Back baby

It's back. It's ALL BACK! In honor of everything coming out of the woodworks recently, I have decided to bust out the blog. Andy Petitte went back to the Yankees, Bill Parcells went back into retirement, ESPN went back to discussing homosexuality as if sports somehow has anything to do with this, March went back to being not so mad, and I will now get back to insulting people, things and philosophies. You know, sort of like Democrats. Of course, in much the same way that Democrats have plenty to criticize (they are criticizing Republicans after all), I Also have plenty to criticize. So let's get to it.

First of all, though, let us hail someone who has now become one of the greatest QBs of our generation, Peyton Manning.That's right ladies and gentlemen, he is now the best QB of his time. This was completely unthinkable a few months ago but now he has validated his legacy by throwing twice as many interceptions as TDs in his most recent playoff run. We now know he is the best because he is better than Rex Grossman. We know he is the best because his defense suddenly learned how to tackle. We know he is the best because Adam Vinatieri was near golden throughout the playoffs. All of this clearly points to Peyton's perfection and brilliance.In 2003, when he threw a hundred TDs (actually, it was closer to 10, but that's a lot) in three games in the postseason, the Colts emerged defeated and Tom Brady was hailed as the greatest QB of his generation. Of course, Tom Brady also had a defense which shut down every other offense in the postseason that year, including my beloved Titans. But we ignore that.

The Truth is: we don't know how to judge whether a football player is any good. If we did, no one would still be praising Michael Vick. In baseball, where 99% of the game is a one on one battle between hitter and pitcher, it is rather easy to determine who is good and who isn't. In basketball, where players are judged on their ability to work within a team but also take over the game when necessary (i.e. Michael Jordan), it is rather easy to determine who succeeds and who fails. In football... oh football.

In football, eleven guys have to do everything right to make one good play. If you think about it, that makes it somewhat amazing that games like Super Bowl XLI don't occur more often (and by that, I mean games where both teams play pretty much terribly), but I digress. The point is that Peyton Manning rode a resurgent defense to the Hall of Fame, and yet no one on that defense, minus maybe Dwight Freeney, is sticking around in Canton after their chauffeuring duties are accomplished. The Steelers of an era ago won Super Bowls galore with a veritable roster of Hall of Fame inductees; the New England Patriots won their three Super Bowls with one or two at most. The moral of that story? A) Free agency didnt assassinate dynasties, and B) teams don't require anyone to be spectacular, they require everyone to be good and to and work together.

The overused phrase "team chemistry" only really applies in football. It does somewhat apply in Basketball, but as Shaq and Kobe proved, it means little more than toasters on an island. What do toasters on an island mean? Who the heck knows. The point is that football requires an amazing amount of coordination, and if the corner breaks at the right time and the safety drops off at the right time, it doesn't really matter if either of them have 4.33 speed. Everyone in the NFL is big, fast and strong. The ability to work collectively is far more important.

(A word on team "chemistry": where did this phrase originate? What exactly does "chemistry" have to do with coordination, teamwork, and collective action? The only thing I can think of is that by "chemistry" they mean "mixing things together", but not only is that a ridiculous misrepresentation of what chemistry actually is, but when you *do* mix things together in chemistry, you have no idea what you are going to get half the time. I really don't see how this cliche ever became a cliche. But we all know I could deconstruct cliches for years, so I'll move on now.)

The Chargers fired Marty Schottenheimer in an odd fashion, but now that he is gone, they can win a Super Bowl without further adu. They were by far the most talented team in the league last year, and lost in the playoffs due to a succession of egregious coaching errors longer than "Hey Jude". I don't need to list them again (it is hard to forget them), but they were beaten because the coaching stunk, not because the players messed up., and--Well crap. They hired Norv Turner, put the Super Bowl parade on hold.


I suppose that we should mention "March Madness". I place this in quotes because this March has been about as "mad" as... an entirely sober Vulcan. The hallowed opening rounds stunk, the Sweet Sixteen delivered many close games but ZERO (I'd say "count 'em" but you can't!) upsets, and the Elite Eight was fine but certainly no overwhelming amount of "madness" occured.

