I know, I know, what happened to Octavio? I get on a roll and then disappear. Three weeks ago I actually went to “The Linc” in Philadelphia and watched the Giants play live against the Eagles with my dad. We then came back to his place for a nice home cooked roast. Then I went to bed. I got back to New York the next day and had matters from that damn job that pays to attend to. And since I’d been gone for about 36 hours or so, I figured I’d spend some extra time with my four month old son later that night. At that point the timeliness of the game had slipped away anyway. So sorry, but no blog for that game; though I thoroughly enjoyed wearing my Giant blue among one of the more ornery fan bases in the NFL. Love those straight talking “Iggle” fans. Those upper level seats should get an “R” rating for language. Even though I was in hostile territory, I felt at home. God bless Philadelphia, and Dad, thanks for scoring those tickets. I had a blast...
The week after, I just could not stay awake while the game was on. Then again, who could the way the Giants played against the Skins that night? Call me lame, but I simply could not keep awake past the first quarter.
The following week, Octavio was down in the Washington DC area for Christmas. He was at his mother in law’s house last Sunday where football isn’t really acknowledged. Trust me; the temptation to turn on the TV was calling me like a Siren on the rocks, the voices tormenting me in my head: “WATCH THE GAME, WATCH THE GAME, WATCH THE GAME!!!!” But alas, I did the right thing and did Christmas stuff instead. Besides, being that I was in the DC area, I’m not even sure if I’d be able to see the Giants-Bills game anyway. I just had to write that one off.
And so Saturday night I did see the Giants play the New England Patriots. It was nice to be home after a peripatetic Christmas tour involving many friends, relatives and in-laws. It was also great to see the cats again. That’s right, I’m a cat person, so feel free to stop reading at any time. We were gone for a full week, logging nearly 900 miles between New York and the Mid Atlantic states with our four and a half month old son. Man he’s a trooper, and a natural born traveler to boot. It was great to hear some passion at the Meadowlands while the Giants were hanging tough as well. I don’t really want to sound like too tough of a fan since the media has been surprisingly kind to the Giants’ “valiant” loss, but you could feel this one slip away. Giant fans are some of the most intuitive fans in the NFL. I know, that probably sounds like East Coast snobbery coming out, as if to suggest New York fans are on a higher, more perceptive plane than those in, say, Green Bay; but they just know when things are about to go awry. We are not idealistic fans, we hate schmaltzy crap about Brett Favre’s wife, and we still don’t have cheerleaders. I frankly don’t want to get into a recap of this particular game. The Patriots are 16-0 and will likely win the Super Bowl. But here are a variety of thoughts regarding direct and peripheral matters about the NFL, the Giants, and perhaps some other stuff too.
1. What’s clear about the Patriots is this. They are not an impregnable force for four full quarters, they are an impregnable force in the fourth quarter. They can be beaten if any team is willing or able to play a complete game. In many ways, losing to New England is as much about being outplayed as it is psychological implosion. Think of the geeky guy wooing a beautiful woman at a bar. He makes her laugh, he makes her whole, and he makes her feel like…a woman. It’s too good to be true, the geeky guy just can’t believe a guy like him could ever win over such a catch, and thus before things get out of hand, he finds some way to sabotage the situation before he gets beyond his own perceived limitations. How could he ever live up to this elevated potential? It’s simply asking too much of him. Should he be able to pull off the impossible, he’ll never be able to step below this threshold…ever...again. The pressure is insurmountable. Clearly it’s safer for him to let her go, and thus, just when it’s time to ask her out, he finds some way to turn her off…for good. And now, thankfully, as a result of blowing it with this woman, things can now remain predictably status-quo for a long, long while. Time to go play darts with the boys again. To a certain extent, I feel this was the mindset of the Eagles, Ravens and Giants when they could have, but failed to beat the Patriots this season.
2. Even though I couldn’t see any of the afternoon games last Sunday, I was able to see the late game that night between the Vikings and Redskins. The Redskins won, but as it was well publicized, there was one play that basically determined the outcome of the game. The Redskins threw a pass that was ruled a completion for a decent gain. After seeing the instant replay, it was pretty clear that it really wasn’t a complete pass. Realizing this, Washington quickly marched down the field to spike the ball so Minnesota couldn’t challenge what would likely be a reversed call. However, in the process of trying to spike the ball in haste, Washington fumbled the snap and Minnesota recovered. As Minnesota’s offense took to the field, Washington challenged that the Vikings had 12 men on the previous play…hmmmmm. So the officials took a look under the hood and indeed the Redskins were correct, the Vikings did have 12 men on the field. Not only was the call reversed, the Vikings were penalized five yards and Washington resumed the drive with a favorable first and five situation. Al Michaels, who was calling the game with John Madden for NBC, said something like, “whoever decided to make that challenge deserves a raise”. No doubt that was some pretty savvy spotting by Washington, but here’s what I have a problem with.
First of all, Instant Replay is never to be used to reverse judgment calls. If a quarterback gets his head twisted around because a defender grabs his face mask and the refs miss it, so be it, that’s simply the imperfection of human beings officiating football games. Way it goes, move on, hopefully that quarterback still has a head. And while having 12 men on the field is more of a black and white situation, it’s still a judgment call that the officials on the field must make. And if they miss it…well…life stinks. In the case of the game between Minnesota and Washington, I don’t think that play should have been allowed to be challenged. My concern is this is going to set a precedent that could open up a wave of tedious challenges regarding technical judgment calls. You’ll have a game where team A throws a 60 yard touchdown pass, however team B, in hopes of getting a cheap break, will challenge the play because of a purported neutral zone infraction. This is NOT how Instant Replay is supposed to be used. I frankly hate Instant Replay anyway. There’s just something whiney about it, much in the way somebody cries to a motel manager because their Cheetos didn’t completely drop off the vending machine coil. Keep it human, keep it real.
3. I think Adrian Peterson, the Vikings sensational rookie running back for the first three quarters of the season, is going to be a one-hit-wonder. Too many teams have figured out how to shut him down, and since Minnesota is already unable to pass the ball, defenses can, and have, stocked up to stop the run at the point of attack. The truly great running backs can still overcome these smart coaching schemes designed to shut them down. Peterson is not among these backs.
4. Devin Hester isn’t overrated, but his impact is. Again, how long does it take before a kick returner fades into obscurity? Does anyone still remember Dante Hall with Kansas City (now with the Rams) way back from 2004?
5. The Redskins are going to the playoffs. I don’t want to sound heartless, but I do feel that the impact of Sean Taylor’s death has been overly dramatized. I know it’s a touchy subject since he was murdered in mid-season. No doubt it’s a tragedy since Taylor was only 24 when he died, and he seemed to have genuinely changed his life for the better as a result of his daughter being born. Yet, still, I never got a sense that he was that beloved of a player either because of his alleged aloofness, his prior involvement with some unflattering incidents both on and off the field, or the simple fact that he wasn’t far enough into his career to establish much attachment between teammates and fans. However, all that’s happened to Washington since then is that they’ve become the toughest, most determined team in the NFL. And while Todd Collins deserves the 2007 Jim Plunkett Award for career resurrection, one of the most underrated players of the Skins’ resurgence is wide receiver Reche Caldwell. All the guy ever does is come down with incredibly athletic catches two inches before he goes out of bounds. Granted I don’t live in the DC area anymore, but has there even been a whisper this season about the quality of this guy’s play?
6. With the regular season now over, speculation about which NFL coaches will be fired this week will generate plenty of discussion. There are many, many teams in the NFL who could use a new head coach, though I don’t see a rash of firings happening right now despite this. Even though some of these teams are playoff bound, these are the organizations that I believe could justifiably let their current head coaches go.
NY Jets
Pittsburgh
Denver
Kansas City
San Diego
Baltimore Brian Billick fired on 12/31/07
Cincinnati
NY Giants
Philadelphia
Chicago
Detroit
Minnesota
Atlanta
Carolina
St. Louis
San Francisco
I’ve refrained from adding Oakland, Miami and Arizona to the list since their head coaches are only in their first year and need more time before their effectiveness can be assessed. New Orleans is by far the most disappointing team in the NFL this season, but my gut simply chalks this down to being an off year for Sean Payton. I feel somewhat the same way about the Jets as well, but there were some extremely questionable coaching decisions made by Eric Mangini that can’t be overlooked. I don’t think his job is in jeopardy right now, I’m just saying he could be fired, as could a number of his brethren on the list. I realize that perhaps the most surprising team on that list is Pittsburgh, especially since they won their division and Mike Tomlin is a first year head coach. Like much of America, I often find myself rooting for the Steelers in most cases, but I really don’t think they’re that good of a team. The statistics conceal that the Steelers’ “winning” record of 10-6 could have been 12-4 or 13-3 had it not been for Mike Tomlin’s poor preparation in what should have been winnable games. In fact, I think much of the credit for Pittsburgh going as far as they did goes to Ben Roethlisberger’s improvisational skills of turning busted plays into positive gains. That said, I have feeling that Mike Tomlin is a bad seed that could set the Steelers back at least five years if they’re not careful. And with Pittsburgh’s historical stance of showing extreme patience and support for their head coaches (I mean, Mike Tomlin is only the third head coach the Steelers have had in my lifetime), this team could be in a downward spiral while much of their talent gets squandered in the process. Rooney family, you’ve been warned.
The reason why I don’t see much turnover with these head coaching positions is that the usual farming grounds for recruiting NFL head coaches are in the midst of an extreme famine. The most traditional route for finding talent is hiring a hot shot coordinator from another team. However, all the current “hot shot” coordinators seem to be previously failed head coaches like Marty Morhinweg, Mike Martz, Gregg Williams and Al Saunders that are stale and unwanted. In fact, I’m not sure how “hot” these guys really are, but how many other coordinators can anyone really think of? Sure, Dallas’ Jason Garrett is probably the first name that comes to mind, though it’s pretty obvious he’s the heir apparent once Jerry Jones decides to throw Wade Phillips under the bus. On the other side of the spectrum, you have a bunch of young, unknown, up-and-comers that show promise, but lack the experience to carry a team just yet. Oakland’s Lane Kiffin is one of those potential wunderkids that unfortunately might have been picked before he was ripe. So with coordinator bag being so light, the next most obvious place to pluck talent from is the NCAA. But considering the recent fiascos involving Steve Spurrier, Nick Saban and Bobby Petrino, the last thing any NFL GM wants to do is import that kind of cancer from a major college program. So who’s left? Jim Fassel? Marty Schottenheimer? Steve Mariucci? With such slim pickings, one can see how guys like Scott Linehan and Herm Edwards could remain employed for at least another year.
7. Giants back-up tight end, Kevin Boss, has quickly made many forget about Jeremy Shockey.
8. Jacksonville will be the most dreaded AFC team to face in the playoffs besides New England.
9. And as much as I hate to admit it, Washington will be the most dreaded NFC team to face in the playoffs…period. This team, really, really, wants it.
10. On a final non football note, I think the soon-to-be-released film, “The Bucket List”, looks like a God-awful schlockfest that neither, Jack Nicholson, Morgan Freeman or producer/director Rob Reiner needs a paycheck from. From the trailers, this flick simply appears to be ersatz “Grumpy Old Men” with more stunts. One has to wonder who bit first, Morgan Freeman or Jack Nicholson. My guess is that Morgan Freeman took the bait on this project first since his son, Alfonso Freeman, is also cast in this movie and wanted to help launch his career before…ahem…kicking the bucket himself. As for Jack Nicholson, it looks like he’s yet again playing the curmudgeony misanthrope who likes to run over squirrels while driving. Look, Jack, a little career advice, play something else man. I mean, if Clint Eastwood can show his tender side in “The Bridges of Madison County" then so can you. You’re getting predicable buddy, and the last thing you want to do is finish your career in such ignominious fashion.
HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE…
OCTAVIO
Monday, December 31, 2007
Monday, December 03, 2007
YOU MEAN...THEY WON????
It was a game of two maligned quarterbacks. One who was benched for a good portion of the season and started playing better, the other was in the midst of his third season as a starter and playing worse. Both teams were vying for a Wild Card berth in the mediocre NFC, yet both have a knack for getting in their own way at the worst times. One team came off a huge comeback win in overtime the week before, the other was reeling from one of their most desultory performances in the last decade. Somebody had to win, and in this case it was the Giants by a score of 21-16.
Considering how poorly the Giants played (or perhaps existed would be a better word) last week against Minnesota, traveling to Soldier Field in early December didn’t exactly provide the best palette for painting a comeback picture. For years, the Giants have had one of the most brittle psyches in all of sports, so bouncing back after delivering a healthy dose of fodder to the New York media seemed like a daunting task. And just when the situation begged for a major purge in 2008, the Giants pull off a fourth quarter road win in Chicago. In many ways, rooting for the Giants is like a wife finally having the courage to ask for a divorce, only to then have her husband donate a kidney to save her dying father. Fewer teams make it so hateful to love them; you’d think Shakespeare could have written a play about this.
You can say that any game in the NFL is a must win, but this was one the Giants really needed. And while it would be a bit of a stretch to call them frauds, their credibility and respectability had taken a steep dive in recent weeks. The Giants have stayed atop by feeding like hyenas off such lifeless clubs as Atlanta, San Francisco and the Jets. But as soon as anyone decent, or even showing signs of ascending progress came to town, the Giants would fold like the proverbial lawn chair. Seemed that many weren’t so much looking for rays of hope when the Giants played Chicago, as they were seeking confirmation that their team was just a shell of an organization who only thrived off the league’s scrap heap. You have to love a fan base that looks for reasons as to why they shouldn’t root for you. Clearly this game was a colossal disappointment for millions of Giant fans.
Eli Manning (16/27, 195 YDS, 1TD,2INT) however, will still keep the naysayers chirping for another week. Though it would be an almost preternatural feat if he were able to out-suck his play from the week before, Manning still did enough to provide snippets of an encore performance. The two most noteworthy mistakes were interceptions thrown to Brian Urlacher and Charles Tillman. The former occurred less than two minutes into the opening sequence of the game, resulting in an efficiently run touchdown drive by Rex Grossman (25/46, 296 YDS, 1 TD, 0 INT) to put the Bears up 7-0. The latter snuffed out a 14 play drive in the end zone after chewing up nearly half of the third quarter. Both did much to curtail the Giants momentum, but the defense rarely let up.
Playing without Aaron Ross and Gibril Wilson in the secondary, the Giants defense bent but never broke against the Bears. Knowing that their secondary, even when healthy, is not always able to cover, the Giants resorted to the old game plan of rushing the quarterback hard and heavy. This didn’t happen right away, not until the Giants got the scare -- and the break -- of their lives when Devin Hester had a guaranteed touchdown pass bounce right off his shoulder pad to go incomplete. From there the Giants really put the press on the line of scrimmage, always seeming to get that big sack at the most opportune time. Justin Tuck, as predicted a few years ago, has clearly emerged as one the Giants most formidable pass rushing threats.
Offensively, despite fumbling the ball that resulted in a Chicago score, Derrick Ward (24/154, 1 TD) offered a bruising blend of hard up-the-middle running mixed with bursts of speed to the outside. Unfortunately, he was not able to finish the game because of an ankle injury. Again, this poses concerns about the durability of the Giants backfield, as all season long the Giants have had to rotate backs in and out of the line-up due to injury. As for other solid offensive play, the “under-the-radar” award for this week goes to Giants fullback Madison Hedgecock, who made key blocks at critical times all day long. Hedgecock has shown both speed and brawn in his blocking; not to mention great vision. At times he resembles a pulling guard, sprinting to the end of the line to kick out the defensive end. In other situations, Hedgecock shows his patience by waiting for the play to develop, quickly finding the defender with the best pursuit angle, and getting to him…fast. Hedgecock’s value will certainly rise as the season winds down, especially since the Giants will see more and more blitzing schemes with their passing attack hampered by injuries.
The Giants have another road game next week against Philadelphia. Perhaps the only team in the NFL more erratic than the Giants right now is the Eagles, so predicting the outcome of this one could be anyone’s guess. The Eagles could be high and mighty next week if Donovan McNabb is back. The Eagles could be God-freaking awful if Donovan McNabb is back. Go ahead, roll the dice, this one could go either way. As with most of these streaky teams, it usually boils down to special teams anyway. The biggest story about Devin Hester Sunday was that he was a non story. Add in the frigid temperatures that have finally arrived this winter, and this could be another one of those games of attrition rather than the classic knife fight these teams often bring to the table. If that’s the case, than expect another disappointing week Giants fans, Big Blue just might play irritatingly well enough to win this one too.
Considering how poorly the Giants played (or perhaps existed would be a better word) last week against Minnesota, traveling to Soldier Field in early December didn’t exactly provide the best palette for painting a comeback picture. For years, the Giants have had one of the most brittle psyches in all of sports, so bouncing back after delivering a healthy dose of fodder to the New York media seemed like a daunting task. And just when the situation begged for a major purge in 2008, the Giants pull off a fourth quarter road win in Chicago. In many ways, rooting for the Giants is like a wife finally having the courage to ask for a divorce, only to then have her husband donate a kidney to save her dying father. Fewer teams make it so hateful to love them; you’d think Shakespeare could have written a play about this.
You can say that any game in the NFL is a must win, but this was one the Giants really needed. And while it would be a bit of a stretch to call them frauds, their credibility and respectability had taken a steep dive in recent weeks. The Giants have stayed atop by feeding like hyenas off such lifeless clubs as Atlanta, San Francisco and the Jets. But as soon as anyone decent, or even showing signs of ascending progress came to town, the Giants would fold like the proverbial lawn chair. Seemed that many weren’t so much looking for rays of hope when the Giants played Chicago, as they were seeking confirmation that their team was just a shell of an organization who only thrived off the league’s scrap heap. You have to love a fan base that looks for reasons as to why they shouldn’t root for you. Clearly this game was a colossal disappointment for millions of Giant fans.
Eli Manning (16/27, 195 YDS, 1TD,2INT) however, will still keep the naysayers chirping for another week. Though it would be an almost preternatural feat if he were able to out-suck his play from the week before, Manning still did enough to provide snippets of an encore performance. The two most noteworthy mistakes were interceptions thrown to Brian Urlacher and Charles Tillman. The former occurred less than two minutes into the opening sequence of the game, resulting in an efficiently run touchdown drive by Rex Grossman (25/46, 296 YDS, 1 TD, 0 INT) to put the Bears up 7-0. The latter snuffed out a 14 play drive in the end zone after chewing up nearly half of the third quarter. Both did much to curtail the Giants momentum, but the defense rarely let up.
