God, football is so great.
Saw a great college game tonight, #1 OU Sooners v. the up-and-coming Tigers of the University of Missouri. Ranked #11 coming into the game, undefeated in 2010, and playing at home, MU manages to pull out the big game and, concurrently, the rug from under incipient Sooner-Land dreams of a national championship run this year.
(My pet cat is a tiger, by the way. A miniature, housecat-sized tiger; so, small for a tiger. But straight tiger, seriously. Like, elephant-mauling, on a regular basis. She eats Indian villagers for breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner.)
I mean, so I had no real allegiance tonight. Brett's from Columbia, MO; I was watching the game with him, so of course I was like, Yeah Tigers! Woo! But my dad was born an Okie, he's crimson and cream, so I feel his pain when the 'ol Sooners stumble. But, dad, in true hat-tipping style, I'll say this: you have to grant that OU has one of the proudest, strongest, longest-standing traditions of excellence in the history of college football. They have been #1 before, and they will be #1 again.
But Mizzou, long-suffering Mizzou. They played a bona-fide game tonight: created (and capitalized) on opportunities, corrected mistakes, and believed that they could win the game. Importantly: not that they "would" win, that they were destined to, but that if they worked hard and got some breaks, fate could smile on them.
And: what, then, of my Broncos? I'm about to go to bed, wake up, and find a rabbit's foot to rub. It's the Raiders tomorrow, the schizo Raiders, and they always manage to eff things up for us. It's, it's...it's about this belief thing: the Broncos should put the Raiders down tomorrow, like a dying dog. It should be a shotgun to the head, quick and merciful. The Raiders are a mess, really, but the Broncos are poised on the doorstep. Time to step on through, right?...We'll see...
Sigh. Football.....(!)
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Democracy In Action, Football-Style
I was at a party the other night and found myself wrangling with some former philosophy major about the definition of justice. Justice is a slippery concept, and often subjectively defined; in the case of two opposing parties, what's justice for one is often injustice for the other, according to which perspective you're looking at the situation from. Anyways, to make a long story short, I found myself using the National Football League as an example of a just system. Football is an ideal ground for generating a just system, because the end goal is simple and universally agreed-upon: namely, to compete and win. Everyone involved with football, from the players to the fans, wants to see a fairly-adjudicated contest that determines a winner. Asterisks are inherently less satisfying; everyone wants to walk away from the game knowing, more or less, that one team beat the other.
The NFL never stops trying to make sure that this result is achieved. Discussion regarding rule-modification is continuous, and moves in response to perceived illegitimacies that occur on the playing field. Instant replay is a perfect example. Imperfect when originally introduced, it was often the source of controversy; yet, at the same time, the advent of replay-technology and the god's-eye-view it provided made it impossible to simply ignore. Accordingly, modifications to the replay system were introduced, and it is now a satisfying and important part of the game. The key innovation was to limit instant replay's sphere of influence. Namely, what the rule says is that if the replay doesn't show clear, compelling evidence, then the call stands as it was made on the field by the human official. Written this way, the rule satisfies everyone: both the players and officials on the field of play, and the fans on couches at home watching on television sets. It makes a logical concession to the tv-viewers (who have become an integral part of the modern game), while centering primacy for decisions with those who are actually on the playing field.
I excused myself from the conversation with the philosophy major after about fifteen minutes because he was, well, a philosophy major. But part of why I'm writing this blog is to explore my own deep engagement with football, to parse why I find it so damn enjoyable and satisfying. As such, it was pretty fun to find that football was an ideal reference point in a high-falutin' discussion about something like the nature of justice. Besides, philosophizers don't want answers, they just want to keep talking and arguing and talking, forever and ever. Football gots no time for that sort of b---s---. Football wants results, wants to get things done. Thank god for football. Football!
