by the way” into a spot where it simply does not fit, he needs to be shot. He’s an okay guy, and besides his incessant “back-back-back-back” (which starts to sound more like a chicken than a home run call), I don’t think he is a bad commentator. But his squeezing, twisting and forcing of “oh by the way” into these spots is sort of like that guy who has obviously never cursed in his life, wants to be “cool”, so he starts dropping f-bombs in all the wrong places, and sounds far more like a moron than he would have had he kept his mouth clean.”
Recently, I had decided to write an addendum to this, pointing out that while Chris Berman is the largest perpetrator, nearly every ESPN anchor/commentator/analyst was using this phrase like beer at a frat party. Of course... Bill Simmons beat me to it.
“(Important note No. 2: I will now be incorporating "andohbytheway" into my columns as mandated by the new company-wide policy that all ESPN personalities must say the phrase "andohbytheway" as much as possible. Andohbytheway, I'm not a big fan of this policy.)”
This is amazing. If Simmons, every once in a while, wrote about something I had thought, discussed or vaguely mused upon, that would be normal. After all, most people can associate with a guy who writes from the standpoint of a fan. In fact, if he wrote things all the time that I think about, discuss, or vaguely muse, it would be merely coincidental. But everything he freaking writes about, I have already thought, said or vaguely mused! He is either stupidly good at writing what the fan thinks (unlikely), or he is an alien with telepathic abilities (more likely). There aren’t any ways around it, people.
Decision Making: Brad Johnson made some horrible decisions last Monday, throwing the game away in the first quarter with two horrific interceptions. They were so horrific that it made me realize that 99% of the interceptions we see thrown aren’t that bad. There are Daunte Culpepper interceptions—i.e. his INT against Buffalo earlier this year—which are painful to watch, and then there are the rest, which are simply slightly misthrown passes. The thing here that is strange is that we usually say “oh what a stupid throw” or something along those lines. Yet, the difference between one of those brilliant Peyton Manning touchdowns, and one of those status quo Joey Harrington interceptions, is... about a foot. No one claims Peyton made a “stupid throw” when he perfectly shreds double coverage. When J.P. Losman does it, however, he was making a stupid decision. In reality, he simply cannot throw the ball as well as Peyton. Had the throw been on the money, we would all be lauding it as a terrific strike.
Along Those Lines: We need to begin charging receivers with INTs when the ball was perfectly thrown. How many times, last week alone, did QBs hit their receivers in the hands or chest, have the ball bounce off, right into a defender’s waiting arms, on his way to touching down? Many a time, to answer my own question. The QB does nothing wrong, yet his passer rating is dropped, and he gets another one of those ugly “INT”s on his resume. Same thing with dropped balls. The QB is supposed to throw it where the receiver can catch it, yet if the receiver drops it... the QB takes the stat hit. This makes no sense. If they can judge everything else—tackles, errors, etc.—they can freaking judge this. If the ball is perfectly thrown and the receiver simply *drops* it, the incompletion and/or interception should not be charged to the QB. It is that simple. They already use "drops" as a statistic, yet the QB is still penalized for an “incompletion”. That is simply hypocritical.
Don’t hold your breath.
He gained 2,066 yards on 387 carries in 2003. That is a lot of yards. So many in fact, that he joined an elite group of only five backs who had ever rushed for 2,000 yards. The rest of the group is filled by guys with names like “Sanders”, “Dickerson” and “Simpson”.
Jamal Lewis was never was as good as them, but by carrying the ball 387 times in one year, he all but guaranteed himself he would never even be good again.
Since his breakout 2003 season, he has rushed for less than 1,900 total yards, his season high coming when he barely cracked 1,000 in 2004. This is not because he is a terrible running back. He was decent, though not spectacular. Think of a 1250 on your SAT. The reasons for his running demise are obvious, and I can count them. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,... 387.
Running backs simply do not come back from that type of punishing anymore. I don’t know if they ever did, but in today’s NFL, where murderous safeties, assassin linebackers, and 350 lb defensive lineman are the norm... it does not happen. Let us look at a few of those unfortunate players who ran for 2,000 yards in a season, or made an inordinate amount of carries, usually approaching or surpassing 400. These are all from 1980 or later.
Eric Dickerson: This guy was simply strange. I start out with him to somewhat remove an odd exception. He isn’t exactly an exception to the “season after” rule, but he had a roller coaster career. The all-time single season rushing leader had his big season in 1984, rushing for over 2100 yards on nearly 400 carries. The “Season after” was what you would expect from him. His carries decreased, his starts decreased, and he only ran for 1300 yards. Then, he took on even more carries in ‘86, got 1800 yards, and then... he was pretty much done. He averaged 880 yards a season until 1993, when he played only four games. So Dickerson avoided the model somewhat, by having one terrific season after his 2,000 yard escapade, and having another great one later on (sandwiched between half a dozen lousy ones), but the next examples are no so fortunate.
Terrell Davis: He had a monstrous year in 1998, rushing 392 times for 2008 yards (not to mention he also carried the Broncos through the playoffs). His next four years: 211, 282, 701, retirement. He is exactly what one would expect from a running back taking on that many carries.
Jamal Anderson: He did not reach 2,000 yards in 1999, but it certainly was not because they failed to give him the ball. He carried it 410 (!) times. Needless to say, his next season was ruined by injuries, and after three years he was done.
Jamal Lewis: Well you know what happened to him.