Maybe that is what they were counting on though. We have become so used to dozens of upsets a year that this year, with the tournament lacking in upsets entirely, it is completely mad, by virtue of the fact that it is completely sane! This is like Hannibal Lecter suddenly finding human flesh disgusting, the birds in "The Birds" suddenly sitting placidly around like birds usually do, or Dennis Rodman acting like a normal human being. It is more insane than insanity could have ever acheived!

...or not. In reality, it has simply been boring. But I do believe that it underscores a basic truth: The end result of the tourney is never particularly insane (okay, besides Villanova back in 85, but the fact that college basketball didn't have a shot clock was insane enough that I'm surprised it took so long for a Villanova to beat a Georgetown by milking the clock). The first few rounds are usually "insane" because a small number of crappy teams beat a small number of good ones. But even George Mason, king of all Cinderellas, never had a serious title shot. Sure it was cool they got to the Final Four, but who got to the Final Four in 1991? You know? Of course you don't. But you know Duke won the title. That is all that anyone remembers, and in the end, the upsets in the first round are meaningless beyond those silly brackets we all fill out. Now that we have a year with next to nothing in terms of early upsets, and yet our Final Four looks like most of the other Final Fours always have, we realize that upsets are highly overrated.

(If you haven't figured out by now that this is merely the depressing maundering of someone whose own bracket completely sucked this year due to the fact that he picked a lot of upsets... you are very very dumb)

In other news, Kobe Bryant is scoring many a point, and the Lakers are winning many a game. This makes a certain amount of sense because to win games one need score more points than the opponent (which it seems ESPN analysts forget sometimes), yet it also seems that for so long I have been told that Kobe is a ball-hog in such a negative light that his scoring must be bad. He should attempt to score as little as possible. Then the Lakers would somehow counter intuitively win more. Or something. Come on Kobe, how LOW can you GO! You must score less for the Lakers to win more! All the talking heads agreed on this years ago! Stop screwing with their brilliance by simultaneously scoring and winning! You are proving them all wrong and this is not allowed. At all. We frown upon ye, Kobe Bryant.

Steroids in baseball?! Folks are outraged that Gary Mathews Jr. Might possibly have used performance enhancing drugs. They are outraged because he is the first baseball player ever accused of cheating in any way shape or form. I mean, what do you think this is, NASCAR?

Alright, now the moment you have all been waiting for. Brilliant analysis and up to the minute news from our:

MORT REPORT RETORT!

The Yankees hope Chein-Ming Wang comes back from injury as quickly as possible, because he is a pitcher on their team.

Kerry Wood and Mark Prior are injured.

Greg Oden is a very good freshman for Ohio State University.

This just in: The Colts won the Superbowl.

This just in: Joakim Noah has a lot of hair.

USC is relatively excited about O.J. Mayo.

Peter Gammons is a Hall of Fame writer. This has been the case for a while now, this is nothing new, but it makes me wonder: what do I have to do to become a Hall of Fame writer? Besides first locating where exactly this writers Hall of Fame is located, I figure writing would be rather important. Yet who the heck ever reads anything Peter has to say? We all get our Gammons fix on ESPN when he analyzes, commentates, reports or dissects something in front of a camera (and he does it very well). And even if you wanted to read him online, you can only do it if you are in "ESPN Insider" otherwise known as Magazine Subscriber. And even then, you can't *really* read his insider columns because I *am* a subscriber and I cannot read them because the website refuses to acknowledge my privileged status. (I am very ticked off with ESPN regarding this issue. Very much so. Expect many beatings of a dead horse on this issue in the weeks to come). So since no one can read him, and we all watch him, shouldn't he be in the Sports reporters hall of fame or something? Not sure if there is one of those, but I never knew there was a writers Hall of Fame either, and I doubt you knew that, so stop giving me that condescending smirk and tell me where this Hall of Fame is located.

Well that is all I have for this post. While a little weak on humor, insight, and basically everything else you look for in a sports column, don't worry because A) this is my first one back and things will get better and B) my columns are never particularly funny, insightful or useful, so if you are reading them anyway, you must not care.

Until next time, try not to get flagged for roughing the passer, fouling Dwanye Wade, or discussing Kevin Durant.