The NFL never stops trying to make sure that this result is achieved. Discussion regarding rule-modification is continuous, and moves in response to perceived illegitimacies that occur on the playing field. Instant replay is a perfect example. Imperfect when originally introduced, it was often the source of controversy; yet, at the same time, the advent of replay-technology and the god's-eye-view it provided made it impossible to simply ignore. Accordingly, modifications to the replay system were introduced, and it is now a satisfying and important part of the game. The key innovation was to limit instant replay's sphere of influence. Namely, what the rule says is that if the replay doesn't show clear, compelling evidence, then the call stands as it was made on the field by the human official. Written this way, the rule satisfies everyone: both the players and officials on the field of play, and the fans on couches at home watching on television sets. It makes a logical concession to the tv-viewers (who have become an integral part of the modern game), while centering primacy for decisions with those who are actually on the playing field.
I excused myself from the conversation with the philosophy major after about fifteen minutes because he was, well, a philosophy major. But part of why I'm writing this blog is to explore my own deep engagement with football, to parse why I find it so damn enjoyable and satisfying. As such, it was pretty fun to find that football was an ideal reference point in a high-falutin' discussion about something like the nature of justice. Besides, philosophizers don't want answers, they just want to keep talking and arguing and talking, forever and ever. Football gots no time for that sort of b---s---. Football wants results, wants to get things done. Thank god for football. Football!
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Poor Brett Favre
Oh, Brett Fav-Ree. Things aren't looking so swell for you these days. Against the Jets on Monday night, following the weekend's revelations that Brett likes to text-message photos of his wiener to girls who aren't his wife, 'ol Fav-Ree looked horribly old for the first 3 quarters of the game. He looked like a man whose head was elsewhere, quite possibly mulling over the fact that his marriage, public image and career were adrift in iceberg-strewn waters. He threw passes to nowhere, the football just dropped out of his hands (repeatedly) onto the ground as though he'd forgotten he was holding it. He looked like a man with serious problems. Watching his reaction after making yet another terrible play, hands on his head, you didn't need to be a telepath to read his mind: "...shouldn't have sent that text, damnit, I really shouldn't have sent that text..."
And then, suddenly, 41 year-old Grandpa Brett caught fire. On third-and-17 from the Jets 37, with 2:10 left in the 3rd quarter, he reared back and threw a perfect bomb to newly-reminted Viking Randy Moss for the Vikings first score of the game; 'ol Fav-ree ran down the field and leapt into Moss's arms like a joyous teenager. On the Vikings two following drives he was scintillating, firing the ball all over the field with pinpoint accuracy, cutting through the much-vaunted Jets defense like the proverbial knife through butter. And just like that, the Vikings were back in the game: with the ball on their own 20 yardline, 1:43 left and down 22-20, in perfect position to take the victory home. And 'ol Fav-ree drops back on 3rd down, and fires the ball straight into the arms of New York Jet Dwight Lowery, who takes it in with ease from 26 yards out for the touchdown: Jets 29, Vikings 20, ballgame over.
Maybe it's silly to say I feel somewhat sorry for Brett Favre. After all, it seems like he was born to play football, and that's exactly what he's done with his life, longer than almost anyone ever has. But it also seems, given that in-born destiny, that he keeps playing because he simply has no idea what else he could possibly do with himself. When he looks his age, he also looks much older; worn out, beaten-down, like Father Time's personal punching bag.
The diminishing returns, the cringe-inducing blunders, are hard to watch. But at the same time, he is still capable of playing the quarterback position with a verve and skill that is kind of breathtaking. Time will take Brett Favre out, eventually, as it takes all football players, as it takes all of us. Watching him fight it is both sad and oddly inspiring. I hope that he finds the clarity to make a graceful exit, so that the memory of the inspiring is what will win out, for him and for the rest of us, in the end.
And then, suddenly, 41 year-old Grandpa Brett caught fire. On third-and-17 from the Jets 37, with 2:10 left in the 3rd quarter, he reared back and threw a perfect bomb to newly-reminted Viking Randy Moss for the Vikings first score of the game; 'ol Fav-ree ran down the field and leapt into Moss's arms like a joyous teenager. On the Vikings two following drives he was scintillating, firing the ball all over the field with pinpoint accuracy, cutting through the much-vaunted Jets defense like the proverbial knife through butter. And just like that, the Vikings were back in the game: with the ball on their own 20 yardline, 1:43 left and down 22-20, in perfect position to take the victory home. And 'ol Fav-ree drops back on 3rd down, and fires the ball straight into the arms of New York Jet Dwight Lowery, who takes it in with ease from 26 yards out for the touchdown: Jets 29, Vikings 20, ballgame over.
