My first Minute Maid Park play-by-play.
The 2008 Houston Astros made their home debut tonight, so Astro-Girl and I proceeded to our usual Opening Day Stations in our partial season-ticket seats.
(Have you ever been asked what law you could pass, if ever you could pass, by fiat, a law? I've long had the answer, up to now: Opening Day should be a national holiday. (One of my students informed me that a holiday was not technically a "law," but never mind.) Now I think I've got it. In all 29 American baseball cities (can't help Toronto) that city team's home opener should be a city holiday. Close the schools, close the banks, have one big party.)
It's odd, having a home opener after your team has been on the road; odder still to have a home opener after a bruising seven-game road trip against, first, a pennant contender (San Diego) and, second, a hated division arch-rival (the Cubs).
Some teams are just, "Huh?" Last year, the Mets. Year before, the Phillies. This year, we may be looking at the Astros. They've got veteran power/average (Tejada, Berkman, Lee), promising youth (Pence, Towles, Bourn), and a massive upgrade defensively, with Bourn patrolling Minute Maid's immense center field, Pence (last year at center) moving his range and cannon arm to right, and Kaz Matsui (soon as he can, ah, sit down) taking over at second for the sainted Bidge. Plus, defensively, Towles has a better arm than Ausmus, though it remains if he can even come close to Ausmus's wizardry with the pitching staff: calling pitches, calling timeouts, the intangibles that made Brad essentially a second pitching coach on the field. Whatever the team lost, trading Adam Everett's range at short for Miguel Tejada's, they almost make up for it with Mickey's arm.
Offensively, the team has upgraded or stayed the same at every position. At catcher, Towles can hit for distance. Infield: Berkman will be better than last year--healthier, anyway. Matsui will improve over Bidge. Tejada v. Everett? Please. Wigginton will, merciful God, take us away from the Ensberg/Lamb psychodrama. Call it five upgrades.
The outfield? Position-by-position, Pence will be a huge upgrade over Scott/Lane in right. Bourn will be slightly down from Pence (not as much power). Lee will be Lee: pencil him in for 150 games, 35 homers, 130 RBIs, a .290 average. Call it a wash.
Starting pitching. So far, Backe, Chacon, Wandy and Sampson have actually exceeded expectations, and kept the Astros in every game they pitched. Their record in starts? 3-3. Meaning: it falls to the early disappointment, Royo, to pick up the slack.
Relief pitching. Well? They can't hold leads, they can't hold ties, they can't keep the team close in close games. Otherwise, they've been fine. Is "Valverde" Spanish for "Lidge"?
Showing posts with label New England Patriots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New England Patriots. Show all posts
Monday, April 07, 2008
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Giants 17, Patriots . . . 14
Something is very wrong with me, I think.
I've been handed so many gut-ripping defeats in the last seven years (Yankees 2001, 2003, 2004; USC v. Vince Young, vs. UCLA 2006, vs. Stanford this year; Patriots v. Denver two years ago, Colts last year, Giants tonight) I believe I'm getting acclimated to the feeling.
Before the game, I pondered this thought: I made it to the age of 30 loving only one single team: Larry Bird's Celtics. (The nasty 1970s Yankees of Munson, Guidry and Reggie could be admired, but never, ever loved). Then, in the past 12 years, Torre's Yankees, the Jake Plummer/Pat Tillman Sun Devils, the Brady/Belichick Patriots, and Pete Carroll's Leinart/Bush/White/Cody/Tatupu Trojans.
Four teams loved in a single decade. (At one point, from 2002 through the Vince Bowl, the Patriots and Trojans combined for an astounding 111 straight games without a loss of lasting significance, defined as any loss ending all championship hopes.)
A harvest. A lifetime crammed into twelve years.
But two lessons learned along the way.
1. There will always be a price for caring.
2. It hurts more to lose than it feels good to win.
In the past dozen years, I have gone into for contests thinking, This is the game. I've made a pact with God: allow them this win, and the next two decades can hang themselves.
1997 Rose Bowl, and Jake Plummer's dream season.
2001 World Series Game 7, and the Yankees' quest for four straight World Series rings and canonization as the greatest team ever.
2006 Rose Bowl, and the quest for a Three-Pete.
Tonight's Game.
Result: 0-4.
Tonight's oddly enough, not as bad as I thought.
So maybe I'm getting used to it.