Playing without Aaron Ross and Gibril Wilson in the secondary, the Giants defense bent but never broke against the Bears. Knowing that their secondary, even when healthy, is not always able to cover, the Giants resorted to the old game plan of rushing the quarterback hard and heavy. This didn’t happen right away, not until the Giants got the scare -- and the break -- of their lives when Devin Hester had a guaranteed touchdown pass bounce right off his shoulder pad to go incomplete. From there the Giants really put the press on the line of scrimmage, always seeming to get that big sack at the most opportune time. Justin Tuck, as predicted a few years ago, has clearly emerged as one the Giants most formidable pass rushing threats.
Offensively, despite fumbling the ball that resulted in a Chicago score, Derrick Ward (24/154, 1 TD) offered a bruising blend of hard up-the-middle running mixed with bursts of speed to the outside. Unfortunately, he was not able to finish the game because of an ankle injury. Again, this poses concerns about the durability of the Giants backfield, as all season long the Giants have had to rotate backs in and out of the line-up due to injury. As for other solid offensive play, the “under-the-radar” award for this week goes to Giants fullback Madison Hedgecock, who made key blocks at critical times all day long. Hedgecock has shown both speed and brawn in his blocking; not to mention great vision. At times he resembles a pulling guard, sprinting to the end of the line to kick out the defensive end. In other situations, Hedgecock shows his patience by waiting for the play to develop, quickly finding the defender with the best pursuit angle, and getting to him…fast. Hedgecock’s value will certainly rise as the season winds down, especially since the Giants will see more and more blitzing schemes with their passing attack hampered by injuries.
The Giants have another road game next week against Philadelphia. Perhaps the only team in the NFL more erratic than the Giants right now is the Eagles, so predicting the outcome of this one could be anyone’s guess. The Eagles could be high and mighty next week if Donovan McNabb is back. The Eagles could be God-freaking awful if Donovan McNabb is back. Go ahead, roll the dice, this one could go either way. As with most of these streaky teams, it usually boils down to special teams anyway. The biggest story about Devin Hester Sunday was that he was a non story. Add in the frigid temperatures that have finally arrived this winter, and this could be another one of those games of attrition rather than the classic knife fight these teams often bring to the table. If that’s the case, than expect another disappointing week Giants fans, Big Blue just might play irritatingly well enough to win this one too.
Monday, November 26, 2007
ENOUGH ELI
Seems that every time the Giants play Minnesota it’s either a game of giveth or taketh. In one game the Giants are the fearsome drubber. The next they’re the dreadful drubbee. Seldom is there ever a gray area when these two teams meet. As for Sunday’s 41-17 thrashing at the Meadowlands, the Vikings could have been shouting “Valhalla” by the second play of the game.
We’ve seen this so much in the Fassel-Coughlin era, the Giants first showing such promise only to follow up the next week as utter duds. Though the Giants 16-10 victory in Detroit the week before wasn’t the most convincing of wins, it was at least enough to show that they could beat another team in playoff contention. So here come the visiting Vikings; supposedly an even lesser foe than the fast fading Lions, yet the Giants, as they have for the past ten years or so, show once more that they’re the most bipolar team in the NFL. Sure, the Giants have let games slip away; the playoff collapse in San Francisco five years ago will still take an entire generation to shake off. Heck, they’ve even let seasons slip away…but not this time. This time it will finally be different. As cynical as the Big Blue faithful are, there’s still a wide eyed belief that any team can still be beat.
That said, there is something about Sunday’s loss that cuts deeper than the fact that the Giants completely failed to show up. That they again -- in a supposedly fourth season under the “disciplinarian” reign of Tom Coughlin -- got called for stupid penalties, couldn’t tackle, catch, or run correct patterns. What cuts deeper about this game is that it marks the official point where Eli Manning’s pendulum has swung to the side of being a bust. Better said, two, five or ten years down the road, when the dust finally settles on whether or not Manning was the real deal or not, the point where hope truly faded will be traced to this game. Nobody expected a Manning miracle, at least not right away. There’s been plenty of data to show that Eli, at this stage in his career, is roughly at the same point where brother Peyton was with his career in Indianapolis; we know, we know, we know. But there was something about Peyton that showed some fire, determination and commitment to make the once moribund Indianapolis Colts into a winner. By New York standards, lots of patience has been shown with Eli. We’ve seen rookie Eli, first-year-as-a-starter Eli, that’s-why-we-gave-a-king’s-ransom-to-San Diego Eli, and fire Ernie Accorsi Eli. He’s made miracle comebacks as much as he’s given games away (though the latter seems to be what’s best remembered). We’ve sampled all the combinations this Chinese menu of a quarterback has to offer, but now we’re feeling the after affects of MSG.
For the record, Manning tied his career worst with four interceptions Sunday of which three (Darren Sharper 20 yards, Dwight Smith 93 yards and Chad Greenway 37 yards) were returned for touchdowns; indirectly becoming the Vikings top scorer while only throwing one TD pass to Plaxico Burress in a garbage time score. Afterwards Manning said, “They just had a good plan. They made plays when we didn’t. I didn’t play real well. I kept turning the ball over. They just outperformed us and they made a lot of good plays.”
And that’s where the concern lies. No so much that Manning stunk up the joint, but this perennial nonchalantness, this aw shucks attitude, this filling station goofball who pliantly asks if it’s OK to check the oil. In the past, when Manning was first getting broken into the league, his demeanor was positively spun as “unflappable” and “even keeled”. This is fine in a September match-up against the Arizona Cardinals, but with December looming, in his third full year as a starter, against a mediocre opponent at home, it’s time to step up and win…period. Enough of the drawling euphemisms. Seems that Manning is nothing more than a wealthy doll that says “I just got to make more plays” whenever the string in his back is pulled. We don’t expect Manning to take some magic pill and start snapping wet towels against the backsides of his teammates, but we do expect some fire. Thus far, Eli Manning’s approach to quarterbacking the New York Giants seems as much of a rote exercise as a cube dweller waiting for 5 O’clock. We’ve allowed a certain threshold for this “franchise quarterback” to settle into his groove, but time is up now. The pendulum has swung…
With the playoff picture starting to shape up, one would hope that the Giants would not choose the more difficult road, but alas, they have yet again. Next week the Giants travel to Soldier Field to play a very psyched up Chicago team who pulled off a huge comeback win Sunday against Denver. The week after, they’re at “The Linc” against a resurgent Philadelphia team who just gave New England their biggest scare of the season. After a six game winning streak earlier in the season, one would finally hope the Giants would be in pole position for a Wild Card berth. But these are the Giants, and this may be our quarterback for a long, long, time.
We’ve seen this so much in the Fassel-Coughlin era, the Giants first showing such promise only to follow up the next week as utter duds. Though the Giants 16-10 victory in Detroit the week before wasn’t the most convincing of wins, it was at least enough to show that they could beat another team in playoff contention. So here come the visiting Vikings; supposedly an even lesser foe than the fast fading Lions, yet the Giants, as they have for the past ten years or so, show once more that they’re the most bipolar team in the NFL. Sure, the Giants have let games slip away; the playoff collapse in San Francisco five years ago will still take an entire generation to shake off. Heck, they’ve even let seasons slip away…but not this time. This time it will finally be different. As cynical as the Big Blue faithful are, there’s still a wide eyed belief that any team can still be beat.
That said, there is something about Sunday’s loss that cuts deeper than the fact that the Giants completely failed to show up. That they again -- in a supposedly fourth season under the “disciplinarian” reign of Tom Coughlin -- got called for stupid penalties, couldn’t tackle, catch, or run correct patterns. What cuts deeper about this game is that it marks the official point where Eli Manning’s pendulum has swung to the side of being a bust. Better said, two, five or ten years down the road, when the dust finally settles on whether or not Manning was the real deal or not, the point where hope truly faded will be traced to this game. Nobody expected a Manning miracle, at least not right away. There’s been plenty of data to show that Eli, at this stage in his career, is roughly at the same point where brother Peyton was with his career in Indianapolis; we know, we know, we know. But there was something about Peyton that showed some fire, determination and commitment to make the once moribund Indianapolis Colts into a winner. By New York standards, lots of patience has been shown with Eli. We’ve seen rookie Eli, first-year-as-a-starter Eli, that’s-why-we-gave-a-king’s-ransom-to-San Diego Eli, and fire Ernie Accorsi Eli. He’s made miracle comebacks as much as he’s given games away (though the latter seems to be what’s best remembered). We’ve sampled all the combinations this Chinese menu of a quarterback has to offer, but now we’re feeling the after affects of MSG.
For the record, Manning tied his career worst with four interceptions Sunday of which three (Darren Sharper 20 yards, Dwight Smith 93 yards and Chad Greenway 37 yards) were returned for touchdowns; indirectly becoming the Vikings top scorer while only throwing one TD pass to Plaxico Burress in a garbage time score. Afterwards Manning said, “They just had a good plan. They made plays when we didn’t. I didn’t play real well. I kept turning the ball over. They just outperformed us and they made a lot of good plays.”
And that’s where the concern lies. No so much that Manning stunk up the joint, but this perennial nonchalantness, this aw shucks attitude, this filling station goofball who pliantly asks if it’s OK to check the oil. In the past, when Manning was first getting broken into the league, his demeanor was positively spun as “unflappable” and “even keeled”. This is fine in a September match-up against the Arizona Cardinals, but with December looming, in his third full year as a starter, against a mediocre opponent at home, it’s time to step up and win…period. Enough of the drawling euphemisms. Seems that Manning is nothing more than a wealthy doll that says “I just got to make more plays” whenever the string in his back is pulled. We don’t expect Manning to take some magic pill and start snapping wet towels against the backsides of his teammates, but we do expect some fire. Thus far, Eli Manning’s approach to quarterbacking the New York Giants seems as much of a rote exercise as a cube dweller waiting for 5 O’clock. We’ve allowed a certain threshold for this “franchise quarterback” to settle into his groove, but time is up now. The pendulum has swung…
With the playoff picture starting to shape up, one would hope that the Giants would not choose the more difficult road, but alas, they have yet again. Next week the Giants travel to Soldier Field to play a very psyched up Chicago team who pulled off a huge comeback win Sunday against Denver. The week after, they’re at “The Linc” against a resurgent Philadelphia team who just gave New England their biggest scare of the season. After a six game winning streak earlier in the season, one would finally hope the Giants would be in pole position for a Wild Card berth. But these are the Giants, and this may be our quarterback for a long, long, time.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
JET LAGGED JINTS SURVIVE FUTILE FISH
With the exception of the history that was made by the NFL playing its first ever regular season game in Europe, there were few memorable things that could be taken from the Giants’ 13-10 win over Miami. As far as this new initiative with transcontinental competition goes, the NFL, at least this time around, exported a game that perhaps could have been outpaced by glacial meltdown.
In much of the same way a productive salesman has to break from his routine to work a tradeshow in Las Vegas, the notion of playing football in England felt more like a contractual obligation than a passionately primal way to earn a living. That said, the Giants in bland, often sloppy, workmanlike fashion did just enough to survive a game with three more points than their winless adversary. Now it’s time for the Giants to go home, but at least they’re coming home 6-2.
Not surprisingly, London provided a meteorologically appropriate welcome with plenty of rain and a thick “pitch”, which provided nice, muddy uniforms that we turf-raised American fans have all but forgotten. However, because of these limiting conditions, the purportedly raucous crowd of 90,000 got a first-hand look at what’s euphemistically known as a “ball control offense”. Better said, it was a game of hand-offs, incomplete passes, and a flag-happy officiating crew that’s now made referee, Gerry Austin, an international celebrity. Add in the fact that Miami’s injury report is now longer than Pacman Jones’ rap sheet, and you have all the ingredients for what should later be known as Yawn Bowl I.
If anyone had an exciting afternoon, it was Brandon Jacobs who ran for a career high of 131 yards. This is finally the Brandon Jacobs that those hailing in Giantdom have been patiently waiting for. When Jacobs is on his game, and the Giants offensive line gelling, the Giants running attack can roll over just about any opponent with Blitzkrieg belligerence. Though despite this, there’s still plenty of trepidation every time he touches the ball. No doubt his 264 pound frame brings relief to defenders once they see he’s running to the opposite side of the field they’re covering, yet Jacob’s durability still comes into question. As of the conclusion of Sunday’s game, there were no injuries to report on Jacobs. Still though, once can’t help but feel that hinging the running game on Brandon Jacobs is like entering a rally race with an armored Fiat.
Come Monday, it’s likely that much of the sports punditry will attack this Giant victory. Much of what’s plagued the Giants in the first three years of the Coughlin regime seemed to rear its ugly head in London; especially in the second half. For most of the first half, the Giants kept control of the game in an effective, albeit milquetoast fashion of running the ball. However, as soon as the third quarter opened up, the Giants abandoned their game plan by passing the ball. One has to wonder if there was some sort of entertainer’s burden to get the English crowd exited; maybe a tap on the door from Commission Goodell, as if trying to inflict some sort of comic relief during Macbeth’s soliloquy. No doubt there was a noticeable rise in the decibel level every time the ball was thrown, but since when should that become a priority? As soon as the running game shifted to the back burner, Miami found new life in the way of creating two turnovers off passing plays. Not good.
More concerning was the rash of stupid penalties, particularly early in the fourth quarter, where perhaps Luke Petitgout was thought to have rejoined the team in order to see London for free. At one point the Giants were even facing a third and 33, with the kicker being the ultimate in bonehead penalties of getting called for an illegal substitution. In another situation, Antonio Pierce, the Giants’ de facto defensive leader, was called for a late hit; making for his third personal foul penalty in the last two games. Again, debate will surely spawn of whether or not the Giants are slipping back to their undisciplined ways, or if it’s nothing more than just sleepwalking through a long business trip and feeling ready to get home.
And with those penalties, the Giants too will be called out for their shoddy tackling. Cornerback Sam Madison was by far the most noteworthy culprit, who must have had both his arms fail to get through customs at Heathrow airport; thus using his upper torso to hopefully impede the ball carrier. Pilots don’t always have to fly perfectly in order to get everyone on the ground in one piece. And with that, one could say it was a turbulent flight for the Giants D, though ultimately ending with a safe arrival. Sometimes that’s the best you’re going to get when playing five time zones away in the rain.
The Giants will now have two weeks to shake off the jet lag and get ready for Dallas. Though watching the film of this game will likely be as tedious as the long flight home (or the game itself), it’s likely to just be cast off as “that London game.” At least they better hope so… November football is here.
In much of the same way a productive salesman has to break from his routine to work a tradeshow in Las Vegas, the notion of playing football in England felt more like a contractual obligation than a passionately primal way to earn a living. That said, the Giants in bland, often sloppy, workmanlike fashion did just enough to survive a game with three more points than their winless adversary. Now it’s time for the Giants to go home, but at least they’re coming home 6-2.
Not surprisingly, London provided a meteorologically appropriate welcome with plenty of rain and a thick “pitch”, which provided nice, muddy uniforms that we turf-raised American fans have all but forgotten. However, because of these limiting conditions, the purportedly raucous crowd of 90,000 got a first-hand look at what’s euphemistically known as a “ball control offense”. Better said, it was a game of hand-offs, incomplete passes, and a flag-happy officiating crew that’s now made referee, Gerry Austin, an international celebrity. Add in the fact that Miami’s injury report is now longer than Pacman Jones’ rap sheet, and you have all the ingredients for what should later be known as Yawn Bowl I.
If anyone had an exciting afternoon, it was Brandon Jacobs who ran for a career high of 131 yards. This is finally the Brandon Jacobs that those hailing in Giantdom have been patiently waiting for. When Jacobs is on his game, and the Giants offensive line gelling, the Giants running attack can roll over just about any opponent with Blitzkrieg belligerence. Though despite this, there’s still plenty of trepidation every time he touches the ball. No doubt his 264 pound frame brings relief to defenders once they see he’s running to the opposite side of the field they’re covering, yet Jacob’s durability still comes into question. As of the conclusion of Sunday’s game, there were no injuries to report on Jacobs. Still though, once can’t help but feel that hinging the running game on Brandon Jacobs is like entering a rally race with an armored Fiat.
Come Monday, it’s likely that much of the sports punditry will attack this Giant victory. Much of what’s plagued the Giants in the first three years of the Coughlin regime seemed to rear its ugly head in London; especially in the second half. For most of the first half, the Giants kept control of the game in an effective, albeit milquetoast fashion of running the ball. However, as soon as the third quarter opened up, the Giants abandoned their game plan by passing the ball. One has to wonder if there was some sort of entertainer’s burden to get the English crowd exited; maybe a tap on the door from Commission Goodell, as if trying to inflict some sort of comic relief during Macbeth’s soliloquy. No doubt there was a noticeable rise in the decibel level every time the ball was thrown, but since when should that become a priority? As soon as the running game shifted to the back burner, Miami found new life in the way of creating two turnovers off passing plays. Not good.
More concerning was the rash of stupid penalties, particularly early in the fourth quarter, where perhaps Luke Petitgout was thought to have rejoined the team in order to see London for free. At one point the Giants were even facing a third and 33, with the kicker being the ultimate in bonehead penalties of getting called for an illegal substitution. In another situation, Antonio Pierce, the Giants’ de facto defensive leader, was called for a late hit; making for his third personal foul penalty in the last two games. Again, debate will surely spawn of whether or not the Giants are slipping back to their undisciplined ways, or if it’s nothing more than just sleepwalking through a long business trip and feeling ready to get home.
And with those penalties, the Giants too will be called out for their shoddy tackling. Cornerback Sam Madison was by far the most noteworthy culprit, who must have had both his arms fail to get through customs at Heathrow airport; thus using his upper torso to hopefully impede the ball carrier. Pilots don’t always have to fly perfectly in order to get everyone on the ground in one piece. And with that, one could say it was a turbulent flight for the Giants D, though ultimately ending with a safe arrival. Sometimes that’s the best you’re going to get when playing five time zones away in the rain.