Maybe it's silly to say I feel somewhat sorry for Brett Favre. After all, it seems like he was born to play football, and that's exactly what he's done with his life, longer than almost anyone ever has. But it also seems, given that in-born destiny, that he keeps playing because he simply has no idea what else he could possibly do with himself. When he looks his age, he also looks much older; worn out, beaten-down, like Father Time's personal punching bag.
The diminishing returns, the cringe-inducing blunders, are hard to watch. But at the same time, he is still capable of playing the quarterback position with a verve and skill that is kind of breathtaking. Time will take Brett Favre out, eventually, as it takes all football players, as it takes all of us. Watching him fight it is both sad and oddly inspiring. I hope that he finds the clarity to make a graceful exit, so that the memory of the inspiring is what will win out, for him and for the rest of us, in the end.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Heroin Has Nothing on Football
I don't like watching television. In general, watching TV makes me feel old, tired, stupid, angry. I loathe commercials; I think (hope) that most of the people involved with making TV ads will spend the afterlife in a private circle of hell, staring at a television that shows nothing but ads, and none of the ones that are actually somewhat amusing.
Football, for me, is the huge exception. In many ways, I think that the main purpose of TV is to show football games. There are, oh, maybe 4 or 5 activities in life which I find perfectly satisfying, activities I can engage in with 100% of my attention. Eating is great, but afterwards there is either a bill to pay, or dirty dishes to wash. Sex is obviously pretty cool, but afterwards there's the talking you have to do when you just want to fall asleep. The thing with football, is that there are no negatives. The only bad thing about watching a football game is that it will end, and that I will have to do something other than watch football when the game is over.
This is the beauty, though, of being addicted to football, as opposed to another substance which is equally addictive; like, for example, heroin. I have never tried heroin, and I don't plan to, because it doesn't have the same curbs built into its usage system that football does. I mean, from what I know about heroin, I'd imagine that its effect is pretty wonderful: you take it and everything bad or worrisome or scary in life just melts away, and you feel, well, pretty wonderful. But the problem with heroin is that there's always more to take, and no reason to stop taking it. The only built-in curb on heroin use is lack of money, and that's not much of a curb, really, because you can always get more money; for example, by stealing the neighbor's flat-screen television, which is a really bad thing to do, because then the neighbor cannot watch football.
But a person cannot get "more" football. Once the last game of the weekend is over it's just plain over, and you cannot get more until the next weekend. Once football season is over, you cannot get more football until the next season begins. Football-watching is available only in limited quantities and during set periods, which makes it one of the best addictions available. Having addictions is just a basic reality of human existence. Which is one of the reasons for this blog's title, because without football, I would probably be using a ton of heroin.
But I don't need heroin, because I have football. Football!
Football, for me, is the huge exception. In many ways, I think that the main purpose of TV is to show football games. There are, oh, maybe 4 or 5 activities in life which I find perfectly satisfying, activities I can engage in with 100% of my attention. Eating is great, but afterwards there is either a bill to pay, or dirty dishes to wash. Sex is obviously pretty cool, but afterwards there's the talking you have to do when you just want to fall asleep. The thing with football, is that there are no negatives. The only bad thing about watching a football game is that it will end, and that I will have to do something other than watch football when the game is over.
This is the beauty, though, of being addicted to football, as opposed to another substance which is equally addictive; like, for example, heroin. I have never tried heroin, and I don't plan to, because it doesn't have the same curbs built into its usage system that football does. I mean, from what I know about heroin, I'd imagine that its effect is pretty wonderful: you take it and everything bad or worrisome or scary in life just melts away, and you feel, well, pretty wonderful. But the problem with heroin is that there's always more to take, and no reason to stop taking it. The only built-in curb on heroin use is lack of money, and that's not much of a curb, really, because you can always get more money; for example, by stealing the neighbor's flat-screen television, which is a really bad thing to do, because then the neighbor cannot watch football.