Which worries me, I guess.
I've been handed so many gut-ripping defeats in the last seven years (Yankees 2001, 2003, 2004; USC v. Vince Young, vs. UCLA 2006, vs. Stanford this year; Patriots v. Denver two years ago, Colts last year, Giants tonight) I believe I'm getting acclimated to the feeling.
Before the game, I pondered this thought: I made it to the age of 30 loving only one single team: Larry Bird's Celtics. (The nasty 1970s Yankees of Munson, Guidry and Reggie could be admired, but never, ever loved). Then, in the past 12 years, Torre's Yankees, the Jake Plummer/Pat Tillman Sun Devils, the Brady/Belichick Patriots, and Pete Carroll's Leinart/Bush/White/Cody/Tatupu Trojans.
Four teams loved in a single decade. (At one point, from 2002 through the Vince Bowl, the Patriots and Trojans combined for an astounding 111 straight games without a loss of lasting significance, defined as any loss ending all championship hopes.)
A harvest. A lifetime crammed into twelve years.
But two lessons learned along the way.
1. There will always be a price for caring.
2. It hurts more to lose than it feels good to win.
In the past dozen years, I have gone into for contests thinking, This is the game. I've made a pact with God: allow them this win, and the next two decades can hang themselves.
1997 Rose Bowl, and Jake Plummer's dream season.
2001 World Series Game 7, and the Yankees' quest for four straight World Series rings and canonization as the greatest team ever.
2006 Rose Bowl, and the quest for a Three-Pete.
Tonight's Game.
Result: 0-4.
Tonight's oddly enough, not as bad as I thought.
So maybe I'm getting used to it.
Which worries me, I guess.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Championship Sunday, Part 3
And now, to relax and enjoy Giants v. Packers.
Oh, Oh, and gotta love tonight's programming:
Fox: Giants v. Packers, in the third-coldest game in NFL history.
CBS: Special Report: "The Age of Warming."
Update: Third Tyne's the Charm--Fox beat me to it.
Giants 23, Packers 20 (OT). Couldn't decide whom to root for or against; based on the "what would help the Patriots most" principle, I measured Randy Moss's ability to run past Al Harris (considerable) against the public sentiment in favor of Brett Favre (again, considerable); plus the trouble for the Pats based on the Giants' having seen the Patriots before (marginal).
It is worth considering, just to consider, that anyone who has bet against the Patriots covering since the middle of November would have made a fortune. Philly was a nail-biter. They came within one stupid Baltimore time-out of losing to the Ravens. The Jets hung in for awhile, as did even Miami. The Giants let by double-digits late. And in the playoffs, both Jacksonville and San Diego hung in for 3 1/2 quarters, San Diego with their best three offensive weapons either out or seriously compromised.
Bottom line: in their last seven games, vs. the spread, the Pats are 0-7. This fact has to be discounted a bit, as the books in Vegas always add a "Cowboy Tax" (or "Irish Tax" or "Trojan Tax" or "Bear Tax") on the chic team of the moment, especially when said team has a certain history of success. But the truth is that the Pats have had to struggle for every win (or in the case of Miami, every win-that-should-have-been-a-stomp) since the 15th of November. Look it up: over two months.
However, the one constant in these seven games has been the wind--and mostly, the cold. They played Philly, Bal'mer and San Diego in outright wind storms. Giants Stadium in December and January is a wind tunnel. And things were hardly better in Foxborough against the other teams. In each situation, Randy Moss was effectively neutralized, Brady's passes fluttered and flew, and the Patriots pass-first offense was reduced to underneath bullets to Welker and Stallworth, plus out patterns to Gaffney.
What saved the Pats was--as Ted Cotrell, the Chargers' DC, said earlier in the week--the ability of the Pats' offense to play seven different types of football. With the Pats' biggest weapon, the bomb to Moss, as effectively neutralized as LaDanian Tomlinson's running game, with a superb and opportunistic Chargers secondary goading Brady into more interceptions this week (three) than he had incompletions last week (two), the Pats switched to grind-it-out, playing two and three tight ends, pounding Maroney between the tackles, and throwing screens and short-short-short outs, including two crucial first-down catches by Kevin Faulk, the game was effectively over by the seven-minute mark of the fourth quarter.