The Giants will now have two weeks to shake off the jet lag and get ready for Dallas. Though watching the film of this game will likely be as tedious as the long flight home (or the game itself), it’s likely to just be cast off as “that London game.” At least they better hope so… November football is here.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
HOME FOR SUPER BOWL XLI
As Super Bowls go, Sunday’s showdown between Chicago and Indianapolis was hardly memorable. Super Bowl XLI, Miami, almost sounds like a trade show that everyone dreads attending. And it rained as well, which made for sloppy play, where both teams refused to take a game from an opponent so eager to give it away. One thing about the NFL though, is that they are consistently prompt. But being that it was the Super Bowl, I figured that a 6:25 kick-off time really meant 6:32. For years the National Anthem has been part of the show, which in this period of inflicted patriotism, is often punctuated by a squadron of F-16’s roaring overhead. Then there’s the coin toss, which, again, can take a few minutes if the commemorative coin is delivered via bald eagle or parachuting Green Baret. This year it came with minimal fanfare as Dan Marino brought out the coin with remarkable efficiency. Too efficient for me however…
In my pledge to remain sequestered from Super Bowl hype this year, I avoided all the milquetoast pre-game schlock, and spent the preceding hours enjoying the Ghost Hunters marathon on the Sci Fi Channel instead. I’ve taken a particular interest in the paranormal lately. For one, I feel like my innate psychic powers have been greatly honed in the past few years. Secondly, I’ve had personal encounters that make me a believer. And lastly, being that I now live in an old Brooklyn neighborhood, and have a blind cat that routinely cries around 3:15 AM every night, I wonder what spirits have me sharing their apartment as well. Naturally, the episode of Ghost Hunters coinciding with the Super Bowl kick-off is a particularly meaty one, and I’m hooked to the end because I just have to see them disclose the evidence of their investigation. I flip to CBS for a second at exactly 6:25…OK, good, Dan Marino and a jittery, first-time Super Bowl referee, Tony Corrente, are gearing up for the coin toss. All should dovetail perfectly with the conclusion Ghost Hunters and the actual kick-off. I flip back to Ghost Hunters to see a murky gray splotch rustling curtains on videotape – very good stuff. I flip back to CBS at 6:31. Chicago is up 7-0. What the hell????
I quickly sensed that it was going to be one of those Super Bowls. You know, the kind that provides comforting white noise while paying the phone bill, sorting through the recyclables, and scooping clumps of cat pee from the litter box. And with my interest already diminished by an opening kick return that I didn’t see, we got onto more pressing matters such as what to have for dinner. We took a pass on pizza, which on Super Bowl Sunday is like going to Philadelphia and ordering a chicken cheesesteak. But so be it, as New Yorkers we take pride in having a myriad of food choices at our disposal. So as the teams kept turning the ball over, my wife and I went through the heaping stack of take-out menus kept in a designated drawer. It’s goes like this:
“You want Thai?”
“Jesus, where’s the pass protection…what?”
“Thai?”
“For the Super Bowl? C’mon…” I reply.
“Well you didn’t want pizza”.
“How about Indian?” I suggest.
“For the Super Bowl? C’mon…”
This went on for a possession or two until we decided to order burritos from a Tex Mex joint neither of us had tried before. My wife took the helm with placing the call. She’s a great qualifier in terms of getting their size, dimensions, ingredients and price; as we all know that not all burritos are the same. She relays the breakdown to me, where we jointly hash out the pros and cons of this major purchasing decision.
We decided to go for it. Still, the game is barely five minutes old.
Twenty minutes later the buzzer rings, where I spring off the couch and hump the air in knowing that dinner is but two staircases away. By now the Colts were moving the ball pretty well. My wife opens the door where an Indian or Pakistani kid of about 17 years holds two bags of food. “Wow, is that all for us?,” she asks. I could see the look on his face. It’s the of look of being confronted with a problem, which up to this moment was previously unknown, and thus, would have appreciated it if we helped him keep it that way. He looks at me; I just shrug because I don’t want to get into problem solving mode while the Super Bowl is played. I delegate this matter to my wife, Ellen, by suddenly taking great interest in what the Colts do next. She starts dissecting the contents of the bags: “wings, tacos…more tacos,” she says, as if doing the annual inventory at K-Mart. It didn’t take a super sleuth to realize that this kid was missing the other delivery ticket. Seeing all this food sprawled on the floor, I now take less interest in what the Colts are doing and join the cats with inspecting the edible goods. They start pawing the plastic bags before Ellen can shoo them away. I get another look from the kid. He’s clearly indicating that his life would be much easier if we just took all the food and paid him what we owed. After all, it wasn’t his fault that the restaurant botched the orders, and besides, why not get two meals for the price of one? I respond, this time with a more sympathetic shrug that lets him know I’m on board with his thinking, however, since my wife just performed autopsies on these two bags, we’re committed to getting this resolved.
“You got the phone number for the restaurant?” the kid asks.
“Don’t you?” I say, adding my voice to this crippled exchange for the first time.
He looks at the ticket, for some inexplicable reason there’s no phone number on it, nor does he have extra menus to hand out. Since when does a business in New York fail to promote itself? He threw it back our way about having the phone number. After all, we didn’t order the food via messenger pigeon, surely we must have it somewhere. Which we did of course, though it meant sifting through the Yellow Pages…again. I could see the gears turning in his head; we should have taken the deal he telepathically offered us a moment ago. Wasn’t all this phone book nonsense a pain in ass? And by the way, you just missed a magnificent 53-yard touchdown pass to Reggie Wayne. What????
My interest in the game just sank further; particularly now after missing that play as well. Nevertheless, we find the number while two homophobes endorse Snickers bars from a garage. “Do you have a phone,” the kid asks. I figured, if the kid doesn’t have the phone number for his place of employ, why would he have a cell phone either? Who knows, perhaps it might come in handy in case he’s got the wrong address, especially on a night where the outside temperatures finally gave us something in common with the Midwest. “Here you go,” I say while handing him my cell phone. Not that I have a choice or anything, it’s not like I’m going to send him down to the corner payphone and catch hypothermia. I mean, as obtrusive as this transaction had become, I hadn’t forgotten what it’s like to be 17. Ellen reads him the number from the Yellow Pages. He’s made himself quite comfortable while locating the phantom recipient who’s dinner still rests on our floor…would you like to take a hot bath? Though a moment later his aggravation starts to resonate, tracking down tacos like a lost Mother’s Day bouquet. Ellen and I look at each other wondering why this was so complicated. Seeing the way he got bounced around, you’d think he was seeking Windows tech support or something. Now the kid starts spewing expletives as the ensuing kickoff gets underway. He’s getting a little too comfortable. And while I can relate to his predicament, it’s time for him to get going. I give him the universal twirl-of-the-index-finger sign that says wrap it up baby. He gets the hint, though I have to remind him that the cell phone he’s holding still belongs to me. It’s an honest mistake, like when you pocket a pen someone’s just lent you, yet before leaving, he gives us a ranting diatribe about what a “f—king dickhead” his boss is. I refrained from telling him that he’s likely to be the first of many, as I believe it’s best to learn those hard knocks on your own. Now they’re calling him back to the restaurant, clearly something has gone very much awry. Still though, we tipped him four bucks anyway…just because. Even food delivery comes with panache in Brooklyn.
At this point I don’t recall what the score was. Our burritos were a little cold and the refried beans had morphed into spackling putty, but they still had plenty of flavor, and flavor is key. By now, the Super Bowl was simply about savoring the last morsel of football season hoping, as I do each Sunday night, that the weekend will hang around just a little longer. Like every Super Bowl, this game will be boiled down to a few plays then looped incessantly during the fortnight before the Big Game in the years to come. As for SB XLI, Ellen went to bed shortly after what’s-his-name from Indy ran Rex Grossman’s interception back for a touchdown. I at least hung around to the end while wet confetti extinguished the final embers of the 2006 season. Out, out, brief candle…it was soon time to hit the sack myself.
In my pledge to remain sequestered from Super Bowl hype this year, I avoided all the milquetoast pre-game schlock, and spent the preceding hours enjoying the Ghost Hunters marathon on the Sci Fi Channel instead. I’ve taken a particular interest in the paranormal lately. For one, I feel like my innate psychic powers have been greatly honed in the past few years. Secondly, I’ve had personal encounters that make me a believer. And lastly, being that I now live in an old Brooklyn neighborhood, and have a blind cat that routinely cries around 3:15 AM every night, I wonder what spirits have me sharing their apartment as well. Naturally, the episode of Ghost Hunters coinciding with the Super Bowl kick-off is a particularly meaty one, and I’m hooked to the end because I just have to see them disclose the evidence of their investigation. I flip to CBS for a second at exactly 6:25…OK, good, Dan Marino and a jittery, first-time Super Bowl referee, Tony Corrente, are gearing up for the coin toss. All should dovetail perfectly with the conclusion Ghost Hunters and the actual kick-off. I flip back to Ghost Hunters to see a murky gray splotch rustling curtains on videotape – very good stuff. I flip back to CBS at 6:31. Chicago is up 7-0. What the hell????
I quickly sensed that it was going to be one of those Super Bowls. You know, the kind that provides comforting white noise while paying the phone bill, sorting through the recyclables, and scooping clumps of cat pee from the litter box. And with my interest already diminished by an opening kick return that I didn’t see, we got onto more pressing matters such as what to have for dinner. We took a pass on pizza, which on Super Bowl Sunday is like going to Philadelphia and ordering a chicken cheesesteak. But so be it, as New Yorkers we take pride in having a myriad of food choices at our disposal. So as the teams kept turning the ball over, my wife and I went through the heaping stack of take-out menus kept in a designated drawer. It’s goes like this:
“You want Thai?”
“Jesus, where’s the pass protection…what?”
“Thai?”
“For the Super Bowl? C’mon…” I reply.
“Well you didn’t want pizza”.
“How about Indian?” I suggest.
“For the Super Bowl? C’mon…”
This went on for a possession or two until we decided to order burritos from a Tex Mex joint neither of us had tried before. My wife took the helm with placing the call. She’s a great qualifier in terms of getting their size, dimensions, ingredients and price; as we all know that not all burritos are the same. She relays the breakdown to me, where we jointly hash out the pros and cons of this major purchasing decision.
We decided to go for it. Still, the game is barely five minutes old.
Twenty minutes later the buzzer rings, where I spring off the couch and hump the air in knowing that dinner is but two staircases away. By now the Colts were moving the ball pretty well. My wife opens the door where an Indian or Pakistani kid of about 17 years holds two bags of food. “Wow, is that all for us?,” she asks. I could see the look on his face. It’s the of look of being confronted with a problem, which up to this moment was previously unknown, and thus, would have appreciated it if we helped him keep it that way. He looks at me; I just shrug because I don’t want to get into problem solving mode while the Super Bowl is played. I delegate this matter to my wife, Ellen, by suddenly taking great interest in what the Colts do next. She starts dissecting the contents of the bags: “wings, tacos…more tacos,” she says, as if doing the annual inventory at K-Mart. It didn’t take a super sleuth to realize that this kid was missing the other delivery ticket. Seeing all this food sprawled on the floor, I now take less interest in what the Colts are doing and join the cats with inspecting the edible goods. They start pawing the plastic bags before Ellen can shoo them away. I get another look from the kid. He’s clearly indicating that his life would be much easier if we just took all the food and paid him what we owed. After all, it wasn’t his fault that the restaurant botched the orders, and besides, why not get two meals for the price of one? I respond, this time with a more sympathetic shrug that lets him know I’m on board with his thinking, however, since my wife just performed autopsies on these two bags, we’re committed to getting this resolved.
“You got the phone number for the restaurant?” the kid asks.
“Don’t you?” I say, adding my voice to this crippled exchange for the first time.
He looks at the ticket, for some inexplicable reason there’s no phone number on it, nor does he have extra menus to hand out. Since when does a business in New York fail to promote itself? He threw it back our way about having the phone number. After all, we didn’t order the food via messenger pigeon, surely we must have it somewhere. Which we did of course, though it meant sifting through the Yellow Pages…again. I could see the gears turning in his head; we should have taken the deal he telepathically offered us a moment ago. Wasn’t all this phone book nonsense a pain in ass? And by the way, you just missed a magnificent 53-yard touchdown pass to Reggie Wayne. What????
My interest in the game just sank further; particularly now after missing that play as well. Nevertheless, we find the number while two homophobes endorse Snickers bars from a garage. “Do you have a phone,” the kid asks. I figured, if the kid doesn’t have the phone number for his place of employ, why would he have a cell phone either? Who knows, perhaps it might come in handy in case he’s got the wrong address, especially on a night where the outside temperatures finally gave us something in common with the Midwest. “Here you go,” I say while handing him my cell phone. Not that I have a choice or anything, it’s not like I’m going to send him down to the corner payphone and catch hypothermia. I mean, as obtrusive as this transaction had become, I hadn’t forgotten what it’s like to be 17. Ellen reads him the number from the Yellow Pages. He’s made himself quite comfortable while locating the phantom recipient who’s dinner still rests on our floor…would you like to take a hot bath? Though a moment later his aggravation starts to resonate, tracking down tacos like a lost Mother’s Day bouquet. Ellen and I look at each other wondering why this was so complicated. Seeing the way he got bounced around, you’d think he was seeking Windows tech support or something. Now the kid starts spewing expletives as the ensuing kickoff gets underway. He’s getting a little too comfortable. And while I can relate to his predicament, it’s time for him to get going. I give him the universal twirl-of-the-index-finger sign that says wrap it up baby. He gets the hint, though I have to remind him that the cell phone he’s holding still belongs to me. It’s an honest mistake, like when you pocket a pen someone’s just lent you, yet before leaving, he gives us a ranting diatribe about what a “f—king dickhead” his boss is. I refrained from telling him that he’s likely to be the first of many, as I believe it’s best to learn those hard knocks on your own. Now they’re calling him back to the restaurant, clearly something has gone very much awry. Still though, we tipped him four bucks anyway…just because. Even food delivery comes with panache in Brooklyn.
At this point I don’t recall what the score was. Our burritos were a little cold and the refried beans had morphed into spackling putty, but they still had plenty of flavor, and flavor is key. By now, the Super Bowl was simply about savoring the last morsel of football season hoping, as I do each Sunday night, that the weekend will hang around just a little longer. Like every Super Bowl, this game will be boiled down to a few plays then looped incessantly during the fortnight before the Big Game in the years to come. As for SB XLI, Ellen went to bed shortly after what’s-his-name from Indy ran Rex Grossman’s interception back for a touchdown. I at least hung around to the end while wet confetti extinguished the final embers of the 2006 season. Out, out, brief candle…it was soon time to hit the sack myself.
Monday, November 27, 2006
MUSIC CITY MELTDOWN
For those who’ve worked so hard to purge the memories of the Giants’ inexplicable playoff loss to San Francisco four years ago, we urge you to contact your counselor in the wake of Sunday’s implosion in Nashville. Just as the Candlestick Collapse marked of the end of Jim Fassel, the Music City Meltdown officially places Tom Coughlin in similar lame duck status. In barbecue parlance, you can stick a fork in Tom Coughlin…he’s done.
The recent weeks have been a trying time for the Giants. Words such as “dysfunctional” and “tumultuous” have been popular ways to describe life for Big Blue. To exacerbate matters, Tiki Barber – also in lame duck status, but by his own choice – made another public outcry regarding Tom Coughlin’s lack of coaching acumen. So back to basics the Giants went; by passing to Jeremy Shockey early and often, giving Tiki Barber more carries, and finally providing Brandon Jacobs opportunities beyond short yardage situations. It was about time, as for weeks those hailing in Giantdom have all but sent smoke signals urging Big Blue to get back to fundamentals. And what do you know, by midway through the second quarter the Giants had a 21-0 lead. Sure Tiki Barber would have to eat a little crow for what he said, but so what, if that’s what it took to put the pedestrian play against Chicago and Jacksonville behind them, all was forgiven. It seemed to work. For at least the first half, the Giants hadn’t played so convincingly since shellacking Dallas on October 23rd. It wouldn’t be until the fourth quarter that Vince Young would resemble Jeff Garcia from the same aforementioned game everyone wants to forget.
For most of the game, the Giants moved the ball with positive rushing yardage and simple pass routes to move the chains. It may not have been the most loaded highlight reel, but for this banged-up ramshackle bunch, it was good medicine. And then, just like in the loss to Chicago a two weeks ago, a single play seismically shifted the momentum away from the Giants. That play, of course, was early in the fourth quarter where on 2nd and 4, Eli Manning flared a pass to Plaxico Burress on simple sideline route. Why in the world the Giants had to get cute when they should have kept running the ball in order to chew up the clock is beyond anyone’s logic. Then again, questionable play calling has been subject to debate all season long. Manning’s pass was a little overthrown, but certainly catchable if Burress gave it his all. Instead Burress gave up on the route, enabling “Pacman” Jones to make his first of two interceptions. Did Burress attempt to tackle Jones? Impede his runback? Try to knock him out of bounds? No, thus allowing Jones to return the inception for 26 additional yards and put the ball in Giants’ territory. The first tremors were being felt.
For Vince Young, this was his defining day as a rookie quarterback. Many were doubtful if Vince Young would cut in the NFL, thinking that his phenomenal performance in the Rose Bowl last January artificially boosted his stock. He still had his senior year in front of him at Texas, and, well, wasn’t he another one of those “running quarterbacks” anyway? After all, the jury was out on Michael Vick, the prototypical running quarterback, who last week was dubbed a “coach killer”. The last thing Tennessee needed was a quarterback juxtaposed to a “coach killer”. Add in the fact that Vince Young had his Wunderlik score (an 8, I believe) publicized in the same manner as JFK, Jr. failing the bar exam, and voila, Matt Leinart was soon saying bonjour Nashville. As for those running quarterbacks, they’re just useless aren’t they? Especially when it’s 4th and 10 and they’re about to be sacked by Mathias Kiwanuka.