But a person cannot get "more" football. Once the last game of the weekend is over it's just plain over, and you cannot get more until the next weekend. Once football season is over, you cannot get more football until the next season begins. Football-watching is available only in limited quantities and during set periods, which makes it one of the best addictions available. Having addictions is just a basic reality of human existence. Which is one of the reasons for this blog's title, because without football, I would probably be using a ton of heroin.
But I don't need heroin, because I have football. Football!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Ok, I'm Officially Riding My Broncos
Yeah, okay, they lost this week. To the Colts, who, as any Broncos fan knows, have come to be the PeytonManning-faced monkey on our back over the last few seasons. Since when? Well, probably since that ignominious moment when Marvin Harrison scored in the '03 playoffs because none of the 4 or 5 Broncos defenders around him thought to touch him after he went down--on, oh, about the Broncos 30 yard-line--and he played possum and then slowly got to his feet and then was suddenly running to the end-zone all alone. 'Twas a collective brain-fart of a highly embarassing (and costly) nature.
So yeah, sigh, we lost to the Colts, again. But, it wasn't really a mountain I expected this Broncos team to be able to climb; as such, I was able to see a lot of positive things, overall, that make me cautiously optimistic about this team going forward.
Phil Simms, working the booth for the broadcast, related a conversation he'd had with Josh McDaniels about how, exactly, you game-plan for the Colts and that clockwork offensive machine. The plan centered around acknowledging, first of all, that the Colts were going to move the ball; acknowledging this was intended to give the Broncos defense the psychological space needed to deal with that reality. Second, it was about stopping the Colts in the red-zone: if we hold them to field goals, we give ourselves a good chance.
And actually, that plan worked pretty well. The problem was two big turnovers, each of which gave the Colts (and Manning) the ball deep inside of Broncos' territory. Neither turnover was at all forced, they were both just simply sloppy mistakes, and you cannot make mistakes like that against the Colts. You cannot give them extra opportunities, because they will figure things out, and they will make you pay: this is a standard, accepted truth of current professional football.
So ultimately, those two mistakes were the story of the game, in terms of who won and who lost. But outside of that, the Broncos played some pretty good football. They racked up a ton of yards with a passing game that looked pretty versatile: a lot of different receivers, occupying a wide variety of space up and down the field. The offensive game plan looked smart; Freeney and Mathis were non-factors, double-teamed as often as not, and Kyle Orton had plenty of time to throw all day long. Beyond that, there was a clear second-half adjustment in the game-plan to the lack of success in the running game, and correspondingly to the success of the passing game. I liked seeing that a lot; I felt like McDaniels was too stubborn about "staying the course" all too often last season, and it was good to see that's not necessarily one of his firm character traits. It was important for me to see, as a true Broncos fan, that Josh learned from last season, his first as the head coach of a professional football team. That he would learn from, rather than repeat, his mistakes, and this game gave me a good feeling about that.
And: the defense looked good. Yes, they didn't stop the Colts, but no one "stops" the Colts, especially with those kind of turnovers. What I liked best about the defense was the number of strong, sure, secure tackles I saw, several of which stopped Colts receivers just shy of first downs. Tackling is an overlooked art, and it's key to the success of stopping a Colts-style offense. Tackling is also one of the things that Champ Bailey, praise be His name, does incredibly well. Champ Bailey, honest to God, makes tackles that personally inspire me. Seriously. But, too often since the wonderful/tragic Broncos AFC championship game season of 2005, Champ has been the only one on the field who can tackle at all. I think...fingers crossed, but I think that tide is turning. The Broncos defense in this game did, for me, everything that a defense should be asked to do. I am pretty sure that against non-Colts teams, this defense is going to win us some games this year.
In sum? I am, I am...cautiously optimistic. You don't want to stick your head out of the car window and whoop and holler and then get whacked by a tree branch while you're going 50 mph. A 6-0 start and a 2-8 finish, like the Broncos had last year, will teach you that the hard way. The two key elements of this season, for me, are a) I think everyone on the team has bought into it, I think they're keyed into a true sense of team, and b) I think Josh McDeezy really did learn from the mistakes of his first season. I was non-plussed and put off by Cutlergate, by Josh's imperious and clumsy handling of the whole thing. But I am a fan of the Denver Broncos, first and foremost, and I am starting to think that Mr. McDaniels, if he doesn't already know, at least has the capacity to learn what Mile High Magic actually means.