Now, looking forward two weeks, one has to consider all of the previous paragraph, plus the fact that the Giants' defense isn't as good as the Chargers', plus the re-match may favor Belichick over Coughlin--add all that up, and then add that the Super Bowl will likely be played indoors, in 71-degree weather, and no wind whatsoever. What you are left with are the Pats of the last two months plus a Randy Moss and downfield passing game that becomes a factor all over again.
Anyway, what I think as I go to bed.
Oh, Oh, and gotta love tonight's programming:
Fox: Giants v. Packers, in the third-coldest game in NFL history.
CBS: Special Report: "The Age of Warming."
Update: Third Tyne's the Charm--Fox beat me to it.
Giants 23, Packers 20 (OT). Couldn't decide whom to root for or against; based on the "what would help the Patriots most" principle, I measured Randy Moss's ability to run past Al Harris (considerable) against the public sentiment in favor of Brett Favre (again, considerable); plus the trouble for the Pats based on the Giants' having seen the Patriots before (marginal).
It is worth considering, just to consider, that anyone who has bet against the Patriots covering since the middle of November would have made a fortune. Philly was a nail-biter. They came within one stupid Baltimore time-out of losing to the Ravens. The Jets hung in for awhile, as did even Miami. The Giants let by double-digits late. And in the playoffs, both Jacksonville and San Diego hung in for 3 1/2 quarters, San Diego with their best three offensive weapons either out or seriously compromised.
Bottom line: in their last seven games, vs. the spread, the Pats are 0-7. This fact has to be discounted a bit, as the books in Vegas always add a "Cowboy Tax" (or "Irish Tax" or "Trojan Tax" or "Bear Tax") on the chic team of the moment, especially when said team has a certain history of success. But the truth is that the Pats have had to struggle for every win (or in the case of Miami, every win-that-should-have-been-a-stomp) since the 15th of November. Look it up: over two months.
However, the one constant in these seven games has been the wind--and mostly, the cold. They played Philly, Bal'mer and San Diego in outright wind storms. Giants Stadium in December and January is a wind tunnel. And things were hardly better in Foxborough against the other teams. In each situation, Randy Moss was effectively neutralized, Brady's passes fluttered and flew, and the Patriots pass-first offense was reduced to underneath bullets to Welker and Stallworth, plus out patterns to Gaffney.
What saved the Pats was--as Ted Cotrell, the Chargers' DC, said earlier in the week--the ability of the Pats' offense to play seven different types of football. With the Pats' biggest weapon, the bomb to Moss, as effectively neutralized as LaDanian Tomlinson's running game, with a superb and opportunistic Chargers secondary goading Brady into more interceptions this week (three) than he had incompletions last week (two), the Pats switched to grind-it-out, playing two and three tight ends, pounding Maroney between the tackles, and throwing screens and short-short-short outs, including two crucial first-down catches by Kevin Faulk, the game was effectively over by the seven-minute mark of the fourth quarter.
Now, looking forward two weeks, one has to consider all of the previous paragraph, plus the fact that the Giants' defense isn't as good as the Chargers', plus the re-match may favor Belichick over Coughlin--add all that up, and then add that the Super Bowl will likely be played indoors, in 71-degree weather, and no wind whatsoever. What you are left with are the Pats of the last two months plus a Randy Moss and downfield passing game that becomes a factor all over again.
Anyway, what I think as I go to bed.
Championship Sunday, Part 2
I almost never watch halftime, but I'm glad (for all the wrong reasons) that I watched today.
First, as Bill Simmons had harped on over and over, with any studio analyst past the fourth, the laws of diminishing returns starts to kick in. The situation has gotten so bad that on certain shows (most conscpicuously, "Football Night in America") that analysts are now breaking off in smaller bunches, like freshman comp students doing group work in preparation for a class presentation.
Second, what the use of more analysts if all that happens is the stupidity is multiplied? The consensus at the CBS table (Cowher, Sharpe, and Marino) was that Rivers either had to sit now or had to sit the next time he made a mistake. Boomer, who almost fell out of his chair, could only come up with: Umm, what?
The third was Dan Marino's cell phone, which erupted not once but three times. My own theory is that, after the first time, one or two other persons who know his number started calling, to see if they could get Marino yelled at--or perhaps stared down by an apoplectic producer the same way Marino used to glare at receivers who had dared drop one of his passes.
Second half:
Good return by Maroney. The theme of the last few games has been that Welker gets right what Brady-to-Moss can't accomplish.
