Playoff Prognostications Extra - My Picks Are Here!

(For those who are curious, Bill's picks are contained in the post following this one. He's having a little internet trouble this week...something about too much porn blowing up his servers...)

Last Week
Bill 2-2
Van 2-2

Playoffs
Bill 5-3
Van 4-4

First off, I would like to concede the playoff portion of the picks to Bill because, frankly, I ain’t got it in me to pick against the Patriots at any point in this season. Congrats, Bill, you lucky (expletive).

Bill: Thanks, brother. You’re a lucky expletive, too.

Second, for those of you who read both of our comments, you’ll note that Bill called me a “yak-licking bastard” last week, and I’d like to respond to that charge. On one hand, I know who my parents are, even if they did occasionally change identities and addresses while I was gone for the day. And on the other hand, yak-licking is perfectly legal up and socially acceptable here in the yurt, although it can become habit-forming…something about the nicotine in the hooves.

Bill: Thus was it spake and thus shall ever it be. This is exactly how people get stuck with goofy nicknames, although not many could aspire to the snappy euphonia that is “yak-licking bastard.”

Once again, back, it’s the incredible…

Bill: You write memos?

NFC Championship
NY Giants vs. Green Bay Packers
Bill – Green Bay
Van – Green Bay

So, there I am, watching the Giants continue their scientifically-impossible bumblebee flight through the playoffs, disposing of an allegedly superior opponent in the Cowboys, when it hit me:

These playoffs now have a storyline: Brett Favre.

Not that we were bereft of storylines, mind you. There is, of course, the Patriots and their “Empire Strikes Back” march through the season. There is also the fact that a Manning is still playing, and it ain’t Peyton…but right now it’s all Brett, all the time.

And there is no proof whatsoever that Mrs. Madden uses the 1996 Green Bay Packers Super Bowl Video to get John out of the Maddencruiser and into a lovin’ mood...but I digress.

Bill: Consider us even for the whole Andy-Reid-in-a-loincloth thing, you yak-licking bastard.

Brett Favre is about to receive man-love on a scale heretofore unknown. It’s so bad, life-long Bears fans (!!) are weeping into their Old Styles about the thought that Farf (dat’s wat da Nort’ Siders call ‘im, Farf...or dat gaddam Farf...) will be going back to the Super Bowl.

Oh, yes, we will be subjected to sepia-toned, slow-motion replays of Favre running with his helmet in his hand, wild joy splashed across his bewhiskered face, right hand raised in a clenched fist of triumph. Someone in the production department will break out his copy of Slayer’s “Raining Blood” for the video highlights package that shows off the thunderbolt from God that Favre calls a right arm, or his ability to absorb hits that would total a Ford Focus. There will be testimonials from current and former teammates and opponents praising him outrageously.

Bill: Actually, everyone else is trying to forget Slayer. I’m white and I think Slayer sucks. Of course, I think Toby Keith and Nickelback are worse, so I’m about to get my card pulled, anyway. Whatever. White people.

And if we’re REALLY lucky, we’ll see that great clip of him running around the sideline and yelling at anyone in front of him “Put ‘er in the ol’ vise!!” which is Farf-ian for “shake my mighty right hand, and cower, brief mortal.”

Bill: I have this horrible confession to make – before this season started, I thought of Favre as a borderline Hall-of-Famer. A compiler. A half-step ahead of Vinny Testaverde. Rafael Palmeiro without the juice. It had been so long since Favre had played well, so long since the Packers had been relevant to anybody south of the frozen tundra, that I forgot he had not always been Tommy Kramer. He was a guy whose image could never entirely be remade from his Vicodin addiction (given the heated competition for depravity in the sports world these days, it is hard to imagine that this was ever anything more than a small point of interest). Now he is gold. Platinum. He is first-ballot, unanimous. He is David Bowie, a guy whose record of excellence covers such staggering breadth that his missteps make him better rather than worse. Watching him play so well this year with such apparent joy probably affected all guys the same way – we all remembered what it was like and envied Favre his ability to keep his head straight about it all. I remember thinking before this year that if he was so great, he would have an endorsement besides Wrangler Jeans (which I do not exactly consider to be a cherry gig). Now he has this big Prilosec campaign in which he never even appears. They just use his name over and over. I can no longer remember what my objections were to Favre’s deityship.

Coincidentally, there will be no highlights of Aaron Rodgers gnawing on his liver in the midst of all this. Rodgers, you’ll remember, was the guy who was drafted to replace what was an old quarterback three seasons ago. Every time Farf hinted at retirement, Rodgers would get all excited and run in with the first team offense, only for Brett to horse-collar him and yell “PSYCHE!!” And the worst part for Rodgers is that Farf could conceivably play at his current level for a looooong time, especially with the kind of toys in place (Greg Jennings, James Jones, Donald Lee, Ryan Grant) that Brett likes to play with.

Nope, it’s all Brett, all the time. Sadly, he will get to the Super Bowl, only to get crushed by the machine that is the Patriots, which will only give people more incentive to hate the Greatest. Team. Ever.