Now for those of you who are still shell-shocked and have blocked out this play, here’s the quick recap. With 2:44 remaining in the game, Tennessee is faced with a 4th and 10 while trailing the Giants 21-14. The implications of this play are pretty basic: prevent the Titans from advancing the ball ten yards and the game is over. Young drops back to pass; he remains cool in the pocket – very cool, in fact – but can’t find an open receiver. Mathias Kiwanuka, who up this moment has had stellar rookie year, has Vince Young wrapped up. For all intents and purposes, Vince Young should have been sacked the same way Mookie Wilson should have grounded out to Bill Buckner in the ’86 World Series. Yet, incredulously, Kiwanuka lets Vince Young go. Perhaps Kiwanuka thought Young passed the ball and didn’t want to draw a roughing penalty. Fine, but if that were the case, Kiwanuka would have heard a whistle. Certainly he had to know what was going on. “It’s a fraction of a second, you have to make a decision and I made the wrong one”, Kiwanuka said. One has to wonder if such a mistake will be tagged to Kiwanuka’s career the same way Scott Norwood has never lived down missing that kick in Super Bowl XXV. In any case Young got the ten yards he needed, plus nine more. They would soon tie up the game a few plays later.
With less than a minute to go, the Giants had one final possession. In all likelihood they’d have to deal with being headed into overtime unless they got a miracle kick return for a touchdown. Just kneel on the ball, regroup, and accept that they squandered a 21-point lead but still can win in OT. They’ll take their shots about making this game exponentially harder than it needed to be, but in the NFL a win is win. They’ll still take it, the heck with the tabloids.
This, however, is not how the remaining 23 seconds would shake out. Rather than go into overtime with a few minutes to rest and focus, the Giants attempted to force the issue. After completing a nine-yard pass to David Tyree, Manning made horrible off-balance pass that was picked-off for the second time by “Pacman” Jones. “We basically gave it away at the end with the interception,” Tiki Barber said. “The only thing you don’t want to do is turn the ball over and that’s unfortunately what we did.” Indeed they did. Two plays later Tennessee was in range to kick the game winning field goal and won 24-21.
“We’re going to be sick about this one forever,” coach Coughlin said. After being decimated by injuries for the last month, the Giants are now sick as well. As for Coughlin, he too will be remembered for this loss forever. Stick a fork in him, he’s done.
The recent weeks have been a trying time for the Giants. Words such as “dysfunctional” and “tumultuous” have been popular ways to describe life for Big Blue. To exacerbate matters, Tiki Barber – also in lame duck status, but by his own choice – made another public outcry regarding Tom Coughlin’s lack of coaching acumen. So back to basics the Giants went; by passing to Jeremy Shockey early and often, giving Tiki Barber more carries, and finally providing Brandon Jacobs opportunities beyond short yardage situations. It was about time, as for weeks those hailing in Giantdom have all but sent smoke signals urging Big Blue to get back to fundamentals. And what do you know, by midway through the second quarter the Giants had a 21-0 lead. Sure Tiki Barber would have to eat a little crow for what he said, but so what, if that’s what it took to put the pedestrian play against Chicago and Jacksonville behind them, all was forgiven. It seemed to work. For at least the first half, the Giants hadn’t played so convincingly since shellacking Dallas on October 23rd. It wouldn’t be until the fourth quarter that Vince Young would resemble Jeff Garcia from the same aforementioned game everyone wants to forget.
For most of the game, the Giants moved the ball with positive rushing yardage and simple pass routes to move the chains. It may not have been the most loaded highlight reel, but for this banged-up ramshackle bunch, it was good medicine. And then, just like in the loss to Chicago a two weeks ago, a single play seismically shifted the momentum away from the Giants. That play, of course, was early in the fourth quarter where on 2nd and 4, Eli Manning flared a pass to Plaxico Burress on simple sideline route. Why in the world the Giants had to get cute when they should have kept running the ball in order to chew up the clock is beyond anyone’s logic. Then again, questionable play calling has been subject to debate all season long. Manning’s pass was a little overthrown, but certainly catchable if Burress gave it his all. Instead Burress gave up on the route, enabling “Pacman” Jones to make his first of two interceptions. Did Burress attempt to tackle Jones? Impede his runback? Try to knock him out of bounds? No, thus allowing Jones to return the inception for 26 additional yards and put the ball in Giants’ territory. The first tremors were being felt.
For Vince Young, this was his defining day as a rookie quarterback. Many were doubtful if Vince Young would cut in the NFL, thinking that his phenomenal performance in the Rose Bowl last January artificially boosted his stock. He still had his senior year in front of him at Texas, and, well, wasn’t he another one of those “running quarterbacks” anyway? After all, the jury was out on Michael Vick, the prototypical running quarterback, who last week was dubbed a “coach killer”. The last thing Tennessee needed was a quarterback juxtaposed to a “coach killer”. Add in the fact that Vince Young had his Wunderlik score (an 8, I believe) publicized in the same manner as JFK, Jr. failing the bar exam, and voila, Matt Leinart was soon saying bonjour Nashville. As for those running quarterbacks, they’re just useless aren’t they? Especially when it’s 4th and 10 and they’re about to be sacked by Mathias Kiwanuka.
Now for those of you who are still shell-shocked and have blocked out this play, here’s the quick recap. With 2:44 remaining in the game, Tennessee is faced with a 4th and 10 while trailing the Giants 21-14. The implications of this play are pretty basic: prevent the Titans from advancing the ball ten yards and the game is over. Young drops back to pass; he remains cool in the pocket – very cool, in fact – but can’t find an open receiver. Mathias Kiwanuka, who up this moment has had stellar rookie year, has Vince Young wrapped up. For all intents and purposes, Vince Young should have been sacked the same way Mookie Wilson should have grounded out to Bill Buckner in the ’86 World Series. Yet, incredulously, Kiwanuka lets Vince Young go. Perhaps Kiwanuka thought Young passed the ball and didn’t want to draw a roughing penalty. Fine, but if that were the case, Kiwanuka would have heard a whistle. Certainly he had to know what was going on. “It’s a fraction of a second, you have to make a decision and I made the wrong one”, Kiwanuka said. One has to wonder if such a mistake will be tagged to Kiwanuka’s career the same way Scott Norwood has never lived down missing that kick in Super Bowl XXV. In any case Young got the ten yards he needed, plus nine more. They would soon tie up the game a few plays later.
With less than a minute to go, the Giants had one final possession. In all likelihood they’d have to deal with being headed into overtime unless they got a miracle kick return for a touchdown. Just kneel on the ball, regroup, and accept that they squandered a 21-point lead but still can win in OT. They’ll take their shots about making this game exponentially harder than it needed to be, but in the NFL a win is win. They’ll still take it, the heck with the tabloids.
This, however, is not how the remaining 23 seconds would shake out. Rather than go into overtime with a few minutes to rest and focus, the Giants attempted to force the issue. After completing a nine-yard pass to David Tyree, Manning made horrible off-balance pass that was picked-off for the second time by “Pacman” Jones. “We basically gave it away at the end with the interception,” Tiki Barber said. “The only thing you don’t want to do is turn the ball over and that’s unfortunately what we did.” Indeed they did. Two plays later Tennessee was in range to kick the game winning field goal and won 24-21.
“We’re going to be sick about this one forever,” coach Coughlin said. After being decimated by injuries for the last month, the Giants are now sick as well. As for Coughlin, he too will be remembered for this loss forever. Stick a fork in him, he’s done.
Monday, November 13, 2006
TOO MUCH TO BEAR
For the first 28 minutes, a patchwork team of Giant defenders displayed some of the best, most inspiring football all season against Chicago. The swarmed, they wrapped, they pounded and they punished. Then, like a flick of the switch, something happened. Not only did the team fall apart, but so did individual players. Adding to the scroll of injured Giants is left tackle, Luke Petitgout, who went down late in the first quarter with a fractured left fibula. He’s out for the season. Also ailing is Sam Madison who re-aggravated his strained hamstring. As for Tiki Barber, his thumb will likely be the most scrutinized metacarpal since the days of Darwin. Perhaps he ought to consider retirement.
The early analysis on this game zeros on two particular plays where things went awry for Big Blue. The first was late in the second quarter, where Chicago converted on third and 22 on a draw play of all things. Up to that point the Giants had shut down the Bears running game completely. Several plays later the Bears scored, cutting the deficit to 13-10 but deflating the Giants morale even further. The second, which will remain tabloid and talk radio fodder until mid-week, was the 52 field goal attempt that was way short, caught by Devin Hester, and then run back 108 yards for a touchdown. Kicker Jay Feely missed from 32 yards going in the same direction earlier in the game, so what are the Giants thinking? Both are fair points, though there’s one other play that has been overlooked.
What I love/hate about the challenge rule is that regardless of whether a team wins or loses a challenge, it can really snap the momentum of a particular drive. One beef I have with Tom Coughlin is his propensity to make stupid challenges over frivolous things. Eli Manning and the Giants are the kind of offense that needs to keep a rhythm, and throwing the challenge flag can really kill the mojo. It wasn’t Coughlin who tossed the red flag last night, but Bears Head Coach Lovie Smith. Early in the fourth quarter, the Giants were really moving the ball well. They were only down 24-20 and there was no need to create a sense of urgency besides that they thrive in a fast paced, no-huddle offense. On first down Manning hits Burress for ten yards. Next play Tiki Barber runs it up the right side for eight more yards to the Chicago 41. Then, on a second and two, Manning hits David Tyree for 12 yards on long horizontal out pattern. Tyree makes the catch, and with some nimble footwork remains in bounds by about a millimeter or two. All in all it was a nice play by Tyree, despite his not running a particularly crisp pattern, and though the ruling on the field was a completion, the Side Judge was noticeably tentative. The Giants smelled a challenge looming and tried to get the next play off before it was too late…too late. Cut to a red flag on the field while Referee Ed Hochuli looks under the hood during a TV timeout. Tick, tick, tick…the Giants hot drive cools off as the officials make sure they get it right on this nationally televised game. Tick, tick, tick…still waiting in the rain while Chicago catches their breath and makes substitutions. The last thing the Giants needed on this drive was a lull. Finally, after further review, the play stood as called. It was the right call, but you had a sense the momentum had been badly disrupted. Next play, taking advantage of losing Luke Petitgout, Manning is hammered from his blind side, fumbles, and loses ten yards but not possession. Then one more run to Tiki on 2nd & 24, and then a horribly forced pass to Plaxico Burress the down after. Drive over… then comes the decision to make the 52-yard filed goal. You know the rest.
Now of course anything could have happened after David Tyree’s reception regardless of whether Chicago challenged the play or not, but I can not deny that my intuitive read that says the Giants would have kept moving the ball and likely scored. It’s like having a productive meeting at the office get hijacked by a fire drill. You just don’t quite pick up where you left off before the alarm went off.
And by the way, where the hell was Jeremy Shockey? Did the Giants not watch the game film from the week before against Houston? Only one reception for Shockey is totally inexcusable. Talk about talent not being utilized.
After three games at home, the Giants travel to Jacksonville next week and Nashville the week after. Both of these teams are dangerous despite their records indicating otherwise. The Jaguars fall into that description of being one of those “Jekyll and Hyde” teams; you know, as in never knowing what you’re going to expect. In many ways the same could be said for the Giants, not so much for having split personalities; just split limbs.
OTHER THOUGHTS:
1) After ten weeks into the season, which is the most surprising 4-5 team, San Francisco or Cincinnati? One team is going in the right direction, the other isn’t.
2) What’s all this talk about the handshake, or lack of a handshake, between Bill Belichick and Eric Mangini? Sure there’s some tension between mentor and protégé, but how long do other coaches with less of a history, like, say, Bill Parcells and Denny Green shake hands for? I watched the “cold” handshake between Belichick and Mangini, it was about .347 seconds. The Parcells Green handshake was about .469 seconds. That’s a .122 second difference; an extra syllable said at best. Who cares? This is so not a story…move on.
3) Not to start second guessing the Giants past draft strategy, but, you know, they did have Phillip Rivers for about 15 minutes before trading him to San Diego in exchange for Eli Manning and a king’s ransom. Phillip Rivers had a career transforming game yesterday; putting up 42 second half points in Cincinnati. Manning looked simply awful.
4) Saw Matt Leinart play for the first time this season against Dallas. Man Arizona looks bad, all game long Leinart had his eyes set on whomever the play was designed for. So easy to read if you’re a defender, no pump fakes, no counters, no play action, no scouting the field for other options. I mean, everyone on Dallas knew where the ball was going on every play. How the coaches haven’t attempted to make such adjustments is beyond me. Arizona is a very, very bad football team.
5) After seeing Luke Petitgout go down for the season, is there any wonder how the Left Tackle position has become the road to riches in the NFL?
The early analysis on this game zeros on two particular plays where things went awry for Big Blue. The first was late in the second quarter, where Chicago converted on third and 22 on a draw play of all things. Up to that point the Giants had shut down the Bears running game completely. Several plays later the Bears scored, cutting the deficit to 13-10 but deflating the Giants morale even further. The second, which will remain tabloid and talk radio fodder until mid-week, was the 52 field goal attempt that was way short, caught by Devin Hester, and then run back 108 yards for a touchdown. Kicker Jay Feely missed from 32 yards going in the same direction earlier in the game, so what are the Giants thinking? Both are fair points, though there’s one other play that has been overlooked.
What I love/hate about the challenge rule is that regardless of whether a team wins or loses a challenge, it can really snap the momentum of a particular drive. One beef I have with Tom Coughlin is his propensity to make stupid challenges over frivolous things. Eli Manning and the Giants are the kind of offense that needs to keep a rhythm, and throwing the challenge flag can really kill the mojo. It wasn’t Coughlin who tossed the red flag last night, but Bears Head Coach Lovie Smith. Early in the fourth quarter, the Giants were really moving the ball well. They were only down 24-20 and there was no need to create a sense of urgency besides that they thrive in a fast paced, no-huddle offense. On first down Manning hits Burress for ten yards. Next play Tiki Barber runs it up the right side for eight more yards to the Chicago 41. Then, on a second and two, Manning hits David Tyree for 12 yards on long horizontal out pattern. Tyree makes the catch, and with some nimble footwork remains in bounds by about a millimeter or two. All in all it was a nice play by Tyree, despite his not running a particularly crisp pattern, and though the ruling on the field was a completion, the Side Judge was noticeably tentative. The Giants smelled a challenge looming and tried to get the next play off before it was too late…too late. Cut to a red flag on the field while Referee Ed Hochuli looks under the hood during a TV timeout. Tick, tick, tick…the Giants hot drive cools off as the officials make sure they get it right on this nationally televised game. Tick, tick, tick…still waiting in the rain while Chicago catches their breath and makes substitutions. The last thing the Giants needed on this drive was a lull. Finally, after further review, the play stood as called. It was the right call, but you had a sense the momentum had been badly disrupted. Next play, taking advantage of losing Luke Petitgout, Manning is hammered from his blind side, fumbles, and loses ten yards but not possession. Then one more run to Tiki on 2nd & 24, and then a horribly forced pass to Plaxico Burress the down after. Drive over… then comes the decision to make the 52-yard filed goal. You know the rest.
Now of course anything could have happened after David Tyree’s reception regardless of whether Chicago challenged the play or not, but I can not deny that my intuitive read that says the Giants would have kept moving the ball and likely scored. It’s like having a productive meeting at the office get hijacked by a fire drill. You just don’t quite pick up where you left off before the alarm went off.
And by the way, where the hell was Jeremy Shockey? Did the Giants not watch the game film from the week before against Houston? Only one reception for Shockey is totally inexcusable. Talk about talent not being utilized.
After three games at home, the Giants travel to Jacksonville next week and Nashville the week after. Both of these teams are dangerous despite their records indicating otherwise. The Jaguars fall into that description of being one of those “Jekyll and Hyde” teams; you know, as in never knowing what you’re going to expect. In many ways the same could be said for the Giants, not so much for having split personalities; just split limbs.
OTHER THOUGHTS:
1) After ten weeks into the season, which is the most surprising 4-5 team, San Francisco or Cincinnati? One team is going in the right direction, the other isn’t.
2) What’s all this talk about the handshake, or lack of a handshake, between Bill Belichick and Eric Mangini? Sure there’s some tension between mentor and protégé, but how long do other coaches with less of a history, like, say, Bill Parcells and Denny Green shake hands for? I watched the “cold” handshake between Belichick and Mangini, it was about .347 seconds. The Parcells Green handshake was about .469 seconds. That’s a .122 second difference; an extra syllable said at best. Who cares? This is so not a story…move on.
3) Not to start second guessing the Giants past draft strategy, but, you know, they did have Phillip Rivers for about 15 minutes before trading him to San Diego in exchange for Eli Manning and a king’s ransom. Phillip Rivers had a career transforming game yesterday; putting up 42 second half points in Cincinnati. Manning looked simply awful.
4) Saw Matt Leinart play for the first time this season against Dallas. Man Arizona looks bad, all game long Leinart had his eyes set on whomever the play was designed for. So easy to read if you’re a defender, no pump fakes, no counters, no play action, no scouting the field for other options. I mean, everyone on Dallas knew where the ball was going on every play. How the coaches haven’t attempted to make such adjustments is beyond me. Arizona is a very, very bad football team.
5) After seeing Luke Petitgout go down for the season, is there any wonder how the Left Tackle position has become the road to riches in the NFL?
Monday, November 06, 2006
GIANTS AVOID CARR WRECK
For those of you who’ve missed those “old Giants”, you know, the one’s that somehow beat the other team but never covered the point spread, don’t complain. You’re order against the Houston Texans has been processed. Thank you for your patronage, come see us again next Sunday. For the last two weeks, those old Giants have been back. Just winning games in unceremonious fashion where by Tuesday it’s forgotten how they did it. Regardless of who’s coaching Big Blue, the Giants have always played the good teams much better than the bad. So is beating the woebegone Houston Texans by a paltry score of 14-10 really a surprise?
All week long this game has been of high importance and high alert. The alarm sounding of a “trap game” went off when Tampa Bay exited Giants Stadium the week before. So many times the Giants have stooped down to inferior competition to keep their batteries fresh against the presumably tougher match-up a week later. Would this happen again against the Texans? For a while it looked that way.