So week 4 looms, and I'm all a-tingle. Football!
So yeah, sigh, we lost to the Colts, again. But, it wasn't really a mountain I expected this Broncos team to be able to climb; as such, I was able to see a lot of positive things, overall, that make me cautiously optimistic about this team going forward.
Phil Simms, working the booth for the broadcast, related a conversation he'd had with Josh McDaniels about how, exactly, you game-plan for the Colts and that clockwork offensive machine. The plan centered around acknowledging, first of all, that the Colts were going to move the ball; acknowledging this was intended to give the Broncos defense the psychological space needed to deal with that reality. Second, it was about stopping the Colts in the red-zone: if we hold them to field goals, we give ourselves a good chance.
And actually, that plan worked pretty well. The problem was two big turnovers, each of which gave the Colts (and Manning) the ball deep inside of Broncos' territory. Neither turnover was at all forced, they were both just simply sloppy mistakes, and you cannot make mistakes like that against the Colts. You cannot give them extra opportunities, because they will figure things out, and they will make you pay: this is a standard, accepted truth of current professional football.
So ultimately, those two mistakes were the story of the game, in terms of who won and who lost. But outside of that, the Broncos played some pretty good football. They racked up a ton of yards with a passing game that looked pretty versatile: a lot of different receivers, occupying a wide variety of space up and down the field. The offensive game plan looked smart; Freeney and Mathis were non-factors, double-teamed as often as not, and Kyle Orton had plenty of time to throw all day long. Beyond that, there was a clear second-half adjustment in the game-plan to the lack of success in the running game, and correspondingly to the success of the passing game. I liked seeing that a lot; I felt like McDaniels was too stubborn about "staying the course" all too often last season, and it was good to see that's not necessarily one of his firm character traits. It was important for me to see, as a true Broncos fan, that Josh learned from last season, his first as the head coach of a professional football team. That he would learn from, rather than repeat, his mistakes, and this game gave me a good feeling about that.
And: the defense looked good. Yes, they didn't stop the Colts, but no one "stops" the Colts, especially with those kind of turnovers. What I liked best about the defense was the number of strong, sure, secure tackles I saw, several of which stopped Colts receivers just shy of first downs. Tackling is an overlooked art, and it's key to the success of stopping a Colts-style offense. Tackling is also one of the things that Champ Bailey, praise be His name, does incredibly well. Champ Bailey, honest to God, makes tackles that personally inspire me. Seriously. But, too often since the wonderful/tragic Broncos AFC championship game season of 2005, Champ has been the only one on the field who can tackle at all. I think...fingers crossed, but I think that tide is turning. The Broncos defense in this game did, for me, everything that a defense should be asked to do. I am pretty sure that against non-Colts teams, this defense is going to win us some games this year.
In sum? I am, I am...cautiously optimistic. You don't want to stick your head out of the car window and whoop and holler and then get whacked by a tree branch while you're going 50 mph. A 6-0 start and a 2-8 finish, like the Broncos had last year, will teach you that the hard way. The two key elements of this season, for me, are a) I think everyone on the team has bought into it, I think they're keyed into a true sense of team, and b) I think Josh McDeezy really did learn from the mistakes of his first season. I was non-plussed and put off by Cutlergate, by Josh's imperious and clumsy handling of the whole thing. But I am a fan of the Denver Broncos, first and foremost, and I am starting to think that Mr. McDaniels, if he doesn't already know, at least has the capacity to learn what Mile High Magic actually means.
So week 4 looms, and I'm all a-tingle. Football!