Bill: One more point – athletes get bigger, faster and stronger by the decade. You can only compare a team relative to its own era. Virtually no team could beat even a bad team from a succeeding era. I am sure you have read about the computer model where the 2007 Patriots beat the 1940 Bears 73-0. There is no way, NO WAY, that the 1940 Bears could hold the 2007 Patriots to 73 points. The 2007 Redskins barely held the Patriots to 73 points. All the toothless, demented whiners who think that the 1972 Dolphins could line up and beat the 2007 Patriots are unforgivably stupid. The ’07 Pats would make the ’90 Niners look like the ’90 Broncos, ya feel me? I will not even begin to list the thousands of incredibly logical reasons for all of this. If you don’t know, you can’t know, but it’s true.

Van’s Counterpoint – This is precisely what irks me about people who try to take credit away from the Patriots this season. People act like teams have been laying down against the Pats, as though the ’62 Packers would have fared any better. Here’s a hint: NO THEY WOULDN’T. The Pats have been so dominant this season that one of the chief complaints against them was that they ran up the score. Quoth Li’l John, “WWWHAT?” This is the NFL, a man’s game by any measure. There ain’t no running up of the damn score. But when people are complaining that they were winning games by too large a margin, that they should have called the dogs off long before things got out of hand, that is what I call DOMINANT. This team only lacks the Super Bowl to enter into rare air indeed. They wouldn’t be in a class all by themselves, but it wouldn’t take long to call the roll: 1927 Yankees (110-44), 1996 Bulls (72-10), and 2007 Patriots.

Playoff Prognostications - The Championship Round

A columnist for the Fort Worth Star Telegram once said of the Dallas Mavericks during their early 90’s nadir that you could go to Reunion Arena for any home game and sit in any section and hear somebody say, “What the hell was that?”

Van: I laughed my butt off when I read that. Gotta love sportswriters...nobody, and I mean NOBODY comes up with better snaps than sportswriters do.

All over football nation this past weekend, during those baffling fourth quarters where somehow the deservedly maligned Chargers and Giants both managed not to lose games, the cry went up in unison.

What the hell was that?

I am not surprised at the Colts or Cowboys, both very good teams with enough history of giving it up that nothing was inconceivable (inconceivable!), but I am surprised at the Bolts and G-Men, both of whom I can throw roughly as far as I trust them.

Weird thing was, I had already moved on. Chalk, chalk, chalk, and go drink until I can cash my tickets and roll to the place in the Forum shops that serves margaritas in giant footballs. Y’all feel me.

That’s right. I have spent the last week trying to figure out who would win the Ivy League basketball crown this year. Before you say Penn, check this out. After considerable research, I know only that this year’s Ivy League rep will pull no better than a 15 seed, will be at least a 25 point dog and will not cover.

Since we still have obligations to meet here, let us dispense with the obvious.

AFC Championship
San Diego at New England
Bill’s Pick: New England
Van’s Pick: New England
While it should be cold in beautiful downtown Foxboro, it will not rain, it will not snow and there will be only a mild breeze. What this means is that we have removed most reasonable impediments to the Patriots scoring 50 points.

Will they?

I doubt it. I have nothing to go on here except history. There are very few conference final blowouts. After the performances of Michael Turner and Billy Volek, have we all perhaps underestimated the dynamic duo of Norv Turner and A.J. Smith? These two are like Frederick, Leo Leonni’s immortal mouse who appears to be doing nothing while his buddies are collecting food for winter. Then when all the food runs out he sustains them with the warmth and colors he was collecting while everybody else was working. Maybe Turner and Smith were busy investing energy and resources in their bench, effort invisible until a time of crisis. Yeah, me neither. But something we do not understand is going on there, because a month ago we could all sleep soundly knowing that the idiots were running the asylum in San Diego, and now the idiots are the final sacrificial lamb left available in the AFC.

By the way, I would like to go on record as believing Randy Moss. I am not in any way saying that this is a good human being, an example to which I want my boys to aspire, but the timing of the accusation should be admissible evidence of extortion.

Van: When the defendant is silent for a long time, or says something about “waiting to sort out all the facts” or some other such lawyer-ese, he’s guilty as sin (see Clemens, Roger). When, as in this case, the defendant’s lawyers have already gone public very loudly, especially after Moss’ unscripted comments on the situation were broadcast, it looks like Moss is the one with nothing to hide.
Igor Olshansky, what the hell was that?

26-28. What the hell was that?

Igor, meet Tom. Tom, Igor. Igor, meet Anthony Smith. Ask him how that whole talking thing went for him.

Theoretically, the Chargers match up very well with the Pats. They have big, physical corners who both cover and take measured chances. I have no idea who covers Wes Welker, so see if he blows up, but Randy Moss may struggle here. It may have escaped everyone’s attention in the Fall of Love, but Moss prefers not to be touched, much less jammed.

Van: Here’s your dark horse, stat boy: Laurence Maroney. Check out his recent rushing totals. As you pointed out, the Chargers will be ready to jam receivers and bring the rain to Tom Brady. Don’t think that the Belicheat ain’t already there with a nice little play-action package that gets Maroney in the game early and takes some of the edge off that pass rush. And, as far as Moss goes, remember: all he has to do is get behind someone once. After that, the Chargers corners will be standing on the goal line before they let him burn them again. It sez so right here that Laurence Maroney is the MVP of this game.

The Chargers have the personnel to pressure Brady without blitzing, which is good since the blitzee gets over on that. Offensively, the Chargers run the ball, period. The best thing that could happen for them here is that Ryan Leaf, erm, Phillip Rivers is unable to go. And I realize this is heresy, and I am not saying that LaDainian Tomlinson is not the best running back of our generation, but if you had to sign only one running back for the next three years, given LT’s odometer, wouldn’t you consider making Michael Turner be your one?

