LOUD ACORNS FALL FROM LOUD TREES
by Justin Henry
"It gets done at all levels … you’ve got the right guy."
- Rex Ryan, on his qualifications as head coach, January 2009
"The Jets are coming … You take a swipe at one of ours, we’ll take a swipe at two of yours."
- Rex Ryan's message to the league, January 2009
"I just wanted to let you know how much we need you this week. You know, I've already admitted that, hey, the Patriots have a better head coach and they've got a better quarterback than us. But we're going to see who's got a better team."
- Rex Ryan, voicemail to Jets season ticket holders before week two match-up with the New England Patriots, September 2009
He looks like comedian Ron White after a six month eating binge. His hair and his pock-marked face indicate a man who looks far older than his forty-six years of life. The confidence and determination in the expressions listed above are said without a scream or a yell, but rather a reserved swagger. He's the boisterous, yet soft spoken, gambler at the table who knows his hand is better than yours, even before the cards are dealt. Since his debut with the Baltimore Ravens in 1999, as the lieutenant of Brian Billick, he's built a defense that could withstand most foreign terror strikes. It was his defensive line that lanced the Super Bowl trophy for Baltimore in 2001. When the Ravens coaching staff was purged following the 2007 season, new coach Jon Harbaugh pulled him from the gas chamber, retaining his services as assistant head coach. One year later, as the new coach of the Jets, he's been an enigma, taking the perceived softer New York team (compared to the blue collar Giants) and instilling an angry demeanor in the defense, something he's no stranger to.
What stands out the most about Rex Ryan is that swagger. In an era that has recent head coaches who resemble bumbling, inept, Chris Farley-like klutzes (Eric Mangini, Tom Cable) and soft, whiny pushovers (Jim Zorn, Wade Phillips), Ryan personifies as General Patton without the gruffness. He doesn’t alienate his players. Actually, he includes them. They’re a cleated cult, believing the grandmaster’s gospel that they’re going to steamroll over an excellent Patriots team (and they did). He includes the fans, telling them that they’re just as much a part of their game plan as the fifty-three man roster is. He doesn’t get rattled. He fears no opposing offense. He sets the tone, while everyone who wants to believe….believes.
Why does all of this seem so familiar?
“Coaches didn't like it because it made them look bad. We hit a lot of quarterbacks, and that was one of the things coaches were a little tender about.”
-Buddy Ryan, 2005
"Trade him for a six pack; it doesn't even have to be cold."
-Buddy Ryan, Eagles coach on running back Earnest Jackson, 1986
"The last touchdown was very satisfying. I had it planned all along….I just played the hand that was dealt me.”
-Buddy Ryan, on scoring an unnecessary touchdown to run up the score on Dallas, 1987
From 1968 to 1995, James “Buddy” Ryan made offensive coordinators and opposing starting elevens regret their choice in career. As a master sergeant in the Korean War, perhaps Buddy never fully transitioned to civilian life. Opposing teams were the enemy. They must be broken. This was the Buddy Ryan that helped the Jets defense pull off the upset of a lifetime over the Colts in Super Bowl III (yes, the Guarantee Game). This Buddy Ryan also assembled that Chicago Bears defense that ‘Super Bowl Shuffled” their way into America’s hearts, dancing and singing as a background to the quarterback-splattering onslaught they provided. As the head coach of the Eagles, he allegedly put a bounty on Cowboys quarterback Troy Aikman and kicker Luis Zendejas. A similar incident occurred a year later in 1990, when the infamous “Body Bag” game took place, where the Eagles injured eight Redskins, including both quarterbacks. In 1993, as defensive coordinator for the Houston Oilers, he punched out offensive coordinator Kevin Gilbride. On the sideline. During an actual game.
The same matter-of-fact aggressiveness. The same give-em-Hell spirit. The kind of defensive dominance that landed Super Bowl rings as an orchestrator of athletic violence.
Yep. He’s Rex’s dad.
With Buddy out of the NFL for the last fourteen years, happily breeding horses in Kentucky, the game began to lose its ego-driven edge. Coaches like Mike Ditka, Bill Parcells, Jim Mora, Jimmy Johnson, and Barry Switzer all joined Ryan in fading into retirement. The modern NFL is very concerned for its image. With a commissioner like Roger Goodell, one with interest in law enforcement and global marketing, there’s little room for an outlaw to stake his legacy. Players caught failing drug tests are given considerable punishment. Those who break the law may not see the field for a long time. With this image-makeover comes the more diplomatic head coach. Humanized and told to watch their words, the likes of Tony Dungy, Mike Holmgren, Bill Cowher, Andy Reid, Jeff Fisher, and others are being notably contrite and courteous when speaking to the media. The Buddy Ryans of the world have died with an earlier era.
Or have they?
Rex got his feet wet in the NFL under his dad’s watchful eye. Buddy ended his NFL career with the Arizona Cardinals, coaching them in 1994 and 1995, while Rex served the defensive line and linebacking corps. There’s little doubt that he developed his defensive instincts from papa. As far as the cacophonous way with words that he possesses, it’s likely that that’s genetic as well, if not a learned trait.