First of all, despite the Houston Texans dreadful 2-6 record, it looks like things can only get better for this team. After all, they’ve prevented the Giants from doing something they’ve had carte blanche access to for a month; and that’s getting to the quarterback. David Carr (21/30 0 TD, 0 INT), who’s spent more time on his butt than any other quarterback over the past five years, was often poised and in position to make plays. He even scored a touchdown, though that drive was sustained thanks to the bonehead penalty by dimeback, James Butler. For the Giants, the game plan was simple: get to David Carr quickly and shut down the quietest top receiver in the league, Andre Johnson (9-83). It wasn’t that simple, as Carr relied on his patented quick release and hit Andre Johnson in the flat to move the chains along. For the most part Houston moved the ball pretty well, but failed to score on most occasions. From the beginning of the game, Houston had a chance to establish themselves on the opening drive, and took advantage of several Giant defenders (Osi Umenyiora, Sam Madison, Brandon Short, and later, Michael Strahan) being out. The problem is that teams who’ve only won two games all season find ways to stay that way. While getting into scoring position on their opening drive, Carr on a 3rd and 6 play, threw the ball to a wide open Walter Lundy (3 rec/16 yards, 20 rush/43 yards) in the flat. With nary a blue jersey in sight, Lundy let the ball squirt right through his hands. End of drive. Fourth down…field goal missed. The Texans are the opposite of the 90/10 rule. Ninety percent of their losses come from screw-ups only ten percent of the time; at least it was that way against the Giants. For the most part, Houston hung tough, only to make mistakes at the most inopportune times.
What the Giants did do well, and have needed to do for many weeks now, was get Jeremy Shockey (8/66, 1 TD) involved early in the game. It’s no secret that Shockey has a way of getting the rest of the team ramped up to play, but he’s got to get going early. With Plaxico Burress having his quarterly back spasms, Shockey pulled the mother load. Clearly Plax was missed by Giants quarterback, Eli Manning (17/28, 1 TD, 1 INT). Just like Dan Quayle is no John F. Kennedy, Michael Jennings (2/21) and Tim Carter (1/15) are no Plaxico Burress. Jennings, in his first NFL start showed some hustle and gumption, but still isn’t on the same page as Manning. Tim Carter, who knows? The guy is just so inconsistent. This week’s issue wasn’t dropped passes or stupid penalties, but rather never having enough room on the field to make a play. Seemed that every time the ball came his way, one foot was already out of bounds. That’s just careless. At least he’s healthy, generally he’s only good until Halloween.
Of course Tiki did his thing (17-115), but what was really impressive was the offensive line discipline in this game. Guards Dave Diehl and Chris Snee were very crisp when pulling across en route to create downfield blocking lanes, while Luke Petitgout kept Mario Williams relatively quiet for most of the game. And boy have the penalties come way down, in fact, the only line penalties that I can recall came from Rich Seubert and Bob Whitfield; neither of whom are regular starters.
What is a concern now that the season enters it’s latter half is injuries. Michael Strahan will be out at least 2-4 weeks with an ankle sprain while Osi Umenyiora still nurses his banged up hip. Clearly Chicago will look to exploit this weakness since David Carr came out of Sunday’s game relatively unscathed. Be careful for what you wished for, those old boring Giants just might hang around for a few more weeks…whoever’s healthy enough to go.
FIVE OTHER THOUGHTS
1) For a Giant secondary that can’t really cover, Gibril Wilson really stuck close in man-to-man coverage when Houston was deep in the red zone. Still would like to see him in more blitzes; which might be the case with the Giants defensive line being so banged up. I like Gibril Wilson a lot.
2) Other scribes have mentioned this as well, but I share their thoughts. As impressive as David Carr played against the Giants, act like a professional. Couldn’t tell if his reaction after a two-yard touchdown scamper was from his fraternity days or he was auditioning for The Price is Right. Either way it was extremely sophomoric and unprofessional. Grow up kid, you’re on a 2-6 team.
3) Saw all of the Giants-Texans game, most of the Indy-New England game (dozed off for a few minutes) and caught portions of Pittsburgh-Denver and Minnesota-San Francisco while at the gym. Added up, I equate this to about 2.672 football games watched by me yesterday. Nevertheless, I don’t think I’m exaggerating if I guessed that the Chevrolet commercial with John Mellencamp must have aired about 67 times yesterday. Message to ad agency buying airtime for General Motors: I live in Brooklyn, I ain’t buying a pick-up truck to haul calzones. Why the hell is this ad being aired in as if I’m living in Amarillo? Mellencamp fans forget about an upcoming tour, he ought to have enough royalty checks to cover him for the next ten years.
4) Not sure how long Rich Gannon has been an announcer. He’s an analyst for CBS and tends to do lower priority/small market games. In other words, we don’t get him calling too many games in New York unless the Giants or Jets are playing a team like the Texans; and so yesterday was my first experience with him calling a game. He stinks.
5) Besides Tiki Barber, Jeff Feagles will likely retire after this season as well. You don’t appreciate a good punter until he’s gone. Don’t laugh when I say that his impact will also be sorely missed. You heard it here first.
All week long this game has been of high importance and high alert. The alarm sounding of a “trap game” went off when Tampa Bay exited Giants Stadium the week before. So many times the Giants have stooped down to inferior competition to keep their batteries fresh against the presumably tougher match-up a week later. Would this happen again against the Texans? For a while it looked that way.
First of all, despite the Houston Texans dreadful 2-6 record, it looks like things can only get better for this team. After all, they’ve prevented the Giants from doing something they’ve had carte blanche access to for a month; and that’s getting to the quarterback. David Carr (21/30 0 TD, 0 INT), who’s spent more time on his butt than any other quarterback over the past five years, was often poised and in position to make plays. He even scored a touchdown, though that drive was sustained thanks to the bonehead penalty by dimeback, James Butler. For the Giants, the game plan was simple: get to David Carr quickly and shut down the quietest top receiver in the league, Andre Johnson (9-83). It wasn’t that simple, as Carr relied on his patented quick release and hit Andre Johnson in the flat to move the chains along. For the most part Houston moved the ball pretty well, but failed to score on most occasions. From the beginning of the game, Houston had a chance to establish themselves on the opening drive, and took advantage of several Giant defenders (Osi Umenyiora, Sam Madison, Brandon Short, and later, Michael Strahan) being out. The problem is that teams who’ve only won two games all season find ways to stay that way. While getting into scoring position on their opening drive, Carr on a 3rd and 6 play, threw the ball to a wide open Walter Lundy (3 rec/16 yards, 20 rush/43 yards) in the flat. With nary a blue jersey in sight, Lundy let the ball squirt right through his hands. End of drive. Fourth down…field goal missed. The Texans are the opposite of the 90/10 rule. Ninety percent of their losses come from screw-ups only ten percent of the time; at least it was that way against the Giants. For the most part, Houston hung tough, only to make mistakes at the most inopportune times.
What the Giants did do well, and have needed to do for many weeks now, was get Jeremy Shockey (8/66, 1 TD) involved early in the game. It’s no secret that Shockey has a way of getting the rest of the team ramped up to play, but he’s got to get going early. With Plaxico Burress having his quarterly back spasms, Shockey pulled the mother load. Clearly Plax was missed by Giants quarterback, Eli Manning (17/28, 1 TD, 1 INT). Just like Dan Quayle is no John F. Kennedy, Michael Jennings (2/21) and Tim Carter (1/15) are no Plaxico Burress. Jennings, in his first NFL start showed some hustle and gumption, but still isn’t on the same page as Manning. Tim Carter, who knows? The guy is just so inconsistent. This week’s issue wasn’t dropped passes or stupid penalties, but rather never having enough room on the field to make a play. Seemed that every time the ball came his way, one foot was already out of bounds. That’s just careless. At least he’s healthy, generally he’s only good until Halloween.
Of course Tiki did his thing (17-115), but what was really impressive was the offensive line discipline in this game. Guards Dave Diehl and Chris Snee were very crisp when pulling across en route to create downfield blocking lanes, while Luke Petitgout kept Mario Williams relatively quiet for most of the game. And boy have the penalties come way down, in fact, the only line penalties that I can recall came from Rich Seubert and Bob Whitfield; neither of whom are regular starters.
What is a concern now that the season enters it’s latter half is injuries. Michael Strahan will be out at least 2-4 weeks with an ankle sprain while Osi Umenyiora still nurses his banged up hip. Clearly Chicago will look to exploit this weakness since David Carr came out of Sunday’s game relatively unscathed. Be careful for what you wished for, those old boring Giants just might hang around for a few more weeks…whoever’s healthy enough to go.
FIVE OTHER THOUGHTS
1) For a Giant secondary that can’t really cover, Gibril Wilson really stuck close in man-to-man coverage when Houston was deep in the red zone. Still would like to see him in more blitzes; which might be the case with the Giants defensive line being so banged up. I like Gibril Wilson a lot.
2) Other scribes have mentioned this as well, but I share their thoughts. As impressive as David Carr played against the Giants, act like a professional. Couldn’t tell if his reaction after a two-yard touchdown scamper was from his fraternity days or he was auditioning for The Price is Right. Either way it was extremely sophomoric and unprofessional. Grow up kid, you’re on a 2-6 team.
3) Saw all of the Giants-Texans game, most of the Indy-New England game (dozed off for a few minutes) and caught portions of Pittsburgh-Denver and Minnesota-San Francisco while at the gym. Added up, I equate this to about 2.672 football games watched by me yesterday. Nevertheless, I don’t think I’m exaggerating if I guessed that the Chevrolet commercial with John Mellencamp must have aired about 67 times yesterday. Message to ad agency buying airtime for General Motors: I live in Brooklyn, I ain’t buying a pick-up truck to haul calzones. Why the hell is this ad being aired in as if I’m living in Amarillo? Mellencamp fans forget about an upcoming tour, he ought to have enough royalty checks to cover him for the next ten years.
4) Not sure how long Rich Gannon has been an announcer. He’s an analyst for CBS and tends to do lower priority/small market games. In other words, we don’t get him calling too many games in New York unless the Giants or Jets are playing a team like the Texans; and so yesterday was my first experience with him calling a game. He stinks.
5) Besides Tiki Barber, Jeff Feagles will likely retire after this season as well. You don’t appreciate a good punter until he’s gone. Don’t laugh when I say that his impact will also be sorely missed. You heard it here first.
Monday, October 30, 2006
GIANT DEFENSE RUNS PIRATE SHIP AGROUND
When looking back on the Giants 2006 season, the game against Tampa Bay will likely blur into the season like a rest stop en route to summer camp. With the swirling winds reinforcing the Meadowlands’ gusty reputation, there was little offense to be found. More euphemistically said, it was a game of “field position”…a punter’s duel, of which there were 18 punts in all. Not bad enough to watch Heidi, but with the exception of Plaxico Burress’ one-handed touchdown grab, this game provided few, if any other highlights.
The game got off to a somewhat tentative start. The Bucs in the last seven days have had to adapt to climate extremes; stifling heat at home against the Eagles a week ago, brisk chills Sunday in Giants Stadium. It’s no secret that cold weather to Tampa Bay is like kryptonite to Superman. As a result, the game started like a lumbering bear coming out of hibernation.
On the defensive side of the ball, the Giants did go for the throat, blitzing early and often. Clearly the Giants have found a way to compensate for their secondary, and that’s to simply get to the quarterback as quickly as possible. It’s nice to see again, as making life miserable for quarterbacks had been a lost art in Giantdom until recently. Even better, since the secondary hasn’t been able to cover much of anyone this season, why not ramp up the corner and safety blitzes as well? Until Sunday, Gibril Wilson had been a complete afterthought. And when the Giants had a chance to get burned by the blitz, they got help from the wind in the form poorly thrown passes from Bucs’ QB Brad Gradkowski. Add in a number of dropped passes by a frightened Joey Galloway and company, and one could see early that it was going to be a long day for Tampa Bay.
The Bucs’ however, did make some adjustments that stymied the Giants pass rush as the game worn on; putting in a two tight-end set consisting of Anthony Becht and Alex Smith. This spread out the Giants linebackers into the flat and thus took away the Giants ability to blitz. To further exploit this formation, Tampa Bay was also able to work in several screen passes to Cadillac Williams and Michael Pittman for marginal gains. At best, however, this enabled Tampa Bay to pick up a few first downs in the second half. Yet as soon as they looked to be in striking distance, something would implode in the form of a penalty, sack or turnover and kill the drive.
Even though this wasn’t the most exiting match-up, there was one very significant thing to extract from this game, and that was the innate sense the Giants had this game won from the very beginning. For years, as well as early in the Tom Coughlin era, there was always a disturbing anticipation that the Giants were about to let a game slip away. This feeling didn’t go without merit, just look at the last ten years. We’ve seen it earlier in this season as well, when they could have beaten Indianapolis, as well as in Dallas last week where the Giants had a chance to deliver the finishing blow early in the second quarter. For years the Giants have simply lacked that knockout punch. Yet something about the way they beat Tampa Bay showed no hint of the game ever being in jeopardy. It was obvious to the point of being dull, but it’s a dullness that Giant fans will happily take.
Call it magic if you want, I’ll just call it defense.
The game got off to a somewhat tentative start. The Bucs in the last seven days have had to adapt to climate extremes; stifling heat at home against the Eagles a week ago, brisk chills Sunday in Giants Stadium. It’s no secret that cold weather to Tampa Bay is like kryptonite to Superman. As a result, the game started like a lumbering bear coming out of hibernation.
On the defensive side of the ball, the Giants did go for the throat, blitzing early and often. Clearly the Giants have found a way to compensate for their secondary, and that’s to simply get to the quarterback as quickly as possible. It’s nice to see again, as making life miserable for quarterbacks had been a lost art in Giantdom until recently. Even better, since the secondary hasn’t been able to cover much of anyone this season, why not ramp up the corner and safety blitzes as well? Until Sunday, Gibril Wilson had been a complete afterthought. And when the Giants had a chance to get burned by the blitz, they got help from the wind in the form poorly thrown passes from Bucs’ QB Brad Gradkowski. Add in a number of dropped passes by a frightened Joey Galloway and company, and one could see early that it was going to be a long day for Tampa Bay.
The Bucs’ however, did make some adjustments that stymied the Giants pass rush as the game worn on; putting in a two tight-end set consisting of Anthony Becht and Alex Smith. This spread out the Giants linebackers into the flat and thus took away the Giants ability to blitz. To further exploit this formation, Tampa Bay was also able to work in several screen passes to Cadillac Williams and Michael Pittman for marginal gains. At best, however, this enabled Tampa Bay to pick up a few first downs in the second half. Yet as soon as they looked to be in striking distance, something would implode in the form of a penalty, sack or turnover and kill the drive.
Even though this wasn’t the most exiting match-up, there was one very significant thing to extract from this game, and that was the innate sense the Giants had this game won from the very beginning. For years, as well as early in the Tom Coughlin era, there was always a disturbing anticipation that the Giants were about to let a game slip away. This feeling didn’t go without merit, just look at the last ten years. We’ve seen it earlier in this season as well, when they could have beaten Indianapolis, as well as in Dallas last week where the Giants had a chance to deliver the finishing blow early in the second quarter. For years the Giants have simply lacked that knockout punch. Yet something about the way they beat Tampa Bay showed no hint of the game ever being in jeopardy. It was obvious to the point of being dull, but it’s a dullness that Giant fans will happily take.
Call it magic if you want, I’ll just call it defense.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
BY REQUEST...
I’m not sure how this happened, but somehow one of my readers got hold of my personal cell phone number and left me a message. I’ve called Verizon to get answers, but I’ve given up on customer service in New York City. He wanted my perspective of how things are shaping up in the NFC East; particularly in the wake of injuries, quarterback controversies, retirement announcements and overall concerns facing the division. So, whomever you are that called me at 9:57 on Thursday morning, here’s my take. Glad you called, I needed the release. The job that pays has kept me well occupied this week. I’ll have Verizon call off the search.
Dallas Cowboys:
Dallas is under the microscope this week because they lost badly on Monday night to the New York Giants. The Giants played well, perhaps their best performance to date. Though there’s no doubt the Cowboys made it easier than it needed to be. And as if the T.O.-a-meter hasn’t already gone on full tilt, a national television audience has now witnessed the Drew Bledsoe-Tony Romo quarterback controversy unfold before their very eyes. For now it’s saucy stuff, much juicier than the Gary Hogeboom-Danny White QB controversy of the early 1980s. Then again, the egos of Tom Landry and Tex Schram have about one eight the wattage of Bill Parcells and Jerry Jones.
First of all, I don’t think there’s much of a controversy here. I’ve never been sold on Drew Bledsoe. He’s been in the league for 13 years now and has never demonstrated any true command for the game. Perhaps if Bledsoe had a dose of Joe Montana’s smarts with the “gun slinger” aspect of Brett Favre, he might have been one hell of a quarterback. To his credit, Bledsoe has always had a strong arm and has remained remarkably durable, but unfortunately lacks the proper intangibles to have ever been great. In essence, Drew Bledsoe is Kerry Collins with higher self-esteem. Parcells knows it’s too late to change Bledsoe’s habits. He overthinks when his instincts should take command and allows impulses to override times when judgement should prevail. His wires have always been crossed, and thus it’s time to shelve the veteran rookie for someone else. Enter Tony Romo. Now, Tony, let us fill you in about this offensive line…
What’s also crazy is the sports punditry is trying to examine if there’s any power struggle going on between Jerry Jones and Bill Parcells. Jones is pro-Bledsoe, Parcells is pro-Romo. Now that Romo is starting this week against Carolina, is it because he’s the better quarterback, or is it because Parcells wants to stick it to his boss? For God’s sake, could if just have to do that Bledsoe can’t move worth a damn and makes decisions that are dumb even by junior varsity standards? Once upon a time, people concerned themselves with what the Dallas Cowboys did on the field. To loosely barrow from Simon & Garfunkel: Where have you gone Roger Staubach, a sprawling city turns its lonely eyes to you.
Jones has to be careful about his continuous desire to pull all the strings, as he’s had lousy luck finding anybody to work for him between the tenures of Tuna and Jimmy Johnson. After all, Dave Campo and Chan Gaily are, for lack of a better comparison, the James Buchanan and Franklin Pierce of Cowboys franchise history. What’s really looming is that Parcells has perhaps this season and maybe…and I stress maybe… next season to get Dallas where they want to be. We’ve all seen how Parcells gets his teams going in the right direction, then quits. The main difference with these Cowboys is that only in spurts have they’ve been competitive, failing to show any constant forward direction. Thus making for a rather un-Parcellsian anomaly. It’s also well known that Parcells hates front office intervention, though he can’t absorb the responsibility of being head coach and general manager at the same time, as previous experiments proved. Maybe Parcells’ current situation is what he wants after all, as he’s only happy when he’s miserable. And boy does he look miserable (so, then…maybe he’s happy?). Who knows? In any case, a few more weeks of these shenanigans and look out for a clandestine sighting of Jerry Jones and Jim Fassel. For Fassel it’s either talk to Jones or audition to pitch the Sleep Number Bed.