Van: In the 88 year history of the NFL, only 27 players have more than 2,000 carries for a career. Only 6 have more than 3,000. Only Emmitt Smith has more than 4,000. Your boy LT is one of those with 2,000 carries. Just sayin'...

Belichick has them ready to play, and papa has a brand new bag of toys. You see at least three looks out of the Patriots this game that you have not seen all year, Norv and the rest of the Idiots struggle to adjust, the Patriots move to 18-0.

Quick Slants - Nobody Knows Nothin'

Duuuuude...

When did the NFL Playoffs become the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament?

Right now, holes are being dug in the desert as a direct result of Sunday’s events, and I can barely be heard for the sound of Cadillacs laying rubber as they leave Atlantic City and Vegas in something of a hurry.

If there is one thing that is disappointing about both upsets, its that we could probably see them coming if we were honest.

Yes, the Chargers and the Giants have their flaws, most notably at QB, where, oddly enough, these guys were essentially traded for each other. Funny ol’ world, ain’t it, when the guy who should be ‘backing the Bolts is backing the Gints and vice versa...

Still, it ain’t like we haven’t seen this from either the Colts or the Cowboys before.

Before last season, Peyton Manning was going out like a hyper version of Dan Marino, all records and no rings.

The Cowboys? Ofer the franchise in Super wins since Jimmy Johnson’s players got old and retired to the Hall of Fame. For perspective’s sake, most of us don’t own cars that were brand new when the ‘Boys last hoisted the Lombardi Trophy.

All that said, the whole reason that the NFL re-seeds for the playoffs is to make sure that the best teams have the best chances to get through to the Super Bowl. First round byes, up until this season, have been damn near guarantees that the home team would play in their conference championship game.

Quoth Bill Murray, “And then...depression set in.”

Someone, anyone, please tell me how the Chargers beat the Colts. I know the score. I know who did what. I know who got hurt. It still just doesn’t add up.

In the name of all that’s holy, isn’t Norv Turner coaching the Chargers? Since when did he grow a brain?

And speaking of growing things, something must have dropped for Philip Rivers because his voice got deep all of a sudden and he’s getting hair in funny places, based on the game he turned in.

If Tony Dungy is so consumed with retirement talk that he can’t be bothered to defend his Super Bowl title, then he needs to be retired, period. There is absolutely no excuse for getting outcoached by a playoff tyro in Turner. None.
As far as the Cowboys go, it is official: Yoko Romo is going to get blamed waaaay more for this loss than she should.

Last I checked, she wasn’t the one in charge of keeping the Giant pass rush in check.

See, if someone figures out a way to keep Tony Romo from running for his life in the second half, he can probably make some better choices with the football.

Then, too, someone should probably get Patrick Crayton some stick’um...so that he can lock his lips shut and catch the damn football.

Good on the Chargers. Good on the Giants. Good on both Philip Rivers and Eli Manning, quarterbacks who have been maligned this season, and deservedly so. They have not played to the level of the QBs remaining in this tournament, guys like Brett Favre or (genuflect) Tom Brady. But they clearly brought their “A” games this weekend, when their teams needed them the most.

Good on Norv Turner. If I gave him the blame for the Chargers underachieving earlier in this season, then fairness demands that I give him the credit for righting the ship and actually improving on last season’s finish, something that I never thought would be possible.

Good on Tom Coughlin. This guy must know something about football, because it looked like his team was going to make him walk the plank earlier this season, and now they would open a vein for him.

At this point, nothing is automatic, except the outcome of the Patriots-Chargers game next weekend. If Rivers and LT are both hurting next week...fuggeddaboudit.

Can the Giants go to Green Bay and continue their road warrior ways all the way to the Super Bowl? Don’t ask me; I’ve only picked them to lose twice, and both times they’ve made me look like an idiot. Eli Manning has yet to have an Eli Manning game...but I reserve the right to remain skeptical. After all, I’ve seen this before from him. What I want is consistency. If he were (here we go) his brother, I’d love the Giants’ chances in Green Bay. So far, he has upheld the family name with honor. Can he keep it up?

I don’t know, but now it looks like this year’s Super Bowl is going to have a story line after all: sentimental favorite Brett Favre, versus the blue meanie Patriots.

And wouldn’t it be fitting for the Patriots to cap off the most dominant season in NFL history, only to be reviled for doing it to Brett By-God Favre?

More later...

Divisional Round Prognostications - Better Late Than Never, Part Deux

(Van: See, these picks would have been posted on time, but apparently Bill still checks his e-mail with that damn smoke signal ISP that they use in Denver. Here in the yurt, we got the dish and wireless DSL baby...)

The interminable NFL off-season begins slowly in Denver.

Even as Van and I dwell on the positive, because we are positive guys, it is already the off-season for 99% of the world. In the Walker yurt in Outer Korea, for instance, it is the off-season 24/7/365. Think about that the next time you complain about your small kitchen.

Anyway, in Denver we do not fire people. We cut people in the middle of the season, we have assistants fly off to save Houston, but we do not fire people. If you do not fire anybody, you cannot hire anybody. The Senior Bowl and East-West Shrine Game practices have not started and the combines are months away. Even free agent players are still technically under contract, so we cannot talk to them or about them (which is not to say that we don’t, it is just very quiet, because Kommisar Goodell don’t take no mess).