Week 3: Defeat the Undefeated
The best thing about Week 3 of this NFL season was that only two teams emerged with still-unblemished records; and, that those two teams, the Bears and the Chiefs, are not going to go a whole season undefeated. I got tired of the undefeated talk of the last few seasons, the will-this-team-do-what-no-other-has-done stuff. It distracts from the focus on pure football, in search instead of some storyline that will generate more breathless media-babble. GOAT (Greatest Of All Time) talk is generally fairly silly, given that the majority of people doing the talking are extrapolating from a completely unrepresentative sampling (how many modern writers/commentators have actually seen Jim Brown play, or Johnny Unitas, or Red Grange, or Dick Butkus?). Instead of focusing on whether someone is "the greatest", I'm more interested in hearing descriptive analyses of what constitutes the fact that an individual player is deemed "great".
For example, an article about the nuances of the cornerback position that appeared in Sports Illustrated last year. One of the cornerbacks interviewed talked about the difficulty of defending Randy Moss. Not that Moss was tall, or fast, or has good hands, blah-blah-blah. What the cornerback described was Moss's level of physical control: namely, that when a ball is coming Randy's way, his eyes don't track it, his expression doesn't change, so that there's no obvious "tell" in his eyes or face that lets the cornerback know it's time to turn around and defend the ball that's headed his way. That's the kind of insight that genuinely increases my enjoyment of the game.
So anyway, my thanks to all the Week 3 smashers of undefeated dreams. Legacies shmegacies; let the '72 Dolphins crack open their case of champagne early this year.
Final note: Thursday is a bit late to be writing about the previous week's games, obviously. I am realizing I need to make more time for this blog than I thought I'd need to. So, starting next week, I'll be posting summaries of the weekend's action on Tuesdays, and will find time during the rest of the week to publish a post or two with some kind of special focus. All posts, of course, will feature an unabashed enthusiasm for this excellent, American game we call football. Football!
For example, an article about the nuances of the cornerback position that appeared in Sports Illustrated last year. One of the cornerbacks interviewed talked about the difficulty of defending Randy Moss. Not that Moss was tall, or fast, or has good hands, blah-blah-blah. What the cornerback described was Moss's level of physical control: namely, that when a ball is coming Randy's way, his eyes don't track it, his expression doesn't change, so that there's no obvious "tell" in his eyes or face that lets the cornerback know it's time to turn around and defend the ball that's headed his way. That's the kind of insight that genuinely increases my enjoyment of the game.
So anyway, my thanks to all the Week 3 smashers of undefeated dreams. Legacies shmegacies; let the '72 Dolphins crack open their case of champagne early this year.
Final note: Thursday is a bit late to be writing about the previous week's games, obviously. I am realizing I need to make more time for this blog than I thought I'd need to. So, starting next week, I'll be posting summaries of the weekend's action on Tuesdays, and will find time during the rest of the week to publish a post or two with some kind of special focus. All posts, of course, will feature an unabashed enthusiasm for this excellent, American game we call football. Football!
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Week 2: And lo, there was a tumult
Week 2's posting comes on on the eve of Week 3: collective held breaths will exhale tomorrow into a big dust cloud, and when that settles we'll start to get a clearer picture of what things are going to look like. I write this before heading to bed in a few minutes; I've got a kitty in my lap and a satisfying day in my belly, and the contentment of knowing that all I have to do tomorrow in order to have a really good day is get up out of bed, because tomorrow is Sunday, ladies and gentlemen, and the titans of the earth will be smiting each other all day long. Yea, in their colored raiments, carrying their armors into the fray!
Last week: The Saints waited till the very end and then cut the Niners' throats: a swift and merciful slaying. The Colts pounded the crap out of the Giants, Robert Mathis and Dwight Freeney looked like dragons swarming the line of scrimmage, heat-seeking missiles locked on target over and over again. The Texans took one from the Redskins, they went in and took it, just finally and furiously decided it was theirs; Gary Kubiak tripped up mentor Mike Shanahan with Mike's own little sneaky field-goal timeout trick. Touche, the pupil delivers a lesson unto the teacher. But the Texans looked like a real team, with a real quarterback. They unleashed something; no, I'd say they metamorphosed into something, and it will be interesting to see what kind of havoc it wreaks. Barring injuries, I think the Texans are going to tear some teams up.