Maybe Rex Ryan doesn’t know how to keep his yapper shut. And you know what? I hope he doesn’t. The drama that he adds to the game by being this noisy motivator for his team, and doing so publicly, makes the games that the Jets play more fun to watch. Rex has become the talk of the league, mostly from people who seem surprised that a coach would spew so much fire in front of the cameras. Why would he do this? Isn’t he afraid of looking bad if/when he loses a big game? What then?
For Rex to look at it that way, he’s lost the game. If he tells the media about how badly they’re going to win, his players will want to win. If he says he has the utmost confidence in the guys he fields on Sunday, they’re not going to doubt themselves. Too many coaches now are coddling and afraid to yell. They resemble gentle fathers who say “That’s ok!” when a mistake is made. All that does is give a buffer space for the next mistake. Some teams keep the players in when they insult the club in public or consistently play poorly. Rex Ryan benched a player for tweeting about not getting enough playing time. I’ll bet David Clowney learns from that.
What can this outspoken characteristic do for you? For Buddy Ryan, who built the world champion Jets linebackers of 1969, Minnesota’s ‘Purple People Eaters”, the dominant Bears of the early 80’s, and Philadelphia’s “Gang Green” of the late 80’s, it built him a legacy predicated on success and self-assuredness.
Rex Ryan has self-assuredness. Now comes the success.
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/mindofjrhsports and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
College: CALL THE FAITH HEALER! TEBOW'S DOWN!
CALL THE FAITH HEALER! TEBOW’S DOWN!
by Justin Henry
ESPN, Saturday, September 26, 2009
Anchor: “We have breaking news to report out of Lexington, Kentucky this evening. Tim Tebow, quarterback for the Florida Gators, and the possible second coming of our Lord, has been taken to a nearby medical facility after sustaining a concussion. Again, Tim Tebow, Gators quarterback, and a better man than all of us, has just been taken to a hospital in Lexington, Kentucky after sustaining a concussion in tonight’s game at Commonwealth Stadium. We go live to our stereotypical airhead reporter, who is live at Commonwealth Stadium with the latest. What’s the situation?”
Reporter: “Well, it’s a very somber scene here, as you can imagine. Despite it being after sundown, it appears just a bit darker here in Lexington. A candlelight vigil is taking place here in the parking lot, as thousands of Florida fans are gathered in collective prayer for Tim Tebow, possible son of God.”
Anchor: “I understand we have the footage, is that correct?”
(Video airs of the ambulance with Tim Tebow inside, leaving for the hospital)
Anchor: “Do you have a video of the actual injury?”
Reporter: “We do, but who wants to see that? That’s too upsetting to watch. No one wants to see Tim Tebow, savior of humanity, getting his skull cracked.”
Anchor: “I concur. I’ve seen the video of President Kennedy’s assassination. I watched on September 11 a scant eight years ago when the second plane slammed into the World Trade Center. This sounds, at the very least, just a little bit worse. Hang on, we have our stereotypical Southern football analyst on the line. Sir, what can you tell us about what you saw here this evening?”
Analyst: “Bear with me, please….I….I don’t know…..if I can…..if I—“
Anchor: “I know this is very traumatic, and if you can’t—“
Analyst: “Tim Tebow is a truly wonderful human being! I’ve watched every one of his games since he came to Gainesville and I tell you, I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone more noble.”
Anchor: “I understand your sorrow—“
Analyst: “One time in my playing days, I took a nasty hit and was unconscious for twenty minutes. During my infirmed state, I tell you, I actually talked to God! He was a wonderful man, so benevolent and stately and amazing, and he showed me his Kingdom of Heaven. And let me tell you something, compared to Tim Tebow and his greatness, it was like a hobo showing me his tin can collection!”
Anchor: “I concur. What happened in the actual injury to Tim Tebow, healer of sick and homely children?”
Analyst: “That heathen Taylor Wyndham of Kentucky sacked Tim Tebow, and spiked his head into the knee of Tim Tebow’s lineman, Marcus Gilbert. Gilbert, first of all, should have done a better job of blocking for Tim Tebow, greatest person that has ever lived. Secondly, I fully expect for Gilbert to have his scholarship revoked upon his return to Gainesville. One day, maybe Tim Tebow will forgive him, but the rest of us common folk aren’t as nice and forgiving!”
Anchor: “Which brings us to our poll question on ESPN.com, which is “Who is to blame for Tim Tebow’s injury?”. The choices are Marcus Gilbert, Taylor Wyndham, poor playing surface, and breakdown in divine intervention. We now go back to our reporter on the scene, who is with a drunken Florida fan. What’s the scoop?”
Reporter: “Sir, what can you tell us about what happened tonight involving Tim Tebow, Christ reborn?”