Brady sacked, followed by . . .
Third and long . . . interception.
Rivers leads the Chargers down inside the ten. Another stop: Seau lays out Turner. Keading. 14-12, Pats.
Brady (well, Maroney) leads the Patriots smartly down the field and . . . . ugh . . . intercepted in the end zone.
Turner with the first down. Pats switch from bend-but-don't-break to pressure. Rivers, two incompletetions. Punt.
Brady to Heath Evans, first down.
End of third quarter.
Student Maroney right, student Maroney left: first and goal. TD pass to Welker.
Pats 21, Bolts 12.
San Diego, first down.
A few plays later, 3rd and 10 at the thirty--Rivers complete for the first.
Seymour and Rivers into it; Seymour gives Rivers an elbow shiver, and Rivers (clearly a graduate of the Dennis Rodman School of Acting) flails on the ground as if shot.
Fourth-and-10. Nine minutes to go, two scores down. Will the Chargers go for it? No. Punt.
Now, following a Brady sack, third-and-11. Crucial pass to Faulk, who rolls to the yellow stripe. First down.
A few plays later, Brady throw behind Faulk, who hauls it in. First down.
Almost there.
Maroney, Maroney . . . two-minute warning.
Maroney for the first down. This should do it.
Kneel, kneel . . . Ladies and Gentlemen, your 2007 AFC Champions.
First, as Bill Simmons had harped on over and over, with any studio analyst past the fourth, the laws of diminishing returns starts to kick in. The situation has gotten so bad that on certain shows (most conscpicuously, "Football Night in America") that analysts are now breaking off in smaller bunches, like freshman comp students doing group work in preparation for a class presentation.
Second, what the use of more analysts if all that happens is the stupidity is multiplied? The consensus at the CBS table (Cowher, Sharpe, and Marino) was that Rivers either had to sit now or had to sit the next time he made a mistake. Boomer, who almost fell out of his chair, could only come up with: Umm, what?
The third was Dan Marino's cell phone, which erupted not once but three times. My own theory is that, after the first time, one or two other persons who know his number started calling, to see if they could get Marino yelled at--or perhaps stared down by an apoplectic producer the same way Marino used to glare at receivers who had dared drop one of his passes.
Second half:
Good return by Maroney. The theme of the last few games has been that Welker gets right what Brady-to-Moss can't accomplish.
Brady sacked, followed by . . .
Third and long . . . interception.
Rivers leads the Chargers down inside the ten. Another stop: Seau lays out Turner. Keading. 14-12, Pats.
Brady (well, Maroney) leads the Patriots smartly down the field and . . . . ugh . . . intercepted in the end zone.
Turner with the first down. Pats switch from bend-but-don't-break to pressure. Rivers, two incompletetions. Punt.
Brady to Heath Evans, first down.
End of third quarter.
Student Maroney right, student Maroney left: first and goal. TD pass to Welker.
Pats 21, Bolts 12.
San Diego, first down.
A few plays later, 3rd and 10 at the thirty--Rivers complete for the first.
Seymour and Rivers into it; Seymour gives Rivers an elbow shiver, and Rivers (clearly a graduate of the Dennis Rodman School of Acting) flails on the ground as if shot.
Fourth-and-10. Nine minutes to go, two scores down. Will the Chargers go for it? No. Punt.
Now, following a Brady sack, third-and-11. Crucial pass to Faulk, who rolls to the yellow stripe. First down.
A few plays later, Brady throw behind Faulk, who hauls it in. First down.
Almost there.
Maroney, Maroney . . . two-minute warning.
Maroney for the first down. This should do it.
Kneel, kneel . . . Ladies and Gentlemen, your 2007 AFC Champions.
Championship Sunday, Part 1
The start of Championship Sunday, aka The Greatest Sports Day of the Year.
First up, Pats v Bolts, and I'm where I've been every week (save the second Dolphins game): sick to my stomach.
So, okay.
Update: 0-0, first quarter. So far:
1. The high winds have eliminated any downfield passing.
2. The San Diego defense is controlling the line; I think the Pats have run for negative yardage thus far.
4. Tom Brady has more incompletions (three) than all of last week.
5. Phil Simms, a usually smart guy, is first out of the gate with the idiocy of the day: "All week long, the San Diego Chargers have been told they don't have a chance . . ." Oh? By whom? No, really, who said such a thing?