And hey, lo and behold, Michael Vick has been given the reins in Philadelphia. Huh. Imagine that.
What else? The Cowboys are 0-2, the Bears are 2-0. Y'know, people have a weird beef with Jay Cutler. I suppose maybe I get it, but at the same time I don't get it, and either way I think it's dumb. Do you like football? Do you like watching someone perform at the quarterback position, someone who can (and does) complete any kind of throw you can imagine? He was born to play quarterback; just sit back, watch and enjoy it. Barring major injuries, 'cause I think they're a bit old and not that deep; barring that, I'm calling the Bears a playoff team. Seriously; he's an artist, and I think he's finally got the tools he needs.
Finally, El Broncos. They won, they looked sharp. And they looked smart: Demariyus Thomas was unveiled, and geez...one game, it's only one game, but man, he looks like he's going to be really, really good. He was their first-round pick, taken before Dez Bryant, and it looks like the Broncos did some real homework and scored. And I realized that the defense looks interesting; I don't want to get too optimistic, I think they're still finding themselves, overall, as a unit; but they looked, well, potentially interesting.
And, more seriously, they lost somebody. Kenny Mckinley, a little-used, little-known wideout and special teams player. Suicide, shot himself in the bedroom of his own home. Sounds like it was a genuine shock; no one seems to have had any inclination, at all really, of where his state of mind was. It's sad, and it's a mystery. It's become a part of the Broncos season now. Not to be melodramatic about it, but Death has become, quite suddenly, a major thread in their 2010-11 tapestry.
But, 'tis my bedtime. Miss Meowski, purring here in my lap, has caused my leg to fall asleep. All right. The Sandman and Week 3 beckon, see you on the other side.
Last week: The Saints waited till the very end and then cut the Niners' throats: a swift and merciful slaying. The Colts pounded the crap out of the Giants, Robert Mathis and Dwight Freeney looked like dragons swarming the line of scrimmage, heat-seeking missiles locked on target over and over again. The Texans took one from the Redskins, they went in and took it, just finally and furiously decided it was theirs; Gary Kubiak tripped up mentor Mike Shanahan with Mike's own little sneaky field-goal timeout trick. Touche, the pupil delivers a lesson unto the teacher. But the Texans looked like a real team, with a real quarterback. They unleashed something; no, I'd say they metamorphosed into something, and it will be interesting to see what kind of havoc it wreaks. Barring injuries, I think the Texans are going to tear some teams up.
And hey, lo and behold, Michael Vick has been given the reins in Philadelphia. Huh. Imagine that.
What else? The Cowboys are 0-2, the Bears are 2-0. Y'know, people have a weird beef with Jay Cutler. I suppose maybe I get it, but at the same time I don't get it, and either way I think it's dumb. Do you like football? Do you like watching someone perform at the quarterback position, someone who can (and does) complete any kind of throw you can imagine? He was born to play quarterback; just sit back, watch and enjoy it. Barring major injuries, 'cause I think they're a bit old and not that deep; barring that, I'm calling the Bears a playoff team. Seriously; he's an artist, and I think he's finally got the tools he needs.
Finally, El Broncos. They won, they looked sharp. And they looked smart: Demariyus Thomas was unveiled, and geez...one game, it's only one game, but man, he looks like he's going to be really, really good. He was their first-round pick, taken before Dez Bryant, and it looks like the Broncos did some real homework and scored. And I realized that the defense looks interesting; I don't want to get too optimistic, I think they're still finding themselves, overall, as a unit; but they looked, well, potentially interesting.
And, more seriously, they lost somebody. Kenny Mckinley, a little-used, little-known wideout and special teams player. Suicide, shot himself in the bedroom of his own home. Sounds like it was a genuine shock; no one seems to have had any inclination, at all really, of where his state of mind was. It's sad, and it's a mystery. It's become a part of the Broncos season now. Not to be melodramatic about it, but Death has become, quite suddenly, a major thread in their 2010-11 tapestry.
But, 'tis my bedtime. Miss Meowski, purring here in my lap, has caused my leg to fall asleep. All right. The Sandman and Week 3 beckon, see you on the other side.
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