Van: Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?

But much like “it’s noon somewhere,” the NFL season marches on for some teams, so local markets still have to cover it. Our last two weeks in Denver have consisted of variations on two themes:

1. Mike Shanahan is our coach. The Rocky Mountain New needs Van, if only because he wants Leatherface fired. Shanahan holds a grudge like no other. Heck, 9 out of 10 elderly Jewish women say, “oi vey, he never lets anything go.” What this means is that if you want to write sports in this town, you cannot call for Shanahan’s head. Ever. Because if you don’t get it, you won’t get anything for the rest of your tenure, and it’s off to the Amarillo Star for you.
2. Brandon Marshall is really good. Marshall, like the rest of the ’06 second-string, blew up when Cutler got the start last year and has not really looked back. He does not have the world’s most reliable hands and he has to visibly man up to go over the middle (although he will, and that’s the whole point), but Marshall is an awesome physical specimen that is apparently impossible to tackle. Among the sidebar points to this non-story is that we will not miss head case Javon Walker (not to be confused with Javan Walker, whom we already miss) and that Marshall is living proof that Leatherface can evaluate talent and deploy it.

Van: “Leatherface can evaluate talent and deploy it”? See, somebody cue DMX’s “Party Up” because y’all gon’ make me lose my mind, up in here, up in here...anybody besides me remember Kyle Johnson, fullback? He was on the team for five whole days before taking it in the neck. Or, perhaps you might remember the revolving door that is punter. And we ain’t even gonna start with the defense, where your mans Jim Bates fell on his sword after watching new faces show up in practice on a nearly daily basis. And does the name Selvin Young ring any bells? In a lot of ways, this was worse than watching Shenanigans switch Bells on us last season, because Travis “Puffy” Henry obviously had a lot more on his mind than football, and Young could advance the pigskin with alacrity when called upon...not that he was called upon as often as he might’ve with a coach that recognizes talent, mind you...gaaaaaaah! Whatever hold Rasputin Shanahan has over Pat Bowlen, it’s waaaay beyond pictures with farm animals...

I love the off-season.

Now, then. For those about to rock…

Jacksonville at New England
Bill’s Pick: New England
Van’s Pick: New England
I am more tempted to take the opposing team here than at any other time this season. I love Jacksonville. I admit defeat, I admit wrongdoing, and I admit that Jack Del Rio has way more business being an NFL head coach than I do. Starting Fred Taylor was smart. It allowed Del Rio to deploy Maurice Jones-Drew, his Best Offensive Player, in different ways. It is no small deal that MoJo returns some kicks for the Jagwads. He is a game-changing force at the position, and as anyone whose idiot special teams coach cannot keep the ball away from Devin Hester (twice) can tell you, a game changer at kick returner truly changes the game. It helps that Taylor had perhaps his best pro season in justifying Del Rio’s faith. And who questions the Garrard over Leftwich decision now? I like the Jags in this game because they do what they do. Any team that controls the line of scrimmage on both sides of the ball can win any game, and I guarantee you that in a private moment, Bill Belichick muttered expletives when the Jags beat the Steelers, because he is more scared of them than he is of the Colts. This is not to say that they are better than the Colts, only that they create much bigger problems for the Pats, whose D-line play has been spotty and who are run defense deficient.

Van: And, having said all that, Tom Brady finds Randy Moss behind/over the top/in front of/beside the defense for a couple of scores that will put the Jags behind and...cue closing credits.

San Diego at Indianapolis
Bill’s Pick: Indianapolis
Van’s Pick: Indianapolis
OK, second verse, same as the first. Is there anybody who thinks that Norv The *&$%ing Idiot Turner is a better songwriter than Marty Schottenheimer? This Charger team has locker room issues, which are always OK when you are winning, but in the second quarter when the Colts go up 21, don’t turn off your television. The fun is just beginning. You can stick around and watch the Bolts’ sideline turn into the Spears’ house.

Van: Here’s your bar bet for the game: who does LT go after first? Turner or Philip Rivers? Because somebody’s getting slugged...and, in other news, morning follows night.

The Rocket In The Docket

Whoever is in charge of giving a story legs, thank you sooooo much for the current Roger Clemens steroid fiasco.

This thing is the gift that just keeps on giving.

First, Clemens and Andy Pettitte get outed for using illegal performance enhancers by their former trainer Brian McNamee in the Mitchell Report.

Then, giving tons of credibility to the charges that McNamee made in the report, Pettitte ‘fesses up and cops to having done exactly what McNamee said he did.

Then we get 24 days of utter silence from The Rajah, while every right-thinking person in the western hemisphere is wondering why it’s taking so long for him to respond…unless, of course, there is some truth to McNamee’s claim, in which case the time taken is being used to rev up the spin cycle.

While waiting for something, anything, from Clemens, this knucklehead releases a video to YouTube (!!), denying all charges. YouTube? YouTube??

What, the Weekly World News couldn’t squeeze him in under the banner headline about the two-headed cows being abducted by aliens? But wait…there’s more.

Sure enough, Clemens stages an “interview” on 60 Minutes that should have shamed the company that gave us Edward R. Murrow and investigative journalism. Had this sham been any more softballish, there would be a keg of beer at each base.