Brady interception. A weird silence settles over Gillette.
Third and goal . . . Rivers' pass . . . caught out of bounds. 3-0 Bolts.
Call it a moral victory for the Pats.
The point of the Ford Liberty commercial seems to be this: buy a Ford SUV, and a horde of woodland animals will enter through the sky roof to sing Neil Diamond songs. Works for me.
That McDonald's commercial, the one starring the spoiled little brat who teaches his family to release their inner black . . .
Moss on a reverse. 14 yards, looking like Kareem leading a Showtime fast break.
Two good passes to Faulk, and the end of the first. Now, on behalf of the Patriots, the timber wolf will sing Bob Segers' "Against the Wind."
Update: Three plays, Maroney touchdown.
Bolts' ball . . . completion to Vincent Jackson, who only gets one foot in. Didn't anyone see this? Won't anyone say anything?
First and goal at the nine: Turner for a yard.
Second and goal: Rivers flushed out, throws to Gates, knocked down by Bru (Bruuuu!, or as the University of Arizona-hating Desert Rose refers to this former Wildcat, Fat Teddy Bruschi.)
Time out.
Third and goal: complete in the flat to Chambers, who is undercut by Harrison seven yards from the end zone.
Kaeding field goal. 7-6 Pats.
Third-and-short, pass to Moss batted down. Hanson punt, downed inside the five.
Third-and-short, Rivers complete to Sproles.
With Mike Vrabel wrapped around his ankle like a terrier, Rivers throws an off-balance flutter that Asante Samuel simply snatches from Chris Chambers' grasp. Two plays later, Brady TD to Gaffney. 14-6.
Three minutes to go, Rivers throws an interception to Ellis Hobbs as if playing catch with his brother in the backyard.
Two-minute warning.
Third-and-two. Brady over-muscles a ball to an open Welker. Punt.
Sproles runs for 25 yards, ball comes out. Ruled down. Review.
Verdict: not even close to a fumble. The upshot is a free timeout for San Diego. (Would it have been possible for New England to decline the review? A green hanky, perhaps?)
13 seconds to go. Rivers overthrows; Kaeding out for the field goal attempt. Time out, Patriots.
Jim Nantz: "Belichick's trying to ice the kicker."
Astro-Girl: "Ice him? Belichick's gonna throw ice on him?"
Me: "No."
Astro-Girl: "Well, I wouldn't put it past him."
Kick is just good. 14-9, Pats.
First up, Pats v Bolts, and I'm where I've been every week (save the second Dolphins game): sick to my stomach.
So, okay.
Update: 0-0, first quarter. So far:
1. The high winds have eliminated any downfield passing.
2. The San Diego defense is controlling the line; I think the Pats have run for negative yardage thus far.
4. Tom Brady has more incompletions (three) than all of last week.
5. Phil Simms, a usually smart guy, is first out of the gate with the idiocy of the day: "All week long, the San Diego Chargers have been told they don't have a chance . . ." Oh? By whom? No, really, who said such a thing?
Brady interception. A weird silence settles over Gillette.
Third and goal . . . Rivers' pass . . . caught out of bounds. 3-0 Bolts.
Call it a moral victory for the Pats.
The point of the Ford Liberty commercial seems to be this: buy a Ford SUV, and a horde of woodland animals will enter through the sky roof to sing Neil Diamond songs. Works for me.
That McDonald's commercial, the one starring the spoiled little brat who teaches his family to release their inner black . . .
Moss on a reverse. 14 yards, looking like Kareem leading a Showtime fast break.
Two good passes to Faulk, and the end of the first. Now, on behalf of the Patriots, the timber wolf will sing Bob Segers' "Against the Wind."
Update: Three plays, Maroney touchdown.
Bolts' ball . . . completion to Vincent Jackson, who only gets one foot in. Didn't anyone see this? Won't anyone say anything?
First and goal at the nine: Turner for a yard.
Second and goal: Rivers flushed out, throws to Gates, knocked down by Bru (Bruuuu!, or as the University of Arizona-hating Desert Rose refers to this former Wildcat, Fat Teddy Bruschi.)
Time out.
Third and goal: complete in the flat to Chambers, who is undercut by Harrison seven yards from the end zone.
Kaeding field goal. 7-6 Pats.
Third-and-short, pass to Moss batted down. Hanson punt, downed inside the five.
