Colts analysis? Sorry, we’ve got other things on our minds in these parts. The quick answer (yes, with an and) is yes, the Colts will beat the Jets Sunday. And it will be fairly close, not unsurprisingly.
No more time to spend on the Colts, however, even though I could rightfully take the entire NFL media to task for lionizing the Cincinnati Bengals for their imperfect win over the Steelers, while demonizing the Colts for their imperfect win over the Jags.
I get it, though, because Cincy beat a better team. … WAIT … whaaaa? Jax beat Pitt? What the hell, world? Sean Salisbury committed this about-face in one conversation. Sheer brilliance.
Regardless, the Colts soldier on. But we’ve got bigger nuggets to point out, bigger fish to fry, and bigger talking points before the biggest college football weekend in 14 years. To wit:
Somehow Tim Keown‘s hung around Page 2 longer than other, fatter, mouthier columnists. However, Tim reached toward the heavens Tuesday, and pulled out a column drenched with common sense, lambasting the idea of workaholic NFL coaches. Supposed geniuses, supposed 100 hour work weeks, supposed wisdom and motivational masters, they are not.
Since everybody’s working harder and longer and taking advantage of technological advancements to acquire a better understanding of tendencies, it would stand to reason that coaching has gotten better.
Right? . . .
Take this example: On Sunday, the 49ers were faced with a fourth-and-1 from the Eagles’ 40 with 45 seconds left in the first half and Philly leading 24-3. This isn’t even a decision . . . You have to try to score, or else you’re simply trying not to get blown out. But Niners coach Mike Nolan — one of the most stern-faced, hard-workingest guys in the biz — decided to punt.
You work 19 hours a day to make that decision? You spend months attempting to instill confidence in your team and then you make a decision that essentially says, “Our offense can’t get a yard and our defense can’t defend 60 yards in 30 seconds”?
Thank you, Tim. Refreshing to hear otherwise, because, well, welcome to the NFL, where conventional wisdom and conservatism rules, for now and ever, and you’re a moron for thinking otherwise. At least that’s what they tell us.
. . .
We’ve been waiting for the worst season in Cub history to end. And we’ve been waiting, all of us Cubs bloggers, disciples, waiting for Desipio’s scathing indictment of Dusty Baker. It’s here today. More polite than necessary, but more succinct and apt than ever:
[Dusty's exit] won’t be a moment to soon, in fact it’s many millions of moments too late. All that he was supposed to be, he wasn’t. He never met an excuse he couldn’t cling to or an alibi he couldn’t provide for his players that he refused to hold accountable for anything. He was billed as a great leader of men, but he seemed more like the substitute teacher who doesn’t ask the class to do any work so they’ll like him.
Can’t say it better myself. Not going to try. The Cubs are broken. But they won’t blow themselves up, because they are the worst kind of team — attempting to stave off mediocrity, unwilling to accept it even temporarily, yet allowing themselves the delusion that they are but a few scant pieces away. Which is, in itself, a condemnation of the future – immediate and far-flung. Sigh. Can’t wait to see Mark Mulder in April, throwing beachballs for the North Siders.
. . .
In fact, our only solace is that right now, as I write this, Mark Mulder‘s certain team is busy with the largest divisional collapse in history. Good for them. Of course, their fans will understand, yet still congratulate, because their team does things the right way. Classy till the end. Ha ha.
Here’s my question — last night Albert “I’m on the Cardinals, so I’m too classy to even have taken steroids” Pujols jacked a game-winning homer. As it launched, he stared at the fucking thing as though it were a work of art. He paused for about a decade, eyes glancing up toward the ball, and he barely trudged toward first, before flipping his bat aside in hubris.
Sure, it was dramatic, and a titanic blast. But guess what?
Announcers would have a field day ripping Sammy Sosa for such a taunt. They’d excoriate Bonds for similar, they’d rail Sheffield, castigate Manny Ramirez, and they would practically lynch Alex Rodriguez, if he showed up even the most insignificant pitcher.
Who calls out Pujols?
Not a soul.
Because he’s a Cardinal. Because they do things – say it with me – the right way. Well, the media world has let itself be pushed around by look-at-me Cardinals fans patting themselves on the back for their eternal, superior devotion for too long.
Maybe after this collapse, the world will stop fawning over the stadium, the colors, the uniforms, and their fans’ supposed baseball acumen. (You’d have time to rehearse your fandom and research your team, too, if you still lived on the Mississippi River, smoking ditchweed in your parents’ trailer.)
Anyway, it couldn’t happen to a better group of people, from management to players down to fans. Enjoy this late-season ubercollapse coupled with the playoff meltdowns of the last ten years. You all deserve every shred of it. Jerks.
. . .
Whew, OK. I’m done being bitter. (Seriously, it’s a huge collapse.)
But not as monumental a sports story as this weekend’s Ohio State University at University of Iowa tilt, under the lights, on ABC, at renovated Kinnick Stadium.
Mister Faded Glory is giddy at the possibility, and a little sorry to miss the day in Iowa City – the old stomping grounds. However, I’m still jacked, pumped, thrilled, excited for the biggest game – to me – in 15 years. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to read a live-blogged Saturday Gameday-through-game’s end recap. If you’re lucky, that is. I may not be fully functional all day.
Oh, you’re wondering about the 15 years? Well, considering that I celebrate dual fandom, the last large behemoth game was in 1992.
The undefeated, new-to-the-Big East, and No. 1-ranked Miami Hurricanes traveled to the Carrier Dome for a meeting with the No. 6 team in the land, and new conference rival Syracuse.
A great game – outstanding. Amazing. Both teams played superb, and Marvin Graves mounted a last-second drive – only to have all-world tight end Chris Gedney fall a yard short of a game-tying touchdown. The Orange lost, 16-10.
Will Saturday’s Iowa game be of the same magnitude? Could be. The Hawks have been so vanilla thusfar that not even their most diehard fans know fully of what they’re capable. Even though Ohio State’s been justifiably lionized all year, they haven’t looked invincible.
So, breathless, all of Hawkeye Nation waits for the chance of a huge upset, of a huge rival, in Kinnick Stadium, while the whole world watches.
How huge is this game? Well, according to the Iowa City Press-Citizen:
Saturday’s game will be the first match up ever of Big Ten teams on ABC primetime television.
Included on the credential list are writers from the New York Times, Chicago Tribune, Kansas City Star, Mt. Pleasant News, Iowa State Daily, ESPN.com and Sports Illustrated (si.com). Over 200 photographers from around the world will be on the Kinnick Stadium sidelines.
Wow, no kidding! The Mount Pleasant News?! You mean the small daily is saddling up to drive an hour up the road only to cover the biggest game in Iowa history? Geez, thanks, guys.
Maybe the Coralville Post will show up too.