Next, we get a lawsuit (!!), where Clemens is suing McNamee for defamation of character. Just for kicks, I went to a legal website to read up on defamation of character, and the site was quick to advise that proving defamation is difficult under the best of circumstances, even if the defendant is lying. Basically, Clemens is trying to curry any public favor he can by saying, “See? I’m suing…” even though this kind of suit rarely pays off.

Finally, there’s this spurious “tape” that Clemens and his people have been playing, claiming that McNamee is recanting.

All of this, had it been done by itself, is enough to keep me writing for the next year…but it only gets better.

Like Doyle Brunson holding the case ace on a royal flush, McNamee’s lawyers have re-raised every time Clemens pushes into the pot because they know they are holding the best cards.

When Clemens went semi-public on YouTube, McNamee’s lawyers immediately called on him to meet the real press.

When Clemens denied having ever used steroids, McNamee’s lawyers double-dog dared him to make the same statements under oath.

When Clemens and his camp began running selected excerpts of this phone conversation to friendly media outlets, McNamee’s lawyers have rightly demanded that Clemens’ camp turn over the entire tape willingly…or, absent that, that the tape be subpoenaed into evidence.

See, here’s the point: no matter what Clemens “seems to” say, McNamee’s lawyers have responded aggressively and in a way that Joe Couch Potato can readily understand, because it makes sense.

Videos on YouTube? Try talking to a room full of ink-stained wretches that are smelling blood.

Namby-pamby denials and running your mouth to friendly interviewers? Try saying the same thing under oath, tough guy.

Oh, you have a tape? Great. Let’s all sit down and listen to the whole thing together, you, me, and a big ol’ press contingent, and lets see what’s really on that tape, J. Edgar…

Unless, of course, you have reasons for not wanting to meet with reporters in a genuine question-and-answer press conference…y’know, because they might ask you the kind of questions that Mike Wallace conveniently left out.

Questions like: so what’s on the whole tape?

What took you so long to respond?

Why have you responded like this?

Why did you need to get injected in your buttocks with lidocaine? Does numbing your butt help you pitch better?

Why did you need to get injected with B-12 at all? Seems to me that you get the same benefit from swallowing a completely legal and over-the-counter pill with B-12, like, say, a Flintstones Chewable…

And the real question, the one that Clemens absolutely cannot avoid:

Why would McNamee tell the truth about Pettitte and lie about you, especially since he had to know that to lie under those circumstances would lead to all kinds of nasty legal problems later…and especially since he didn’t have to say a stinkin’ thing?

The best part is yet to come. Clemens will have to face the music soon, and this time he will be under oath

It sez so right here that you will hear the finest parsing of the English language since William Jefferson Clinton debated what the definition of “is” is…

Stay tuned.

Playoff Prognostications - The Wild Card Round

Like Gordon Gano warned you back in the day, “I hope you know this will go down on your permanent record.”

The best way to get caught doing anything stupid is have a permanent record of it. You should not, for instance, allow yourself to be photographed giving the Soviet ambassador the finger. You should not both play college basketball and have your picture taken in a hot tub with a guy whose nickname is “The Fixer.” You should not have your picture taken on your own freakin’ boat with a hot woman in a bikini who is not your wife.

If you are engaging in insider trading, do not communicate by memorandum. If you are going to sell out your country to an invading army, do not send them letters about it. If you bribe a recruit, do not send them a check.

These things will get you caught.

I recently found a love letter I wrote to my wife when we were dating. Not only was I an unbelievable wuss, but it was not very well written. In my senior high school picture, I am rocking, no kidding, a mullet.

Van: My sister Ellen is holding a picture of me back in the day with the full, blowout afro. She’s waiting until I do something that’s worth coin of the realm before releasing it to the world wide web.

Before the season, Van and I let you know. We dropped science. We served notice.

We were idiots, and we have proof, because we wrote it down.

So, now that the playoffs are set, let’s review the All-Singing, All-Dancing, Holy-Funkin’-Cow Big Dog Pre-Season AFC Extravaganza:

AFC East
Bill’s Pick: New England
Van’s Pick: New England
The writing on the wall was apparently large enough for the blind to read.

Van: Seriously, there was no way not to make this pick.

AFC North
Bill’s Pick: Baltimore Ravens
Van’s Pick: Baltimore Ravens
When Brian Billick came out into the parking lot with his cardboard box full of his stuff, I held him down and Van beat him. The Ravens should go after his signing bonus and make him give his gold medal back.

Van: Actually, I’m thinking that the Ravens could just leave Billick in a locked room with Ray Lewis...and cue Pantera’s “Five Minutes Alone” after the door closes...

AFC South
Bill’s Pick: Jacksonville
Van’s Pick: Indianapolis
Van was right, and I was not as wrong as I could have been (see AFC North).

Van: Actually, there’s no shame here at all. Right now, Jacksonville is arguably the other “it” team of the AFC...although I still believe that the Colts will have something to say about who eventually goes to the Super Bowl.

AFC West
Bill’s Pick: San Diego
Van’s Pick: San Diego
The best part of this was where I was like, “I don’t think Norv Turner can screw this up,” and Van went all Lee Corso like, “not so fast, my friend.” I honestly don’t know which one of us got that right.