Now, there are those two anomalous 2,000 yard runners, Barry Sanders and O.J. Simpson. Both of them played great even after their 2,000 yard seasons, though Barry did retire after one more season (certainly wasn't because he was falling off! See below). What people don’t realize is that they got as many yards as the others, but did it by barely scratching 300 attempts! O.J. carried the ball 332 times for 2003 yards. Barry carried it 335 times for 2053 yards. They both gained their massive totals on significantly fewer attempts than the other members of the 2,000 yard club. They survived, because they got their 2,000 yards by averaging over six yards a carry, instead of simply running for two and falling over for another two, 400+ times.
The running back is a short-lived commodity, obviously. The pounding they take usually necessitates early retirement. Throw in a 2,000 yard, 400 carry season, and they are commentating games even sooner than expected.
The “Season after” syndrome does not only apply to running backs, however. Adrian Beltre is a strong example of a player who will never regain his “previous form”, simply because his “previous form” is most likely the six seasons of mediocrity, and not the one superb outing he showcased.
It also engulfs fluke championship winners, such as the Pittsburgh Steelers and Miami Heat. The Steelers are going nowhere this year, thanks to the fact that their improbable run to the Super Bowl last year was due to a shredded knee, a bad tackle, and bad officiating. Now that everyone expects them to do well (myself being excluded from “everyone”, of course), they aren’t. The Heat won last year by taking off the regular season and then letting Dwayne Wade get fouled in the postseason. This year, the whole team knows that can be done, so when Pat Riley is attempting to convince his team that taking off the regular season while staring at Dwayne Wade taking a team 1 on 5 does not work, they can point to last season and say “oh yes it does work!”
Since that did not seem like a good way to end this article, let me simply give you a link to Barry Sanders’ career numbers. I do not know if there has ever been a more consistently fantastic player. Jim Brown, maybe? No matter what, it is a two or three person list. Remember also, that Barry Sanders did this despite the fact that everyone knew he was Detroit’s only serious threat most of the time. Stare in awe, people, stare in awe.
GAAAHHH: Bill Simmons has long held a position of loftiness in my regard due to his amazing ability to discuss *exactly* what I had been complaining, praising, or talking about in days recent. This time, though, it is almost creepy. I mean... Joe-Morgan’s-incessant-Pujols-loving type of creepy. I wrote this in an article a few weeks back:
“On a related note, Chris Berman has got to be stopped. If he injects one more “oh by the way” into a spot where it simply does not fit, he needs to be shot. He’s an okay guy, and besides his incessant “back-back-back-back” (which starts to sound more like a chicken than a home run call), I don’t think he is a bad commentator. But his squeezing, twisting and forcing of “oh by the way” into these spots is sort of like that guy who has obviously never cursed in his life, wants to be “cool”, so he starts dropping f-bombs in all the wrong places, and sounds far more like a moron than he would have had he kept his mouth clean.”
Recently, I had decided to write an addendum to this, pointing out that while Chris Berman is the largest perpetrator, nearly every ESPN anchor/commentator/analyst was using this phrase like beer at a frat party. Of course... Bill Simmons beat me to it.
“(Important note No. 2: I will now be incorporating "andohbytheway" into my columns as mandated by the new company-wide policy that all ESPN personalities must say the phrase "andohbytheway" as much as possible. Andohbytheway, I'm not a big fan of this policy.)”
This is amazing. If Simmons, every once in a while, wrote about something I had thought, discussed or vaguely mused upon, that would be normal. After all, most people can associate with a guy who writes from the standpoint of a fan. In fact, if he wrote things all the time that I think about, discuss, or vaguely muse, it would be merely coincidental. But everything he freaking writes about, I have already thought, said or vaguely mused! He is either stupidly good at writing what the fan thinks (unlikely), or he is an alien with telepathic abilities (more likely). There aren’t any ways around it, people.
Decision Making: Brad Johnson made some horrible decisions last Monday, throwing the game away in the first quarter with two horrific interceptions. They were so horrific that it made me realize that 99% of the interceptions we see thrown aren’t that bad. There are Daunte Culpepper interceptions—i.e. his INT against Buffalo earlier this year—which are painful to watch, and then there are the rest, which are simply slightly misthrown passes. The thing here that is strange is that we usually say “oh what a stupid throw” or something along those lines. Yet, the difference between one of those brilliant Peyton Manning touchdowns, and one of those status quo Joey Harrington interceptions, is... about a foot. No one claims Peyton made a “stupid throw” when he perfectly shreds double coverage. When J.P. Losman does it, however, he was making a stupid decision. In reality, he simply cannot throw the ball as well as Peyton. Had the throw been on the money, we would all be lauding it as a terrific strike.
Along Those Lines: We need to begin charging receivers with INTs when the ball was perfectly thrown. How many times, last week alone, did QBs hit their receivers in the hands or chest, have the ball bounce off, right into a defender’s waiting arms, on his way to touching down? Many a time, to answer my own question. The QB does nothing wrong, yet his passer rating is dropped, and he gets another one of those ugly “INT”s on his resume. Same thing with dropped balls. The QB is supposed to throw it where the receiver can catch it, yet if the receiver drops it... the QB takes the stat hit. This makes no sense. If they can judge everything else—tackles, errors, etc.—they can freaking judge this. If the ball is perfectly thrown and the receiver simply *drops* it, the incompletion and/or interception should not be charged to the QB. It is that simple. They already use "drops" as a statistic, yet the QB is still penalized for an “incompletion”. That is simply hypocritical.
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