Philadelphia Eagles:
I’ve pretty much had it with this team. For some reason there’s this false believe; this illusion if you will, that the Philadelphia Eagles are among the NFL’s elite teams. Oh yes, in the second week of the season they won an impressive road game against the Houston Texans. You could say the same about America’s military prowess in Grenada. Ever since Rush Limbaugh made the politically incorrect comment that Donovan McNabb was “overrated…because the media has been very desirous to see a black quarterback do well,” there has been an overcompensating backlash about how “well” he’s played ever since. Enough already. He goofed off on the sidelines and even tried to taunt the Giants’ linebackers before that game was stolen in overtime last month. And don’t even tell me how great he looked in the game against Tampa Bay. Had he not gift-wrapped 14 points in the form of two interceptions to Ronde Barber, there wouldn’t have been a sense of urgency to begin with. That late touchdown pass to Brian Westbrook was more an example of shoddy arm tackling by Tampa Bay defenders than a brilliant, Elway-esque, comeback (which wasn’t a comeback anyway because Tampa Bay won). Yet thanks to Rush Limbaugh, McNabb is forever sacrosanct from such criticism. Somehow Marc Bulger, Tom Brady and Damon Huard have fallen well below the radar while McNabb has had his “career season”. Lest us forget that McNabb’s team is just one game north of .500. If the media is truly desirous to see a black quarterback do well, take a look at how Charlie Batch has stepped up in Pittsburgh this season. Better yet, just view the quarterback position with same color-blindness as an offensive lineman.
Washington Redskins:
The Washington Redskins coaching staff is like a collaboration of established musicians forming a new band, and sucking. Think the concept of Derek and the Dominos with the product of Asia. Thus far the “super group” billing of Joe Gibbs, Gregg Williams and Al Saunders has produced only two wins with whispers of a potential quarterback controversy as well. Mark Brunell, whose mobility could be compared to that of a hippopotamus, has been beaten and bruised all season. Though to his credit Brunell’s brittle 36-year-old body has remained largely intact. Despite another crop of mercenary receivers harvested from the Skins’ cornucopia, Brunell has had little time to get them ball. And when he does have time, his receivers, particularly Brandon Lloyd, have run the wrong route or aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Generally pre-season is the time when such kinks get banged out, however, when the offensive playbook exceeds the thickness of the New York City Yellow Pages, confusion is bound to happen.
Confusion isn’t the only problem with the Redskins offense but pass protection too. Last week against Indianapolis, Redskins tackle Chris Samuels gave his best impersonation of a bowling pin; colliding with other lineman and knocking them down while Colt defenders mauled Mark Brunell. As for the running game, Clinton Portis and the four other backs on Washington’s roster have moved the ball well enough, though Portis’ health seems to be a weekly concern. We’ve seen what Ladell Betts can do when given the opportunity, but it remains a question if he can keep his stamina if elevated beyond a supporting role.
The problem with the Skins is ever since Dan Snyder took over the team they simply don’t operate as a cohesive unit. Fewer teams have spent as much on big-ticket free agents only to see them lose their luster once they get to DC. For a team that’s always had one of the most devoted fan bases in the NFL, one wonders about the constant need for such star power. Even a scab team donning the burgundy and gold would fill FedEx Field to capacity. Sure they’re the Redskins, but are they your Redskins; the one’s that played in RFK Stadium back when Loudoun County was still farmland? Like Jerry Jones with Bill Parcells, Dan Snyder has about reached to bottom of his bag of tricks for producing head-coaches. Some say that Notre Dame Head Coach, Charlie Weis, could get pried away if the price was right; even though Weis recently stated that he wanted to remain in South Bend until he died. With Joe Gibbs looking as though the game has passed him by, the Redskins are looking like the NFL’s version of Ishtar.
New York Giants:
As much at the media wants to drum up the significance of Tiki Barber retiring after this season, it’s hardly been a distraction. There’re a lot of other things about the Giants that will likely change after this season. One main change will be in the front office. With Giants’ co-owners Wellington Mara and Bob Tisch dying within the span of a few weeks last season, Giants’ GM Ernie Accorsi postponed his retirement for another year. Of course he could change his mind again and keep working, but if Accorsi’s plan stays the same, then major change is looming. For whatever reason, this issue has been largely unmentioned. And when that happens, it’s doubtful how long Tom Coughlin will hang around. Lately the Giants have been playing much, much better, but the ebb and flow of their play since Coughlin took over three years ago has always been an issue. There’s simply something unconvincing about Coughlin manning the helm of Big Blue. The car may start for a few weeks, then it may need a jump-start, but when one really needs the car to start it fails to turn over…that’s the Tom Coughlin pattern. Just look at how the Carolina Panthers embarrassed the Giants in playoffs last season. One just never knows; as in, when’s the other shoe gonna drop?
What is getting fans riled up is the Giants are playing defense again. The pass rush that was non-existent early in the season is now in complete abundance. It’s a good thing since Big Blue’s secondary is still getting burned routinely and thankfully has some cushion. Michael Strahan still looks young and vibrant even in his fourteenth season, and the push from the Giants interior line play has stuffed the running game very well. This Sunday against Tampa Bay, Osi Umenyiora will be nursing his hip as Mathias Kiwanuka gets his first rookie start. Kiwanuka, or “MK” as he’s known, plays with uncanny quickness, and even better, he’s got a mean streak. Frankly, it’s good to see the Giants look a little meaner in order to jettison anything – and I mean anything – from the Jim Fassel era.
So far this season I’ve been off with my hunches and can’t seem to get off my own campaign to make Visanthe Shiancoe a household name. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. I’ve done all that I can. But since I like to give my gut feeling, I do feel that Sunday’s game against Tampa Bay will be Brandon Jacobs’ first real breakout game. The reason I feel this way is I get a sense that there’s some resentment to Tiki Barber’s retirement announcement. Earlier in the week, there was some uncharacteristic jawing between Tiki and Michael Irvin and Tom Jackson of ESPN. Tiki even went to the extent of calling them “idiots”. Essentially, there’s a contingent that believes Tiki Barber is a sissy for retiring while he’s still in the prime of his career, and I think Tampa Bay is going to pursue him with a vengeance. Being that Tiki’s twin brother, Ronde, plays cornerback for Tampa Bay, they’ll do all they can to gang up on Tiki in order to show that their Barber is the boldest. To answer that assault, the Giants will launch Brandon Jacobs right into the pits, wear them down, and the let Tiki pave right over them. That’s just a hunch of course, but I’m sticking with it.
Enjoy the games everyone, wherever you might be.
Dallas Cowboys:
Dallas is under the microscope this week because they lost badly on Monday night to the New York Giants. The Giants played well, perhaps their best performance to date. Though there’s no doubt the Cowboys made it easier than it needed to be. And as if the T.O.-a-meter hasn’t already gone on full tilt, a national television audience has now witnessed the Drew Bledsoe-Tony Romo quarterback controversy unfold before their very eyes. For now it’s saucy stuff, much juicier than the Gary Hogeboom-Danny White QB controversy of the early 1980s. Then again, the egos of Tom Landry and Tex Schram have about one eight the wattage of Bill Parcells and Jerry Jones.
First of all, I don’t think there’s much of a controversy here. I’ve never been sold on Drew Bledsoe. He’s been in the league for 13 years now and has never demonstrated any true command for the game. Perhaps if Bledsoe had a dose of Joe Montana’s smarts with the “gun slinger” aspect of Brett Favre, he might have been one hell of a quarterback. To his credit, Bledsoe has always had a strong arm and has remained remarkably durable, but unfortunately lacks the proper intangibles to have ever been great. In essence, Drew Bledsoe is Kerry Collins with higher self-esteem. Parcells knows it’s too late to change Bledsoe’s habits. He overthinks when his instincts should take command and allows impulses to override times when judgement should prevail. His wires have always been crossed, and thus it’s time to shelve the veteran rookie for someone else. Enter Tony Romo. Now, Tony, let us fill you in about this offensive line…
What’s also crazy is the sports punditry is trying to examine if there’s any power struggle going on between Jerry Jones and Bill Parcells. Jones is pro-Bledsoe, Parcells is pro-Romo. Now that Romo is starting this week against Carolina, is it because he’s the better quarterback, or is it because Parcells wants to stick it to his boss? For God’s sake, could if just have to do that Bledsoe can’t move worth a damn and makes decisions that are dumb even by junior varsity standards? Once upon a time, people concerned themselves with what the Dallas Cowboys did on the field. To loosely barrow from Simon & Garfunkel: Where have you gone Roger Staubach, a sprawling city turns its lonely eyes to you.
Jones has to be careful about his continuous desire to pull all the strings, as he’s had lousy luck finding anybody to work for him between the tenures of Tuna and Jimmy Johnson. After all, Dave Campo and Chan Gaily are, for lack of a better comparison, the James Buchanan and Franklin Pierce of Cowboys franchise history. What’s really looming is that Parcells has perhaps this season and maybe…and I stress maybe… next season to get Dallas where they want to be. We’ve all seen how Parcells gets his teams going in the right direction, then quits. The main difference with these Cowboys is that only in spurts have they’ve been competitive, failing to show any constant forward direction. Thus making for a rather un-Parcellsian anomaly. It’s also well known that Parcells hates front office intervention, though he can’t absorb the responsibility of being head coach and general manager at the same time, as previous experiments proved. Maybe Parcells’ current situation is what he wants after all, as he’s only happy when he’s miserable. And boy does he look miserable (so, then…maybe he’s happy?). Who knows? In any case, a few more weeks of these shenanigans and look out for a clandestine sighting of Jerry Jones and Jim Fassel. For Fassel it’s either talk to Jones or audition to pitch the Sleep Number Bed.
Philadelphia Eagles:
I’ve pretty much had it with this team. For some reason there’s this false believe; this illusion if you will, that the Philadelphia Eagles are among the NFL’s elite teams. Oh yes, in the second week of the season they won an impressive road game against the Houston Texans. You could say the same about America’s military prowess in Grenada. Ever since Rush Limbaugh made the politically incorrect comment that Donovan McNabb was “overrated…because the media has been very desirous to see a black quarterback do well,” there has been an overcompensating backlash about how “well” he’s played ever since. Enough already. He goofed off on the sidelines and even tried to taunt the Giants’ linebackers before that game was stolen in overtime last month. And don’t even tell me how great he looked in the game against Tampa Bay. Had he not gift-wrapped 14 points in the form of two interceptions to Ronde Barber, there wouldn’t have been a sense of urgency to begin with. That late touchdown pass to Brian Westbrook was more an example of shoddy arm tackling by Tampa Bay defenders than a brilliant, Elway-esque, comeback (which wasn’t a comeback anyway because Tampa Bay won). Yet thanks to Rush Limbaugh, McNabb is forever sacrosanct from such criticism. Somehow Marc Bulger, Tom Brady and Damon Huard have fallen well below the radar while McNabb has had his “career season”. Lest us forget that McNabb’s team is just one game north of .500. If the media is truly desirous to see a black quarterback do well, take a look at how Charlie Batch has stepped up in Pittsburgh this season. Better yet, just view the quarterback position with same color-blindness as an offensive lineman.
Washington Redskins:
The Washington Redskins coaching staff is like a collaboration of established musicians forming a new band, and sucking. Think the concept of Derek and the Dominos with the product of Asia. Thus far the “super group” billing of Joe Gibbs, Gregg Williams and Al Saunders has produced only two wins with whispers of a potential quarterback controversy as well. Mark Brunell, whose mobility could be compared to that of a hippopotamus, has been beaten and bruised all season. Though to his credit Brunell’s brittle 36-year-old body has remained largely intact. Despite another crop of mercenary receivers harvested from the Skins’ cornucopia, Brunell has had little time to get them ball. And when he does have time, his receivers, particularly Brandon Lloyd, have run the wrong route or aren’t where they’re supposed to be. Generally pre-season is the time when such kinks get banged out, however, when the offensive playbook exceeds the thickness of the New York City Yellow Pages, confusion is bound to happen.
Confusion isn’t the only problem with the Redskins offense but pass protection too. Last week against Indianapolis, Redskins tackle Chris Samuels gave his best impersonation of a bowling pin; colliding with other lineman and knocking them down while Colt defenders mauled Mark Brunell. As for the running game, Clinton Portis and the four other backs on Washington’s roster have moved the ball well enough, though Portis’ health seems to be a weekly concern. We’ve seen what Ladell Betts can do when given the opportunity, but it remains a question if he can keep his stamina if elevated beyond a supporting role.
The problem with the Skins is ever since Dan Snyder took over the team they simply don’t operate as a cohesive unit. Fewer teams have spent as much on big-ticket free agents only to see them lose their luster once they get to DC. For a team that’s always had one of the most devoted fan bases in the NFL, one wonders about the constant need for such star power. Even a scab team donning the burgundy and gold would fill FedEx Field to capacity. Sure they’re the Redskins, but are they your Redskins; the one’s that played in RFK Stadium back when Loudoun County was still farmland? Like Jerry Jones with Bill Parcells, Dan Snyder has about reached to bottom of his bag of tricks for producing head-coaches. Some say that Notre Dame Head Coach, Charlie Weis, could get pried away if the price was right; even though Weis recently stated that he wanted to remain in South Bend until he died. With Joe Gibbs looking as though the game has passed him by, the Redskins are looking like the NFL’s version of Ishtar.
New York Giants:
As much at the media wants to drum up the significance of Tiki Barber retiring after this season, it’s hardly been a distraction. There’re a lot of other things about the Giants that will likely change after this season. One main change will be in the front office. With Giants’ co-owners Wellington Mara and Bob Tisch dying within the span of a few weeks last season, Giants’ GM Ernie Accorsi postponed his retirement for another year. Of course he could change his mind again and keep working, but if Accorsi’s plan stays the same, then major change is looming. For whatever reason, this issue has been largely unmentioned. And when that happens, it’s doubtful how long Tom Coughlin will hang around. Lately the Giants have been playing much, much better, but the ebb and flow of their play since Coughlin took over three years ago has always been an issue. There’s simply something unconvincing about Coughlin manning the helm of Big Blue. The car may start for a few weeks, then it may need a jump-start, but when one really needs the car to start it fails to turn over…that’s the Tom Coughlin pattern. Just look at how the Carolina Panthers embarrassed the Giants in playoffs last season. One just never knows; as in, when’s the other shoe gonna drop?
What is getting fans riled up is the Giants are playing defense again. The pass rush that was non-existent early in the season is now in complete abundance. It’s a good thing since Big Blue’s secondary is still getting burned routinely and thankfully has some cushion. Michael Strahan still looks young and vibrant even in his fourteenth season, and the push from the Giants interior line play has stuffed the running game very well. This Sunday against Tampa Bay, Osi Umenyiora will be nursing his hip as Mathias Kiwanuka gets his first rookie start. Kiwanuka, or “MK” as he’s known, plays with uncanny quickness, and even better, he’s got a mean streak. Frankly, it’s good to see the Giants look a little meaner in order to jettison anything – and I mean anything – from the Jim Fassel era.
So far this season I’ve been off with my hunches and can’t seem to get off my own campaign to make Visanthe Shiancoe a household name. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink. I’ve done all that I can. But since I like to give my gut feeling, I do feel that Sunday’s game against Tampa Bay will be Brandon Jacobs’ first real breakout game. The reason I feel this way is I get a sense that there’s some resentment to Tiki Barber’s retirement announcement. Earlier in the week, there was some uncharacteristic jawing between Tiki and Michael Irvin and Tom Jackson of ESPN. Tiki even went to the extent of calling them “idiots”. Essentially, there’s a contingent that believes Tiki Barber is a sissy for retiring while he’s still in the prime of his career, and I think Tampa Bay is going to pursue him with a vengeance. Being that Tiki’s twin brother, Ronde, plays cornerback for Tampa Bay, they’ll do all they can to gang up on Tiki in order to show that their Barber is the boldest. To answer that assault, the Giants will launch Brandon Jacobs right into the pits, wear them down, and the let Tiki pave right over them. That’s just a hunch of course, but I’m sticking with it.
Enjoy the games everyone, wherever you might be.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
NO FRILLS, NO WORRIES
Going into Week Five with a 1-2 record, the Giants were a salesman needing a big month to offset a rough quarter. Beating the Redskins Sunday didn’t necessarily constitute a “big month”, but they satisfactorily met their goal. By winning they avoided the probationary letter this week, but to say that they’re in a secure enough position to buy that bigger house would be a bit premature. Management was reminded why they showed some patience. The Giants are reminded they’re only as good as their last game.
Coming off their bye week, the Giants had two weeks to meet, analyze and do whatever teambuilding drills were required to plug the leaks in their young season. There were tons of questions going into this game, with the biggest concerns being on the defensive end of the ball. The Giants, with all their depth on the defensive line, desperately needed some semblance of a pass rush and did; with Osi Umenyiora, Michael Strahan and Fred Robbins all getting a sack apiece. For most of the day, Redskins quarterback, Mark Brunell, was hurried, knocked around, and rarely with enough time to locate an open receiver. That said, there seems to be a noticeable disappearance from first round draft pick Mathias Kiwanuka. Kiwanuka’s play both in pre-season and the opening game against the Colts indicated a somewhat Taylorian presence. He’s quick and mean, not to mention a “find” coming out Boston College. Yet he seems to be relegated to cameo appearances. Why? Granted Michael Strahan still has some “gas in the tank”, but isn’t New York ready for some “MK?”
The other major defensive question was how well would the secondary play. In typical Washington DC fashion, the Redskins have enjoyed name-dropping their much touted “Al Saunders” offensive scheme. It took a few weeks for it to come together, but after the shootout against Jacksonville, it looked as though Brunell got ten years younger while Don Coryell sprinkled some magic dust over FedEx Field. Knowing how shredded the Giants secondary was in their previous three games, it was foreseeable that Santana Moss, Antwaan Randel El, and Chris Cooley could potentially post some career high numbers. It didn’t work out that way, as Chris Cooley, of all people, was the Skins’ top receiver with a paltry four receptions for 41 yards.