Van: Yup, we got it right and neither of us trusts these guys farther than we can throw them.

AFC Wild Card #1
Bill’s Pick: Pittsburgh Steelers
Van’s Pick: Cincinnati Bengals
Right. Me with a bullet…

Van: Talk about the friggin’ wheels coming off...

AFC Wild Card #2
Bill’s Pick: Cincinnati Bengals
Van’s Pick: Tennessee Titans
…and Van catches the bullet and throws it back at me. We continue drinking and put the video on YouTube. People worldwide don’t get it.

Van: Before I go breaking my arm patting myself on the back for this one, I have to admit that Tennessee was fairly brutal this season and needed to beat a half-asleep Colts team to sneak in...not what I expected at all.

Make sure you check out my site, because our NFC picks were truly brutal. Especially his, because regardless of football acumen, I am better-looking and more erudite than Van. And I have pictures of him with the yak.

Van: The yak was consenting.

Tennessee at San Diego
Bill’s Pick: San Diego
Van’s Pick: San Diego
Mr. Brown knew enough to give the ball to LT, and by Week 12, Norv The *&%$ing Idiot Turner caught up with him. This coincided with A.J. Smith’s vote of confidence. By the way, A.J., Mr. Brown is my three year-old son’s bear. He’s missing like 80% of his stuffing. Unfortunately, LT hates his quarterback and now that I think about it, I don’t like him much, either. So this will be the last time you see the Bolts picked here.

Van: I hate picking the Chargers. I just hate doing it...except that I can’t find a single, solitary reason to pick Tennessee. (And, for the record, Alex Spanos is an idiot for giving GM A.J. Smith an extension; Michael Turner will get traded, LT will break something, Philip Rivers will get beat down in the locker room, and Norv “Al Gore” Turner will be coaching from WitSec next season.)

Jacksonville at Pittsburgh
Bill’s Pick: Jacksonville
Van’s Pick: Jacksonville
You remember when poor Howard Deane got torpedoed for a single ill-considered whoop that “just wasn’t Presidential”? Can you put your finger on the Steelers’ last “Presidential” win? November 11th against the Browns. Two months ago. Since then, the Steelers have gone 3-4, with wins over the Dolphins, Rams and Bengals, a murderers’ row if ever I have seen one. When Deane uttered the howl heard round the world, he was already done. So are the Steelers. And you had better believe that the Patriots are sitting at home cheering for them.

Van: Bill, I have to admit it: I was wrong, waaaay wrong, about Jacksonville. I love the way they are playing. They have gotten legitimate production out of both Fred Taylor and Maurice Jones-Drew, without making either man feel like the back-up, and David Garrard has fully justified Jack Del Rio’s faith in him. These Steelers suddenly look like the frauds that I believe San Diego to be, and it would not surprise me at all if this game gets ugly very quickly.

Sympathy For The Devil(s)

Dear Mark Kiszla, Denver Post:

I’m not sure where to begin. After all, as a columnist for a Denver area newspaper, isn’t it your sworn duty to say mean and nasty stuff about all things Raiders?

Where does this completely irrational hatred of a legitimately good New England Patriots football team come from?

I don’t have a problem with irrationality, per se; after all, this is football, which explains why otherwise rational people would pay green, folding cash to see the Bears or the Broncos this season.

What I do have a problem with are the blanket statements you make in this jeremiad against the Patriots that don’t have a shred of evidence to back them up.

Case in point 1: you mention that Bill Belichick can’t be that great of a coach if he had to cheat.

Uh, glass houses and stones, my friend. If you’ll take the Broncos-colored glasses off for a bit, you might remember that the rest of the league was quite incensed with your local team for a long time for, shall we say, “questionable” offensive line techniques.

You say “cut block,” I say “leg whip”…but I digress. Moving along, then.

Case in point 2: you said that “(w)e have the technology to create sports hype, but lack the perspective to appreciate sports history.”

Then, incredibly, you said that the Patriots “…are not even the best offensive machine of the past 10 years,” while making the cheesiest hometown ploy for the champion Broncos of yesteryear. You say that those Broncos could win on any surface.

I can show you that the Patriots have already done that.

16 times, to be exact. Against zero losses. In all manner of conditions. Indoors. Outdoors. Broad daylight. Prime time. Rain, sunshine, heat, cold, from in front, and from behind, they have won all of their games everywhere they have been played.

That is, as you might say, appreciable history.

And as far as that “past 10 years” remark, here’s some more appreciable sports history: the Patriots are the highest-scoring team for a single season in NFL history.

You don’t have to take my couch-potato, blogging word for it. They scored a ridiculous 589 points in 16 games. I have it on the best authority that your beloved Broncos didn’t score that many points in any season…nor did anyone else.

That’s why they call it a “record.”

Then, while deriding the computer geeks who would simulate a 73-0 Patriot victory over the 1940 Bears, you become the same computer geek when you said “…these Patriots are soft, playing a paddy cake brand of pitch-and-catch football that would have had linebacker Ray Nitschke snorting with laughter as Jim Taylor and the 1962 Packers trampled New England.”

Last I checked, the 2007 Patriots will never play the 1962 Packers. And as far as Pittsburgh’s Steel Curtain defense of the ‘70s, that team would not have existed in today’s game because of free agency and the salary cap.