Third-and-short, Rivers complete to Sproles.
With Mike Vrabel wrapped around his ankle like a terrier, Rivers throws an off-balance flutter that Asante Samuel simply snatches from Chris Chambers' grasp. Two plays later, Brady TD to Gaffney. 14-6.
Three minutes to go, Rivers throws an interception to Ellis Hobbs as if playing catch with his brother in the backyard.
Two-minute warning.
Third-and-two. Brady over-muscles a ball to an open Welker. Punt.
Sproles runs for 25 yards, ball comes out. Ruled down. Review.
Verdict: not even close to a fumble. The upshot is a free timeout for San Diego. (Would it have been possible for New England to decline the review? A green hanky, perhaps?)
13 seconds to go. Rivers overthrows; Kaeding out for the field goal attempt. Time out, Patriots.
Jim Nantz: "Belichick's trying to ice the kicker."
Astro-Girl: "Ice him? Belichick's gonna throw ice on him?"
Me: "No."
Astro-Girl: "Well, I wouldn't put it past him."
Kick is just good. 14-9, Pats.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Patriots 31, Jaguars 20
Quick thoughts:
*See how long it goes, but the Pats' are starting to resemble the 98-99 Yankees, in that they're starting to win close games the same way. Those Yanks had strong enough starting pitching to keep them in most games, timely hitting from the fifth inning on, and a suffocating bullpen anchored by Rivera. The Pats have Brady, who keeps the them close enough even when the opposition is scoring early; a smart and opportunistic (if aging) defense that forces the other team to grind everything out; and a knack on both sides of the ball for that one killer, fourth-quarter play. Brady to Watson (the seocnd time) was one dagger; Harrison's interception was, on defense, like the knock-out blow you keep expecting that finally comes. New England's D came within a few inches intercepting Garrard earlier; when Harrison hauled one in, it had the smack of the inevitable.
*Much was made, before and during the game, of the Jaguars' "ball control," their so-called ability to keep the Pats' offense off the field and mile the clock. Be careful of your strategy! The Jags did keep Brady on the sidelines (for awhile, it seemed as though the Pats would be the very first team in NFL history to lose without either turning the ball over or punting once--think about it), but in the end this was more a matter of necessity than strategy. It was clear early on that the Pats' would allow the Jags all sorts of underneath stuff, even on third down, in order to prevent anything deep. (It is telling that Garrard's one long completion came on fourth down, and on a broken play, when a Jags receiver seemed to appear trailing a puff of smoke behind him.) Once the Patriots went ahead by 11, the Jags' grind-it-out strategy was not only obsolete, it was counterproductive. No one, with the possible exception of Bill Parcells, understands the nuances of the clock as well as Bill Belichick, and when the fourth quarter went below ten minutes Belickick must have realized the game was all but over. It is one thing to milk the clock when you want to; yet another when you have no other choice. With Brady near-flawless, could the Jags drive the length of the field twice? Unlikely--and with the Pats (as they were against Eli last week) suddenly comfortable blitzing, impossible.
*That said, this Jags team is a comer. Consider the poor Houston Texans. As of 4 pm ET last Sunday, five teams remained in the playoffs. Three were from the AFC South: Indy, Jacksonville, Tennessee. Furthermore, injuries aside, the Texans will now have two games apiece, every season, vs. Peyton Manning, Vince Young, and David Garrard. What will count as in-division success? 3-3? 2-4?
*See how long it goes, but the Pats' are starting to resemble the 98-99 Yankees, in that they're starting to win close games the same way. Those Yanks had strong enough starting pitching to keep them in most games, timely hitting from the fifth inning on, and a suffocating bullpen anchored by Rivera. The Pats have Brady, who keeps the them close enough even when the opposition is scoring early; a smart and opportunistic (if aging) defense that forces the other team to grind everything out; and a knack on both sides of the ball for that one killer, fourth-quarter play. Brady to Watson (the seocnd time) was one dagger; Harrison's interception was, on defense, like the knock-out blow you keep expecting that finally comes. New England's D came within a few inches intercepting Garrard earlier; when Harrison hauled one in, it had the smack of the inevitable.