What made this victory significant was its situational timing as opposed to overall execution. In order for the Giants to have some motivation to keep playing this season, they had to beat the Skins. Plain and simple. If they didn’t, then questions of Coughlin having control of his team might snatch a morsel of the attention away from Joe Torre’s job status. Still though, (and this is when one goes on auto pilot when discussing the Giants) Big Blue showed once again that they can move the ball with great efficiency only to come up with less than seven points on all but one drive. As most of us know, this is a decades old rant starting with the Bill Arnsbarger era. Granted, the Giants didn’t have nearly as many drive stopping penalties as they did in previous games this season, but they did have a few. The most costly was an illegal pick by Jeremy Shockey that negated an Amani Toomer touchdown. Fortunately for the Giants, they didn’t need 42 points to win. Two safeties would have been enough to eclipse Washington’s lone field goal. Not every victory has to result with an impromptu block party. But this game gets them to 2-2, and with the deadlock in the NFC East behind Philadelphia, this game might be regarded as the springboard that kept the season alive.
Other Thoughts…
Giants Player You’ll Get To Know Better Next Week:
I have a sense that Visanthe Shiancoe, the Giants number two tight-end, is going to have a break out game next week against Atlanta. With the status of Jeremy Shockey’s ankle sill uncertain (MRI results due out soon) it looks as though Shiancoe might get a rare start. Shiancoe, though used sparingly, has shown that when he does get the ball, he holds on to it pretty well. Blocking is not his forte, in fact, you’ll have to go back to Dan Campbell (now with Detroit) to when the Giants had a tight-end that could actually block. In any case, with Shockey going into yet another season dinged up, look for Coughlin to work Shiancoe a lot more into the offensive game plan. Go ahead, read into the subtext on that one if you want. Even if Shockey did apologize for his comments after the Seattle game, I think Coughlin wants to make things a little unpleasant for New York’s favorite Okie since Mickey Mantle.
Giants Player You Got To Know Better This Week:
Tim Carter made a few key receptions Sunday against Washington. He still has to survive at least half a season before we get really exited about him. The Giants have shown patience with Carter mainly because of his speed, though that patience will continue to wear thin if the oft-injured Carter continues to drop key passes and get penalized at the most inopportune times. Each week though, Carter has gained steady ground to show he’s a legitimate third receiver after Plaxico Burress and the ageless Amani Toomer. Let’s see if that trend continues.
Five Other Football Thoughts:
1) I think it’s about time that Bill Cowher really consider retirement. After 15 years as the Steelers’ head coach, and finally winning that Super Bowl which has put him among the NFL’s elite coaches, there’s just a sense that his fire and gumption has evaporated. It’s a like a rock star who’s sold three multi-platinum albums based on angst ridden lyrics and throaty vocals. I mean, after three blockbuster albums, a house in the Hollywood Hills, and a crash pad in TriBeCa, how frustrated can one still be? What’s the fourth album going to be besides something…ummm…acoustic? That’s where I see Bill Cowher right now; as Alanis Moriseette post “Jagged Little Pill”. The loss to San Diego Sunday night proves it.
2) It’s too early to determine if Detroit Lions Head Coach Rod Marinelli is the reason to the Lions’ woeful start. Being that he’s so new, it’s easy to point the finger at Detroit’s GM, Matt Millen instead. It’s likely Millen will be ousted after this season. Too many poor draft picks, too many head coaches not succeeding (though I’m still a believer in Steve Mariucci), too many free agent busts. However, while catching the final seconds of the Detroit-Minnesota game Sunday, I watched Rod Marinelli waddle with a militant gait, like he’s got a thermometer in his lower orifice, with a clipboard stuck in the front of his pants, and I couldn’t help but think that this guy has the leadership skills of an anvil. Now I could be wrong here. After all, if you looked at Albert Einstein, you wouldn’t necessarily think he was a genius. But still, there are those types that strike an intuitive chord right off the bat, and I am sorry, but I’m just so not sold on Rod Marinelli. Based on Detroit’s current winless record, it doesn’t look like his team is either. With the exception of Andy Reid, seldom do position coaches ever make for good head coaches.
3) The St. Louis Rams are the most under-the-radar 4-1 team in the NFL right now.
4) The Dallas-Philadelphia match-up was one of the best games so far this season. But the hype around T.O. returning to Philly was about as overblown as the 1983 TV Movie “The Day After”. For those who don’t recall that movie, or weren’t born then, “The Day After” was about a nuclear attack on Lawrence, Kansas, and for weeks there was mass hysteria about the emotional consequences this film would have on its audience. The day after America saw “The Day After” everyone scoffed at the absurdity of the media hype. I mean, it was just TV…entertainment…and a B-movie at best, even if it did star the late Jason Robards. Ergo with T.O. coming to Philly. For God’s sake, he’s just a painfully insecure wide receiver who can’t keep his mouth shut, not Idi Amin coming out of exile. Extra security my foot, it would be better used guarding the Liberty Bell.
5) If there’s a team in the NFL that could use a youth movement right now, it’s the Buffalo Bills. It’s tough enough that they hail from a frigid Rust Belt city that’s seen better days, but to have two octogenarians run the show doesn’t suggest the Bills are on the cusp of football precocity. Throw in Dick Juron, a yard sale pick-up of a coach, and you’ve got the NFL’s version of Orange Julius from a mall built in 1973. Time for the Bills to find the next Jack Del Rio…now.
Coming off their bye week, the Giants had two weeks to meet, analyze and do whatever teambuilding drills were required to plug the leaks in their young season. There were tons of questions going into this game, with the biggest concerns being on the defensive end of the ball. The Giants, with all their depth on the defensive line, desperately needed some semblance of a pass rush and did; with Osi Umenyiora, Michael Strahan and Fred Robbins all getting a sack apiece. For most of the day, Redskins quarterback, Mark Brunell, was hurried, knocked around, and rarely with enough time to locate an open receiver. That said, there seems to be a noticeable disappearance from first round draft pick Mathias Kiwanuka. Kiwanuka’s play both in pre-season and the opening game against the Colts indicated a somewhat Taylorian presence. He’s quick and mean, not to mention a “find” coming out Boston College. Yet he seems to be relegated to cameo appearances. Why? Granted Michael Strahan still has some “gas in the tank”, but isn’t New York ready for some “MK?”
The other major defensive question was how well would the secondary play. In typical Washington DC fashion, the Redskins have enjoyed name-dropping their much touted “Al Saunders” offensive scheme. It took a few weeks for it to come together, but after the shootout against Jacksonville, it looked as though Brunell got ten years younger while Don Coryell sprinkled some magic dust over FedEx Field. Knowing how shredded the Giants secondary was in their previous three games, it was foreseeable that Santana Moss, Antwaan Randel El, and Chris Cooley could potentially post some career high numbers. It didn’t work out that way, as Chris Cooley, of all people, was the Skins’ top receiver with a paltry four receptions for 41 yards.
What made this victory significant was its situational timing as opposed to overall execution. In order for the Giants to have some motivation to keep playing this season, they had to beat the Skins. Plain and simple. If they didn’t, then questions of Coughlin having control of his team might snatch a morsel of the attention away from Joe Torre’s job status. Still though, (and this is when one goes on auto pilot when discussing the Giants) Big Blue showed once again that they can move the ball with great efficiency only to come up with less than seven points on all but one drive. As most of us know, this is a decades old rant starting with the Bill Arnsbarger era. Granted, the Giants didn’t have nearly as many drive stopping penalties as they did in previous games this season, but they did have a few. The most costly was an illegal pick by Jeremy Shockey that negated an Amani Toomer touchdown. Fortunately for the Giants, they didn’t need 42 points to win. Two safeties would have been enough to eclipse Washington’s lone field goal. Not every victory has to result with an impromptu block party. But this game gets them to 2-2, and with the deadlock in the NFC East behind Philadelphia, this game might be regarded as the springboard that kept the season alive.
Other Thoughts…
Giants Player You’ll Get To Know Better Next Week:
I have a sense that Visanthe Shiancoe, the Giants number two tight-end, is going to have a break out game next week against Atlanta. With the status of Jeremy Shockey’s ankle sill uncertain (MRI results due out soon) it looks as though Shiancoe might get a rare start. Shiancoe, though used sparingly, has shown that when he does get the ball, he holds on to it pretty well. Blocking is not his forte, in fact, you’ll have to go back to Dan Campbell (now with Detroit) to when the Giants had a tight-end that could actually block. In any case, with Shockey going into yet another season dinged up, look for Coughlin to work Shiancoe a lot more into the offensive game plan. Go ahead, read into the subtext on that one if you want. Even if Shockey did apologize for his comments after the Seattle game, I think Coughlin wants to make things a little unpleasant for New York’s favorite Okie since Mickey Mantle.
Giants Player You Got To Know Better This Week:
Tim Carter made a few key receptions Sunday against Washington. He still has to survive at least half a season before we get really exited about him. The Giants have shown patience with Carter mainly because of his speed, though that patience will continue to wear thin if the oft-injured Carter continues to drop key passes and get penalized at the most inopportune times. Each week though, Carter has gained steady ground to show he’s a legitimate third receiver after Plaxico Burress and the ageless Amani Toomer. Let’s see if that trend continues.
Five Other Football Thoughts:
1) I think it’s about time that Bill Cowher really consider retirement. After 15 years as the Steelers’ head coach, and finally winning that Super Bowl which has put him among the NFL’s elite coaches, there’s just a sense that his fire and gumption has evaporated. It’s a like a rock star who’s sold three multi-platinum albums based on angst ridden lyrics and throaty vocals. I mean, after three blockbuster albums, a house in the Hollywood Hills, and a crash pad in TriBeCa, how frustrated can one still be? What’s the fourth album going to be besides something…ummm…acoustic? That’s where I see Bill Cowher right now; as Alanis Moriseette post “Jagged Little Pill”. The loss to San Diego Sunday night proves it.
2) It’s too early to determine if Detroit Lions Head Coach Rod Marinelli is the reason to the Lions’ woeful start. Being that he’s so new, it’s easy to point the finger at Detroit’s GM, Matt Millen instead. It’s likely Millen will be ousted after this season. Too many poor draft picks, too many head coaches not succeeding (though I’m still a believer in Steve Mariucci), too many free agent busts. However, while catching the final seconds of the Detroit-Minnesota game Sunday, I watched Rod Marinelli waddle with a militant gait, like he’s got a thermometer in his lower orifice, with a clipboard stuck in the front of his pants, and I couldn’t help but think that this guy has the leadership skills of an anvil. Now I could be wrong here. After all, if you looked at Albert Einstein, you wouldn’t necessarily think he was a genius. But still, there are those types that strike an intuitive chord right off the bat, and I am sorry, but I’m just so not sold on Rod Marinelli. Based on Detroit’s current winless record, it doesn’t look like his team is either. With the exception of Andy Reid, seldom do position coaches ever make for good head coaches.
3) The St. Louis Rams are the most under-the-radar 4-1 team in the NFL right now.
4) The Dallas-Philadelphia match-up was one of the best games so far this season. But the hype around T.O. returning to Philly was about as overblown as the 1983 TV Movie “The Day After”. For those who don’t recall that movie, or weren’t born then, “The Day After” was about a nuclear attack on Lawrence, Kansas, and for weeks there was mass hysteria about the emotional consequences this film would have on its audience. The day after America saw “The Day After” everyone scoffed at the absurdity of the media hype. I mean, it was just TV…entertainment…and a B-movie at best, even if it did star the late Jason Robards. Ergo with T.O. coming to Philly. For God’s sake, he’s just a painfully insecure wide receiver who can’t keep his mouth shut, not Idi Amin coming out of exile. Extra security my foot, it would be better used guarding the Liberty Bell.
5) If there’s a team in the NFL that could use a youth movement right now, it’s the Buffalo Bills. It’s tough enough that they hail from a frigid Rust Belt city that’s seen better days, but to have two octogenarians run the show doesn’t suggest the Bills are on the cusp of football precocity. Throw in Dick Juron, a yard sale pick-up of a coach, and you’ve got the NFL’s version of Orange Julius from a mall built in 1973. Time for the Bills to find the next Jack Del Rio…now.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
THE SNYDER INN
The Giants got what Sunday’s are generally intended for last week, rest. After back-to-back road games against two of the NFL’s better teams, they’ll have an extra week to prepare for a home game against the Washington Redskins. In theory, the Giants should have the advantage here. But as it’s been incessantly stated, the Giants are generally awful when coming off their bye. They also know that Washington will be ready to play after coming off a big OT victory against Jacksonville the week before.
It’s hard to gauge what kind of team the Redskins are this year. While Clinton Portis was hurt for the first two games, and Mark Brunell was ready to be shipped to the mothball fleet, it looked as though the Redskins were looking at yet another season that failed to live up to the hype. Now after trouncing Houston and beating the bruising Jaguars a week later, the ‘Skins are looking like a team that’s indeed to be reckoned with.
Nevertheless, despite the cottage industry that Daniel Snyder has turned his favorite football team into, when it’s come to winning overall, it’s been a whole different story. To use an everyday analogy, the Washington Redskins are like that poorly located hotel which every city has. One year stands a Howard Johnson’s, the next a Days Inn, and the year after a La Quinta. In other words, lots of new looks but the same old results. Would things be any different for The Snyder Inn?
In 1999 it was The Snyder’s Inn’s turn to see what they could do with this hexed location. The new owner (Daniel Snyder), short in stature but shrewd in nature, has lofty goals and begins to shake things up right away. His first step is to fire the existing manager (Norv Turner). Apparently he’d been there for way too long. The staff was getting complacent; making beds and cleaning toilets with a noticeable lack of joie, not to mention that the hotel was seldom full. Unfortunately it happens to be peak season when this decision is made, and so the market for a new GM is tight. Begrudgingly, Mr. Snyder promotes his Assistant Night Manager (Terry Robiskie) to ride things out, but isn’t encouraging about him being his man for the long haul. Seeing the writing on the wall, Robiskie soon finds greener pastures in Cleveland. Not sure what to do, Mr. Snyder takes a more conventional route, and offers the management of his property to an industry veteran who’s been around the block (Marty Schottenheimer). He’s not the sexiest recruit, but at least Schottenheimer knows what he’s doing. Neither men seemed thrilled with the situation, yet both realize they need each other for the time being. Schottenheimer is known as an old retread who can get a place turned around, but never up to the five star level. He’s also aware that his new boss knows this, and sees that he’s still meeting other potential managers for lunch. For at least the next year or so, Schottenheimer knows he’s got a steady paycheck, but afterwards, well, who knows? Nevertheless, regardless of who’s running the place, Snyder needs to spend money and jazz things up. He decides first to build a modern exercise room (Bruce Smith). Then he goes about building a swimming pool (Deion Sanders). With no limit to what he can spend, he puts in a restaurant that spins (Jeff George); then he installs satellite TV in every room (Dan “Big Daddy” Wilkinson). But where are the guests? Why isn’t the Snyder Inn booked solid three months in advance? Something is still amiss.
So Mr. Snyder realizes his fledgling hotel still needs something else to make it sparkle. No doubt a lot of money has been poured into the place, and people had been taking notice, but what was keeping the Snyder Inn from really taking off? “Ah-ha”, the ambitious young owner thought, it was no longer about bells and whistles, it was about themes and style; an unorthodox way of doing things. Schottenheimer was fine at keeping the books and seeing that the place was clean, but it wasn’t enough to get the staff, or his guests, really exited. While attending a hospitality convention, Mr. Snyder met this hotshot professor from the University of Florida (Steve Spurrier). Apparently, he gave a whizbang presentation that immediately struck a chord with Mr. Snyder. It was all about numbers, big numbers…the kind of numbers that would instantly make the Snyder Inn one of the hottest properties in town. Mr. Snyder had something to prove, and he didn’t like seeing these expensive amenities being underutilized. But Snyder’s ego yearned for more than just proving something to his critics, he wanted to embarrass them as well, and there was no better way of doing it then posting gaudy numbers for everyone to see.
There was only one catch. Steve Spurrier’s theories had never been tested in the real world. While ensconced in the provincial world of academia, he was a star. Some even said he was brilliant, though he never practiced his own work where the going got tough. This posed a huge dilemma for Spurrier, either remain in his cozy little hole in Gainesville, or step beyond his comfort zone to show he was for real. The former gave empty security; the latter, precarious fulfillment. Either way it was a tough call until Mr. Snyder broke out his tattered checkbook.
As he expected, Schottenheimer got his one year managing the Snyder Inn before being let go in favor of a man who was sure to make a big splash no matter what. Snyder, who was no stranger to generating publicity himself, announced a big press conference once Spurrier came to town. He said all the right things, and gave hints about his big plan to turn the Snyder Inn into a stalwart property, though without ever getting specific. At last Daniel Snyder had the guy he really wanted running his place. Happy days were finally on the horizon.
Naturally, things didn’t shoot right out of the gate. But that was OK, Snyder figured the magic lamp just needed some extra rubbing. Spurrier organized various promotions that had worked marvelously in Gainesville, such as Hawaiian luaus, beach volleyball, clambakes and two-for-one Jell-O shots on certain nights. To some extent, he got the locals to stop by once in a while, but what the Snyder Inn desperately needed was full occupancy – overnight guests – to achieve the stratospheric numbers that Spurrier was supposed to bring. It seemed that all Spurrier could do was bring a party atmosphere to a place where people didn’t really come to party. Sure they moved a lot of booze and chicken wings, but the real money was renting rooms to folks with deep pockets -- adults in other words. And after a short while, it was clear that Spurrier’s head was still in the deepest galaxies of the collegiate universe. He was damn expensive to boot.