That said, Forrest Gregg would be reduced to a turnstile against Richard Seymour, if not a green smear across the front of Seymour’s jersey, and your friend Jim Taylor would need a backhoe to be taken out of the frozen tundra after meeting Messrs. Vrabel, Bruschi, and Seau. Joe Greene didn’t see tackles as big and athletic as Matt Light, and Donnie Shell only saw receivers as good as Moss in practice…and he couldn’t catch those guys then, so why would I expect him to catch Moss now?

And in any case, neither of those teams went undefeated, for all of their greatness. All the Patriots did was beat everyone in front of them.

No one thinks less of Joe Louis for that “Bum of the Month” group of heavyweights he relentlessly pounded back in the ‘40s, and the Patriots have arguably played better opponents than anyone you can mention.

The only other team worth mentioning, the ’72 Dolphins, played two teams with winning records in their pursuit of perfection (and did I mention that they had two fewer games to deal with?).

The current Patriots have played and defeated seven teams with winning records, six of whom are currently in the playoffs and one (Cleveland) that just missed. In other words, nearly half their schedule has been against the varsity and they still won out. And three of those games (against the Cowboys, the Colts, and the Giants) were on the road.

Just for giggles, there’s that utterly ridiculous Tiger Woods thingy you threw in: “Sure, it’s natural to root for greatness. It’s just that golfer Tiger Woods and actor Tom Hanks make it so much easier to stand up and cheer…”

Tiger Woods makes it easy to cheer? The man is as implacable as death itself and as unreachable as the north face of the Jungfrau. He holds grudges at least as long as Bill Belichick does, and he inspires just as much hate among his competition as Coach Hoodie does.

Anyone else remember Fuzzy Zoeller, before he got exiled to the Chateau D’If for insensitive remarks after Woods’ first Masters victory? Anyone else remember perpetual motormouth and Chicken Little Emeritus Rory Sabbatini, who hasn’t been right yet for all of his clucking to the contrary? Anyone else remember Vijay Singh publicly gnawing on his liver while his caddy wore a “Tiger Who” hat?

Yeah, the PGA tour just loves Tiger. Find a tournament organizer who has to try to sell a PGA event that doesn’t feature Woods, and ask him what he thinks about the Greatest. Golfer. Ever.

And I couldn’t close without pointing out what has to be the biggest, dumbest statement you make in the entire misguided diatribe: you call out Tom Brady as a player.

I’ll give you the first one calling him on being a man (fathering children out of wedlock just ain’t right), but let’s be honest: it ain’t nearly as bad as a guy you see a lot more regularly in Denver, Mr. 9-For-9 Himself, Travis Henry.

But I’ve got to call a party foul on you for the second statement; you remember, where you slow everyone down “…before anyone starts mentioning Brady in the same breath as Johnny Unitas, much less Joe Montana.”

I really hate to break it to you – okay, I really don’t – but Brady is the best. Quarterback. Ever.

Let me repeat that.

Tom Brady.

Best. Quarterback. Ever.

If you compare their first seven seasons, Tom Brady is better than Joe Montana in every meaningful category. He has started more games (94, to Montana’s 79). He has completed more passes (2294, to Montana’s 1627) for a higher completion rate (63% to Montana’s 62.3). He has thrown for more yards (26370, to Montana’s 19262) and for more touchdowns (197, to Montana’s 133), and he even has more interceptions (86, to Montana’s 67)…but that last stat is somewhat misleading. See, Montana threw a pick once every 38.37 pass attempts, whereas Brady tosses an interception once every 42.34 pass attempts. I’ll help you there: that means that Montana threw picks a little bit more often.

As far as that nebulous thing called a quarterback rating, Montana’s is a gaudy 90.5 for his first seven years.

Brady’s is 92.9.

Oh, and Brady has exactly one more Super Bowl title to his credit at this stage in his career than Montana did at a similar juncture.

Having actually seen guys like Dan Marino, John Elway, the aforementioned Montana, the current stat gobbler Peyton Manning, Warren Moon, and a host of others, I can only apply the same logic that Hall of Fame voters used when putting Gale Sayers into the Hall after a truncated career: did you see him play?

No one manages the end of a game better than Brady does, and only Montana and Roger Staubach (and perhaps John Elway) deserve to be in the conversation. No one inspires his teammates more, and here he compares more than favorably with the fabled Johnny Unitas.

It sez so right here that Unitas and Randy Moss would have had a fistfight on the first day of training camp if they’d played together. Brady openly lobbied for him, and their matchup has only been the finest quarterback-to-receiver tandem ever.

Hell, the guy is even Broadway Joe Namath’s match for swinging with hot chicks…and I’m sorry, but not even Namath in his prime could get close enough to Bridget Moynihan for an autograph, much less anything more, er, well, you get the idea.

So, in closing, please feel free to hate on the Patriots somewhere privately, where impressionable children can’t see you.

And if you need to feel better, you can always go right back to kicking the benighted Raiders.

Thanks,

Van Walker
A nobody with a blog and an opinion

Quick Slants - Week 17

So, uh, who likes the Patriots to win the Super Bowl now? Sheesh.

Teams that I’m officially pissed at: Tampa Bay, Jacksonville, Dallas, and Indianapolis.

Just so we’re clear on this: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A MEANINGLESS REGULAR SEASON GAME.

I get so sick and tired of hearing about coaches “resting/protecting” starters because they have “nothing to play for,” since their playoff position can’t change with a win or a loss.