*Much was made, before and during the game, of the Jaguars' "ball control," their so-called ability to keep the Pats' offense off the field and mile the clock. Be careful of your strategy! The Jags did keep Brady on the sidelines (for awhile, it seemed as though the Pats would be the very first team in NFL history to lose without either turning the ball over or punting once--think about it), but in the end this was more a matter of necessity than strategy. It was clear early on that the Pats' would allow the Jags all sorts of underneath stuff, even on third down, in order to prevent anything deep. (It is telling that Garrard's one long completion came on fourth down, and on a broken play, when a Jags receiver seemed to appear trailing a puff of smoke behind him.) Once the Patriots went ahead by 11, the Jags' grind-it-out strategy was not only obsolete, it was counterproductive. No one, with the possible exception of Bill Parcells, understands the nuances of the clock as well as Bill Belichick, and when the fourth quarter went below ten minutes Belickick must have realized the game was all but over. It is one thing to milk the clock when you want to; yet another when you have no other choice. With Brady near-flawless, could the Jags drive the length of the field twice? Unlikely--and with the Pats (as they were against Eli last week) suddenly comfortable blitzing, impossible.
*That said, this Jags team is a comer. Consider the poor Houston Texans. As of 4 pm ET last Sunday, five teams remained in the playoffs. Three were from the AFC South: Indy, Jacksonville, Tennessee. Furthermore, injuries aside, the Texans will now have two games apiece, every season, vs. Peyton Manning, Vince Young, and David Garrard. What will count as in-division success? 3-3? 2-4?
Saturday, December 29, 2007
New England 38, New York 35
Quick thoughts:
1. Omigod, what a game. It remains to be seen if the NFL Network gains or loses.
2. Four Pats games this season that could have gone either way--but, college football fans will mark, a BCS Champ (save this year) has to pull out a few of those games.
3. Tom Brady belongs in the pantheon of Reggie Jackson, Larry Bird, Michael Jordan, David Ortiz, Mo Rivera, Joe Montana . . . have I left out anyone? Who play their best when all seems lost.
4. Bryant Gumbel is an idiot.
1. Omigod, what a game. It remains to be seen if the NFL Network gains or loses.
2. Four Pats games this season that could have gone either way--but, college football fans will mark, a BCS Champ (save this year) has to pull out a few of those games.
3. Tom Brady belongs in the pantheon of Reggie Jackson, Larry Bird, Michael Jordan, David Ortiz, Mo Rivera, Joe Montana . . . have I left out anyone? Who play their best when all seems lost.
4. Bryant Gumbel is an idiot.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Patriots' Game
Was the game over when the Ravens' defensive coordinator negated the Ravens' historical stop on fourth-and-one by one of those chic, too-cute-by-half pre-snap timeouts?
No.
Too many times--times we condition ourselves to forget--we think: Ah, it's over.
Carlton Fisk's home run, Jake Plummer's fourth-and-eleven gallop, Alfonso Soriano going deep against Schilling . . .
. . . So, okay, this is what I was thinking: in sports, the first rule is, beware of false omens.
So: a stop on fourth and short negated by a cutesy time-out, as Ray Lewis flops on the turf in disbelief.
Another fourth-and-short. Another stop.
Tweet. False start. Can't be declined.
Fourth and six. Brady, flushed out, scampers for the first.
Illegal contact.
Three plays later, fourth-and-five. Brady throws to the end zone, incomplete . . .
Tweet. Holding.
One play later, touchdown pass to Gaffney . . . who was once cut by the Texans.
Yeah, had 'em all the time. Knew it the instant Baltimore called time out.
More here.
No.
Too many times--times we condition ourselves to forget--we think: Ah, it's over.
Carlton Fisk's home run, Jake Plummer's fourth-and-eleven gallop, Alfonso Soriano going deep against Schilling . . .
. . . So, okay, this is what I was thinking: in sports, the first rule is, beware of false omens.
So: a stop on fourth and short negated by a cutesy time-out, as Ray Lewis flops on the turf in disbelief.
Another fourth-and-short. Another stop.
Tweet. False start. Can't be declined.
Fourth and six. Brady, flushed out, scampers for the first.
Illegal contact.
Three plays later, fourth-and-five. Brady throws to the end zone, incomplete . . .
Tweet. Holding.
One play later, touchdown pass to Gaffney . . . who was once cut by the Texans.
Yeah, had 'em all the time. Knew it the instant Baltimore called time out.
More here.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Off Day
So: the 'Stros and Yankees have, between them, provided one blissful day in the past nine: this past Saturday.