Once again Snyder was in a pickle. Not only was the Snyder Inn considered the Edsel among local hotels, there was considerable snickering going behind Snyder’s back as well. The gist of the chatter was that the whole is always greater than the sum of the parts, and the fancy, brand name parts that Snyder purchased were grossly overpriced, didn’t fit, and had expired warranties. “He had enough lemons to sink a fleet of barges”, one tradesman said. “But they only made enough lemonade to fill a thimble.” Snyder felt both fleeced and humiliated, but he was smart enough not to fling Spurrier back to the world of tweed and bubbly co-eds; at least not yet. Snyder knew that firing Spurrier too soon would be a huge admission that he hadn’t a clue to what he was doing; which is the last thing in the world he wanted to admit. And since Spurrier was still under contract, and making the sum of a small state’s lotto jackpot, Snyder decided to change things up with a laissez-faire approach. In essence, he was no longer going to be that rich micro-managing owner, instead he was going to let his guys run things their way, have some breathing room…maybe even a little fun. By doing it this way, when Spurrier got fired the following year, it wasn’t by Snyder’s volition, but because Spurrier pushed his head through the noose on his own. Secondly, while letting Spurrier do his little rah-rah thing by himself, Snyder had more time to pull what would be the ultimate coup in his brief history with the Snyder Inn.
Rather than focus so much on the future, Snyder delved into the past. It seemed that distancing himself from the day-to-day operations of the Snyder Inn was doing him some good. He did some research, and went to the library to learn more about the hotel he was struggling to own. At one time, he learned, the location where the Snyder Inn now stood was one of the region’s most prestigious properties, the Cooke Hotel. Adored by his staff, the hotel’s founder, Mr. Jack Kent Cooke, was known as a bit of an eccentric, not to mention a philanderer. However, when it came to running a first class operation, few other owners were ever in his league. It was here where the movie stars, foreign dignitaries and senators stayed. In fact, one of Cooke’s most frequent guests was Bobby Kennedy. So often did the Senator stay at the Cooke Hotel, that after he was assassinated in 1968, Mr. Cooke renamed his main banquet hall the RFK Room. It was in the RFK Room where the hotel’s most glorious memories took place.
Cooke though, didn’t do it all on his own. He was a great judge of character, often hiring solid managers who’d ultimately do even greater things, but there was one particular manager who elevated the Cooke Hotel to the top echelons of the industry (Joe Gibbs). Gibbs was a modest man with a Southern drawl that at first seemed like a misfit for such an established property. Nevertheless, he commanded respect that his reserved manner might otherwise conceal. Despite Gibbs’ illustrious career, he didn’t go without his challenges; showing his resiliency by reaching the pinnacle of success while forging through two labor strikes. In addition, he also had the misfortune of witnessing one of his best employees lose his leg on the job. Perhaps what Gibbs was best remembered for was getting the everyday worker to be as productive as possible. “He had a bunch of these big fat guys working here called ‘The Hogs’,” recalled a former employee. “But after a while those ‘Hogs’ became the backbone of the hotel. They were a hard charging bunch of guys, and everyone else followed suit.” Still though, with all the accolades and adoration Gibbs’ received after twelve years of service, it was time to move on.
While researching, Snyder learned about all the supporting characters that made the Cooke Hotel so special. There was a crazy bartender named Riggins countered by a more sedate concierge named Monk. The poor guy who lost his leg was named Joe. All these different personalities working as one cohesive unit. Snyder thought if he could only get a guy like Gibbs to run his place he’d be set. Then the “eureka” moment struck him, why not try to lure Gibbs himself?
Gibbs however, had left the hotel business all together and was now immersed as a team owner in the world of motor sports. Racing was big business, and watching cars speed around an oval track was far less stressful than running a major hotel. But even if it was an easier lifestyle for Gibbs, Snyder thought, there had to be void from the hotel business that racing just couldn’t fill. Was rubbing elbows with mechanics really as glamorous as schmoozing the Hollywood A-List? Not that the Snyder Inn even catered to the Hollywood G-List, but, well, Gibbs didn’t need to know that right away. In any case, Snyder would keep things open-ended to gauge Gibbs’ interest. If Gibbs still gave Snyder some pushback, Snyder figured he could just buy him off. He was right.
While Gibbs and Snyder secretly hammered out their negotiations, Steve Spurrier started whining about how homesick he was for campus life again. Even the most grizzled alumni were nothing compared to the sharks who stayed at the Snyder Inn. And now of all things, several rooms had become infested with mice. Spurrier tells his boss that if he has to remain in the awful world of accountability for much longer, he just might have a nervous breakdown. “Forget about the contract,” Spurrier pleads. “Just let me go home.” Snyder happily acquiesced, and, just as he planned it, made sure that Spurrier publicly blamed himself for squandering the dream job of working for him. The revolving door spins again.
The announcement of Joe Gibbs returning to where it all began took place on a frigid January morning in 2004. Had the President been shot that same day, it’s doubtful if anyone would have noticed. Of course it was a whole new organization, where the industry had rapidly changed since he stepped down in 1993, in a building that’s completely foreign from the Cooke Hotel. Nevertheless, it was still on the same piece of land, and now he was a far richer man than he ever needed to be. Which made many wonder…what the hell was he doing this for anyway?
Regardless of Gibbs’ motivation, it was pretty clear what Snyder’s was, and that was to tell the rest of the hospitality world to GET OFF MY BACK. Snyder’s attempt to lob a grenade at the naysayers, via Spurrier, only resulted in the same grenade blowing up in his lap. He learned his lesson about gimmicky hires, and now by orchestrating Gibbs’ comeback, Snyder pulled off the recruitment version of D-Day. People were impressed, and more importantly, they shut up. Snyder was finally for real, he hoped.
Since Gibbs came on board, the Snyder Inn has seen a healthy boost in occupancy. Room rates, naturally, have been jacked-up, and there’s now a gift shop where Snyder Inn sweatshirts can be bought for $30.00. Parking which previously was for free, now costs guests an additional $17.50 a day. And for $21.00, one can have a lukewarm cheeseburger sent to their room. For the most part, staying at the Snyder Inn feels no different than paying $36.00 for free-range chicken at a celebrity owned restaurant. Seldom does having one’s wallet siphoned feel so good.
While Gibbs’ presence is still felt throughout the Snyder Inn, he’s relinquished some of the control that he kept in the past. Sales and marketing have been almost entirely delegated to a seasoned professional (Al Saunders), while operations is completely in the hands of another (Gregg Williams). With this management team in place, the Snyder Inn is confident that while increasing profitability they’ll achieve what they’re ultimately striving for, credibility. As for quality control, there are still some consistency issues. Overall satisfaction from the guests isn’t quite where it needs to be yet, and there are some noticeable swoons with the production of certain employees. Job related injuries are also a concern. But all in all, if Snyder’s dream of having a five star property is ever going to be realized, this is the team that’s going to get it done. If not, then it’s time to see the Snyder Inn boast the name of another billionaire with bigger ideas and an even bigger head.
It’s hard to gauge what kind of team the Redskins are this year. While Clinton Portis was hurt for the first two games, and Mark Brunell was ready to be shipped to the mothball fleet, it looked as though the Redskins were looking at yet another season that failed to live up to the hype. Now after trouncing Houston and beating the bruising Jaguars a week later, the ‘Skins are looking like a team that’s indeed to be reckoned with.
Nevertheless, despite the cottage industry that Daniel Snyder has turned his favorite football team into, when it’s come to winning overall, it’s been a whole different story. To use an everyday analogy, the Washington Redskins are like that poorly located hotel which every city has. One year stands a Howard Johnson’s, the next a Days Inn, and the year after a La Quinta. In other words, lots of new looks but the same old results. Would things be any different for The Snyder Inn?
In 1999 it was The Snyder’s Inn’s turn to see what they could do with this hexed location. The new owner (Daniel Snyder), short in stature but shrewd in nature, has lofty goals and begins to shake things up right away. His first step is to fire the existing manager (Norv Turner). Apparently he’d been there for way too long. The staff was getting complacent; making beds and cleaning toilets with a noticeable lack of joie, not to mention that the hotel was seldom full. Unfortunately it happens to be peak season when this decision is made, and so the market for a new GM is tight. Begrudgingly, Mr. Snyder promotes his Assistant Night Manager (Terry Robiskie) to ride things out, but isn’t encouraging about him being his man for the long haul. Seeing the writing on the wall, Robiskie soon finds greener pastures in Cleveland. Not sure what to do, Mr. Snyder takes a more conventional route, and offers the management of his property to an industry veteran who’s been around the block (Marty Schottenheimer). He’s not the sexiest recruit, but at least Schottenheimer knows what he’s doing. Neither men seemed thrilled with the situation, yet both realize they need each other for the time being. Schottenheimer is known as an old retread who can get a place turned around, but never up to the five star level. He’s also aware that his new boss knows this, and sees that he’s still meeting other potential managers for lunch. For at least the next year or so, Schottenheimer knows he’s got a steady paycheck, but afterwards, well, who knows? Nevertheless, regardless of who’s running the place, Snyder needs to spend money and jazz things up. He decides first to build a modern exercise room (Bruce Smith). Then he goes about building a swimming pool (Deion Sanders). With no limit to what he can spend, he puts in a restaurant that spins (Jeff George); then he installs satellite TV in every room (Dan “Big Daddy” Wilkinson). But where are the guests? Why isn’t the Snyder Inn booked solid three months in advance? Something is still amiss.
So Mr. Snyder realizes his fledgling hotel still needs something else to make it sparkle. No doubt a lot of money has been poured into the place, and people had been taking notice, but what was keeping the Snyder Inn from really taking off? “Ah-ha”, the ambitious young owner thought, it was no longer about bells and whistles, it was about themes and style; an unorthodox way of doing things. Schottenheimer was fine at keeping the books and seeing that the place was clean, but it wasn’t enough to get the staff, or his guests, really exited. While attending a hospitality convention, Mr. Snyder met this hotshot professor from the University of Florida (Steve Spurrier). Apparently, he gave a whizbang presentation that immediately struck a chord with Mr. Snyder. It was all about numbers, big numbers…the kind of numbers that would instantly make the Snyder Inn one of the hottest properties in town. Mr. Snyder had something to prove, and he didn’t like seeing these expensive amenities being underutilized. But Snyder’s ego yearned for more than just proving something to his critics, he wanted to embarrass them as well, and there was no better way of doing it then posting gaudy numbers for everyone to see.
There was only one catch. Steve Spurrier’s theories had never been tested in the real world. While ensconced in the provincial world of academia, he was a star. Some even said he was brilliant, though he never practiced his own work where the going got tough. This posed a huge dilemma for Spurrier, either remain in his cozy little hole in Gainesville, or step beyond his comfort zone to show he was for real. The former gave empty security; the latter, precarious fulfillment. Either way it was a tough call until Mr. Snyder broke out his tattered checkbook.
As he expected, Schottenheimer got his one year managing the Snyder Inn before being let go in favor of a man who was sure to make a big splash no matter what. Snyder, who was no stranger to generating publicity himself, announced a big press conference once Spurrier came to town. He said all the right things, and gave hints about his big plan to turn the Snyder Inn into a stalwart property, though without ever getting specific. At last Daniel Snyder had the guy he really wanted running his place. Happy days were finally on the horizon.
Naturally, things didn’t shoot right out of the gate. But that was OK, Snyder figured the magic lamp just needed some extra rubbing. Spurrier organized various promotions that had worked marvelously in Gainesville, such as Hawaiian luaus, beach volleyball, clambakes and two-for-one Jell-O shots on certain nights. To some extent, he got the locals to stop by once in a while, but what the Snyder Inn desperately needed was full occupancy – overnight guests – to achieve the stratospheric numbers that Spurrier was supposed to bring. It seemed that all Spurrier could do was bring a party atmosphere to a place where people didn’t really come to party. Sure they moved a lot of booze and chicken wings, but the real money was renting rooms to folks with deep pockets -- adults in other words. And after a short while, it was clear that Spurrier’s head was still in the deepest galaxies of the collegiate universe. He was damn expensive to boot.
Once again Snyder was in a pickle. Not only was the Snyder Inn considered the Edsel among local hotels, there was considerable snickering going behind Snyder’s back as well. The gist of the chatter was that the whole is always greater than the sum of the parts, and the fancy, brand name parts that Snyder purchased were grossly overpriced, didn’t fit, and had expired warranties. “He had enough lemons to sink a fleet of barges”, one tradesman said. “But they only made enough lemonade to fill a thimble.” Snyder felt both fleeced and humiliated, but he was smart enough not to fling Spurrier back to the world of tweed and bubbly co-eds; at least not yet. Snyder knew that firing Spurrier too soon would be a huge admission that he hadn’t a clue to what he was doing; which is the last thing in the world he wanted to admit. And since Spurrier was still under contract, and making the sum of a small state’s lotto jackpot, Snyder decided to change things up with a laissez-faire approach. In essence, he was no longer going to be that rich micro-managing owner, instead he was going to let his guys run things their way, have some breathing room…maybe even a little fun. By doing it this way, when Spurrier got fired the following year, it wasn’t by Snyder’s volition, but because Spurrier pushed his head through the noose on his own. Secondly, while letting Spurrier do his little rah-rah thing by himself, Snyder had more time to pull what would be the ultimate coup in his brief history with the Snyder Inn.
Rather than focus so much on the future, Snyder delved into the past. It seemed that distancing himself from the day-to-day operations of the Snyder Inn was doing him some good. He did some research, and went to the library to learn more about the hotel he was struggling to own. At one time, he learned, the location where the Snyder Inn now stood was one of the region’s most prestigious properties, the Cooke Hotel. Adored by his staff, the hotel’s founder, Mr. Jack Kent Cooke, was known as a bit of an eccentric, not to mention a philanderer. However, when it came to running a first class operation, few other owners were ever in his league. It was here where the movie stars, foreign dignitaries and senators stayed. In fact, one of Cooke’s most frequent guests was Bobby Kennedy. So often did the Senator stay at the Cooke Hotel, that after he was assassinated in 1968, Mr. Cooke renamed his main banquet hall the RFK Room. It was in the RFK Room where the hotel’s most glorious memories took place.
Cooke though, didn’t do it all on his own. He was a great judge of character, often hiring solid managers who’d ultimately do even greater things, but there was one particular manager who elevated the Cooke Hotel to the top echelons of the industry (Joe Gibbs). Gibbs was a modest man with a Southern drawl that at first seemed like a misfit for such an established property. Nevertheless, he commanded respect that his reserved manner might otherwise conceal. Despite Gibbs’ illustrious career, he didn’t go without his challenges; showing his resiliency by reaching the pinnacle of success while forging through two labor strikes. In addition, he also had the misfortune of witnessing one of his best employees lose his leg on the job. Perhaps what Gibbs was best remembered for was getting the everyday worker to be as productive as possible. “He had a bunch of these big fat guys working here called ‘The Hogs’,” recalled a former employee. “But after a while those ‘Hogs’ became the backbone of the hotel. They were a hard charging bunch of guys, and everyone else followed suit.” Still though, with all the accolades and adoration Gibbs’ received after twelve years of service, it was time to move on.
While researching, Snyder learned about all the supporting characters that made the Cooke Hotel so special. There was a crazy bartender named Riggins countered by a more sedate concierge named Monk. The poor guy who lost his leg was named Joe. All these different personalities working as one cohesive unit. Snyder thought if he could only get a guy like Gibbs to run his place he’d be set. Then the “eureka” moment struck him, why not try to lure Gibbs himself?
Gibbs however, had left the hotel business all together and was now immersed as a team owner in the world of motor sports. Racing was big business, and watching cars speed around an oval track was far less stressful than running a major hotel. But even if it was an easier lifestyle for Gibbs, Snyder thought, there had to be void from the hotel business that racing just couldn’t fill. Was rubbing elbows with mechanics really as glamorous as schmoozing the Hollywood A-List? Not that the Snyder Inn even catered to the Hollywood G-List, but, well, Gibbs didn’t need to know that right away. In any case, Snyder would keep things open-ended to gauge Gibbs’ interest. If Gibbs still gave Snyder some pushback, Snyder figured he could just buy him off. He was right.
While Gibbs and Snyder secretly hammered out their negotiations, Steve Spurrier started whining about how homesick he was for campus life again. Even the most grizzled alumni were nothing compared to the sharks who stayed at the Snyder Inn. And now of all things, several rooms had become infested with mice. Spurrier tells his boss that if he has to remain in the awful world of accountability for much longer, he just might have a nervous breakdown. “Forget about the contract,” Spurrier pleads. “Just let me go home.” Snyder happily acquiesced, and, just as he planned it, made sure that Spurrier publicly blamed himself for squandering the dream job of working for him. The revolving door spins again.
The announcement of Joe Gibbs returning to where it all began took place on a frigid January morning in 2004. Had the President been shot that same day, it’s doubtful if anyone would have noticed. Of course it was a whole new organization, where the industry had rapidly changed since he stepped down in 1993, in a building that’s completely foreign from the Cooke Hotel. Nevertheless, it was still on the same piece of land, and now he was a far richer man than he ever needed to be. Which made many wonder…what the hell was he doing this for anyway?
Regardless of Gibbs’ motivation, it was pretty clear what Snyder’s was, and that was to tell the rest of the hospitality world to GET OFF MY BACK. Snyder’s attempt to lob a grenade at the naysayers, via Spurrier, only resulted in the same grenade blowing up in his lap. He learned his lesson about gimmicky hires, and now by orchestrating Gibbs’ comeback, Snyder pulled off the recruitment version of D-Day. People were impressed, and more importantly, they shut up. Snyder was finally for real, he hoped.
Since Gibbs came on board, the Snyder Inn has seen a healthy boost in occupancy. Room rates, naturally, have been jacked-up, and there’s now a gift shop where Snyder Inn sweatshirts can be bought for $30.00. Parking which previously was for free, now costs guests an additional $17.50 a day. And for $21.00, one can have a lukewarm cheeseburger sent to their room. For the most part, staying at the Snyder Inn feels no different than paying $36.00 for free-range chicken at a celebrity owned restaurant. Seldom does having one’s wallet siphoned feel so good.
While Gibbs’ presence is still felt throughout the Snyder Inn, he’s relinquished some of the control that he kept in the past. Sales and marketing have been almost entirely delegated to a seasoned professional (Al Saunders), while operations is completely in the hands of another (Gregg Williams). With this management team in place, the Snyder Inn is confident that while increasing profitability they’ll achieve what they’re ultimately striving for, credibility. As for quality control, there are still some consistency issues. Overall satisfaction from the guests isn’t quite where it needs to be yet, and there are some noticeable swoons with the production of certain employees. Job related injuries are also a concern. But all in all, if Snyder’s dream of having a five star property is ever going to be realized, this is the team that’s going to get it done. If not, then it’s time to see the Snyder Inn boast the name of another billionaire with bigger ideas and an even bigger head.
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