First off, it’s still a game that counts in the regular season standings. Second off, the ticket and broadcast price of the game isn’t discounted because the regulars aren’t in. Third, and this is my favorite one, injury can’t be a factor.

As to the third point, I know someone will say: but what about the guy who gets blown up in the very last game and is lost for the playoffs? Isn’t that coach stupid for playing him?

To which I’d answer: no stupider than the coach who loses a starter in the 3rd week for the rest of the season, or who loses a starter in the 13th week. You can’t plan for injuries. You can’t predict them. They do not schedule themselves regularly. Therefore, you can’t be afraid of them.

This is why the Patriots will beat whoever is in front of them in the playoffs this season: they have been mentally conditioned to give maximum effort not just in every game, not just in every quarter, not just on every series, but on every snap. They don’t take as much as a down off. As far as they are concerned, they can rest after they’ve taken a champagne bath with the Lombardi Trophy.

In particular, I think that the Cowboys and the Colts will regret resting/protecting their starters and letting divisional rivals into the playoffs. Should the ‘Boys have to face the Redskins, or the Colts have to play the Titans, division familiarity could turn what should have been a blowout into a grind…and a potential upset.

Note to Minnesota: this is why you need a real quarterback. “Tarvaris Jackson” is Ebonics for “Kyle Orton.”

Note to Mike Shanahan: this is why you need to be fired. You had Minnesota gutted like a salmon for just shy of 55 minutes…only to need overtime to save the game.

Note to Arizona: this is why big bonuses are a bad idea. If you’d started Kurt Warner all season, you’d be in the playoffs right now. I don’t care what Matt Leinart got paid, Warner gives you the best shot to win every week, and everyone in pads knows it.

Note to the Lions: this is why you need to fire Matt Millen – the team is now exactly 50 games below .500 for his tenure as General (Mis)Manager. Worse, if you only subtracted the total number of Millen Tenure losses (81) from the Franchise History total, and added none of the wins, this team is still 488-472, 16 games OVER .500…The current 7-season stretch of futility ranks as the worst in franchise history (by some 16 games), even worse than the previous 7-year run from 1984-1990, and the end does not appear to be in sight. Since 1957, the last time the Lions were NFL champions, the franchise has enjoyed 16 winning seasons – and Millen has contributed ZERO to that total.

What with all the federal indictments going on in sports, I’m really surprised that Millen’s name hasn’t come up yet…because that guy is flat-out stealing from the Fords.

Note to John Fox: this is why you should get fired. What’s the name of that kid who ran so well in the last game of the season, and why hasn’t he been the featured back all season?

Note to Randy Mueller: this is why you deserved to get fired – Wes Welker in a Patriots uniform. I understand trading a guy, but really…

Note to Brian Billick: this is why you deserved to get fired – you lost to the worst team in decades. Decades. The god-awful Lions would biatch-slap the Dolphins around, and your team lost to them.

(By the way, for those who might have that my earlier rant did not mention Seattle as one of the teams that I’m pissed at, I can assure you that the omission was deliberate. Last I checked, Matt Hasselbeck doesn’t play defense, and this is a defense that gave up 44 points in regulation to the benighted Falcons. 44 points. The Falcons. In regulation, no less. You wanna know why no one respects you, Seabass? 44 points. The Falcons. In regulation. AT YOUR HOUSE. Gaaaaah…)

Note to Cleveland: don’t do it. Don’t. Do. It. Sign Derek Anderson to whatever he wants, then open up the competition for the starter’s job next summer during camp. Whoever wins, your team benefits. On one hand, if Derek Anderson wins, great; he’s a known commodity who has performed really nicely in Romeo Crennel’s system this season, and Quinn gets another season to learn the whole playbook…but this time, from mini-camp forward. On the other hand, if Brady Quinn wins, even better; if he can beat out Derek Anderson, not only does he deserve to start, he will deserve every penny of that monster contract he signed…AND you still have Derek Anderson in case Quinn gets broken.

However, something tells me that the wisdom of bean counters will counter the wisdom beneath helmets and headsets, and that Derek Anderson’s next contract will come from a franchise not located in Cleveland (or Ohio, for that matter), and that Brady Quinn will be given a starter’s job that he still hasn’t earned…and that Anderson will be just fine wherever he ends up…and that Quinn will be the guy who gets everyone fired in Cleveland.

Note to Jerry Angelo: your tenure as GM of the Bears has been spotty, fella, real spotty. For every Nathan Vasher or Devin Hester you’ve drafted, you’ve also drafted a Cedric Benson here, a Rex Grossman there…for every Adewale Ogunleye you’ve brought in as a free agent, you’ve also lost a Bobby Engram here, a Roosevelt Colvin there, and are about to lose Lance Briggs. Do me a favor: forget about the defense this off-season. They will be fine, if you do two things: shore up the offensive line, and break open Virginia McCaskey’s piggy bank and pay the Browns whatever they will ask for Derek Anderson. A big, burly O-line will help professionals like The Other Adrian Peterson and Garrett Wolfe gain yards, and Anderson will suddenly remind Bear fans why those other guys line up waaaay outside the formation. When the offense is chewing up 5 and 7 and 8 minute chunks of the game at a time, the defense will become a lot fresher.

…and I’m OUT like The Browns…dang…