Joe Torre was going to be fired, or not--an act that might have made sense last October, but would make none now. You fire a manager for one of three reasons:
1. His managerial skill set (judgment of talent, analysis of statistics, and game strategy) is suspect;
2. His personality has become either a distraction or a non-factor, meaning the players are tuning him out;
3. Some better candidate is available.
In the case of Joe Torre:
1. He has always been solid in the first two categories and passable in the third. These things don't change.
2. By all accounts, the players (read Jeter) love him; his best asset as a manager (providing cover for the players while not allowing them to slacken in their duties) is as sound as ever;
3. Who is out there? Lou Piniella would have the stature to flog the team into a stretch of intensity, but he's taken; Mattingly and Girardi are miniature Torres, comforting presences, minus four World Series rings. (As a manager, anyway.)
So, what? Torre can't go out to the mound and pitch. He can't bat for his players. Fire him, fine. But don't think that Girardi or Donnie Baseball will catch Boston with a rotation that belongs in Triple-A.
What comfort I could take in the weekend was found in the New England Patriots, a team so loaded heading into the fall that I would be happy to forgo what is shaping up to be a dismal summer and head into the fall. The Patriots, who were one first down away from the AFC Championship (and an almost certain win over the Bears), have added three wide receivers, all better than any of the receivers they had last season. The true test of the Randy Moss acquisition was that the Pats were Super Bowl favorites before the draft. Now, adding the kid from Miami, along with Moss, was simply a bonus.
Perhaps only a lifelong Patriots fan could appreciate the team as now composed. I awoke this morning to "Mike & Mike," heard of the Moss trade, and said, out loud, "Um, what?" And all day, heading from office to classroom to car to campus to classroom, kept thinking about the trade as if remembering the three hundred I'd won the previous night at Blackjack (for instance). Never has a gamebreaker come into a situation with less screw-around room.
Repeat: The Patriots were overwhelming Super Bowl favorites before the past weekend. Meaning: if Moss messes up once, the Hoodie will cut him loose.
It didn't hurt that Miami made a hash of its draft day, that Buffalo seems at least a year away, that the Jets will have to play a second-place schedule in 2007.
Rain today. Saturday was a million miles away.
Joe Torre was going to be fired, or not--an act that might have made sense last October, but would make none now. You fire a manager for one of three reasons:
1. His managerial skill set (judgment of talent, analysis of statistics, and game strategy) is suspect;
2. His personality has become either a distraction or a non-factor, meaning the players are tuning him out;
3. Some better candidate is available.
In the case of Joe Torre:
1. He has always been solid in the first two categories and passable in the third. These things don't change.
2. By all accounts, the players (read Jeter) love him; his best asset as a manager (providing cover for the players while not allowing them to slacken in their duties) is as sound as ever;
3. Who is out there? Lou Piniella would have the stature to flog the team into a stretch of intensity, but he's taken; Mattingly and Girardi are miniature Torres, comforting presences, minus four World Series rings. (As a manager, anyway.)
So, what? Torre can't go out to the mound and pitch. He can't bat for his players. Fire him, fine. But don't think that Girardi or Donnie Baseball will catch Boston with a rotation that belongs in Triple-A.
What comfort I could take in the weekend was found in the New England Patriots, a team so loaded heading into the fall that I would be happy to forgo what is shaping up to be a dismal summer and head into the fall. The Patriots, who were one first down away from the AFC Championship (and an almost certain win over the Bears), have added three wide receivers, all better than any of the receivers they had last season. The true test of the Randy Moss acquisition was that the Pats were Super Bowl favorites before the draft. Now, adding the kid from Miami, along with Moss, was simply a bonus.
Perhaps only a lifelong Patriots fan could appreciate the team as now composed. I awoke this morning to "Mike & Mike," heard of the Moss trade, and said, out loud, "Um, what?" And all day, heading from office to classroom to car to campus to classroom, kept thinking about the trade as if remembering the three hundred I'd won the previous night at Blackjack (for instance). Never has a gamebreaker come into a situation with less screw-around room.
Repeat: The Patriots were overwhelming Super Bowl favorites before the past weekend. Meaning: if Moss messes up once, the Hoodie will cut him loose.
It didn't hurt that Miami made a hash of its draft day, that Buffalo seems at least a year away, that the Jets will have to play a second-place schedule in 2007.
Rain today. Saturday was a million miles away.
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