Fan: “We’re not leaving yet! Lexington, your city will burn! We got gasoline, we got matches, and we’re angry! Tim Tebow was on a holy mission to protect the world…..through throwing a football….and we’re not going to let you punks get away with this!”
Reporter: “Sir, don’t you feel this is a bit extreme?”
Fan: “Extreme?!? Tim Tebow’s in the hospital!”
(Pause)
Reporter: “Back to you in the studios. GET ME A GAS CAN!!! I HAVE A LIGHTER!!”
(Aerial footage is shown of Tim Tebow’s ambulance leaving the stadium)
Anchor: “If you’re just joining us, folks, Florida quarterback Tim Tebow, our holy spirit, has been injured. He sustained a concussion in tonight’s game against the University of Kentucky and has been rushed to the Chandler Medical Center. We’re joined in studio by our NFL expert. Given the fact that he has a concussion, possibly severe brain damage, and that the NFL is more physically demanding than NCAA football….what does this do for his draft day status?”
Expert: “Well, I’m sure he’ll be in attendance so that the ESPN cameras will be on him approximately 800 times during the first hour, but as far as his draft projection goes, it’s up in the air. He still just might be the first overall pick. It’s believed that to have a man like Tim Tebow, who makes all of our lives worth living, on your team will make things brighter and will likely lead the club to as many Super Bowls as they want.”
Anchor: “And if he’s not taken first?”
Expert: “Then we go to ‘code blue’: ESPN will ignore whoever gets drafted first and spend the entire pre-season gushing over the pretty white guy. The debacle with JaMarcus Russell and Brady Quinn comes to mind.”
Anchor: “Debacle?”
Expert: “I mean ‘understandable situation’.”
Anchor: “Preliminary results are in for our poll, and it’s a dead heat between Marcus Gilbert and Taylor Wyndham for the near fatality of Tim Tebow, The Chosen One, this evening. We’re also getting e-mails, asking us to tone down the excessive coverage of this story, but what do these people know? They must be self-loathing atheists who derive pleasure from the sinful aspects of this mortal coil that we call ‘life’. Back to Lexington, where our reporter is standing by. What’s the latest?”
(Footage is shown of the reporter, several Florida fans, and local clergy firing flame throwers at Commonwealth Stadium while cackling maniacally.)
Anchor: “We’re going to take a commercial break, but when we come back: continued coverage of the injury to Tim Tebow, Modern Messiah.”
(Hubble telescope footage of Tim Tebow being rushed to the hospital is shown)
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/mindofjrhsports and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
by Justin Henry
ESPN, Saturday, September 26, 2009
Anchor: “We have breaking news to report out of Lexington, Kentucky this evening. Tim Tebow, quarterback for the Florida Gators, and the possible second coming of our Lord, has been taken to a nearby medical facility after sustaining a concussion. Again, Tim Tebow, Gators quarterback, and a better man than all of us, has just been taken to a hospital in Lexington, Kentucky after sustaining a concussion in tonight’s game at Commonwealth Stadium. We go live to our stereotypical airhead reporter, who is live at Commonwealth Stadium with the latest. What’s the situation?”
Reporter: “Well, it’s a very somber scene here, as you can imagine. Despite it being after sundown, it appears just a bit darker here in Lexington. A candlelight vigil is taking place here in the parking lot, as thousands of Florida fans are gathered in collective prayer for Tim Tebow, possible son of God.”
Anchor: “I understand we have the footage, is that correct?”
(Video airs of the ambulance with Tim Tebow inside, leaving for the hospital)
Anchor: “Do you have a video of the actual injury?”
Reporter: “We do, but who wants to see that? That’s too upsetting to watch. No one wants to see Tim Tebow, savior of humanity, getting his skull cracked.”
Anchor: “I concur. I’ve seen the video of President Kennedy’s assassination. I watched on September 11 a scant eight years ago when the second plane slammed into the World Trade Center. This sounds, at the very least, just a little bit worse. Hang on, we have our stereotypical Southern football analyst on the line. Sir, what can you tell us about what you saw here this evening?”
Analyst: “Bear with me, please….I….I don’t know…..if I can…..if I—“
Anchor: “I know this is very traumatic, and if you can’t—“
Analyst: “Tim Tebow is a truly wonderful human being! I’ve watched every one of his games since he came to Gainesville and I tell you, I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone more noble.”
Anchor: “I understand your sorrow—“
Analyst: “One time in my playing days, I took a nasty hit and was unconscious for twenty minutes. During my infirmed state, I tell you, I actually talked to God! He was a wonderful man, so benevolent and stately and amazing, and he showed me his Kingdom of Heaven. And let me tell you something, compared to Tim Tebow and his greatness, it was like a hobo showing me his tin can collection!”
Anchor: “I concur. What happened in the actual injury to Tim Tebow, healer of sick and homely children?”
Analyst: “That heathen Taylor Wyndham of Kentucky sacked Tim Tebow, and spiked his head into the knee of Tim Tebow’s lineman, Marcus Gilbert. Gilbert, first of all, should have done a better job of blocking for Tim Tebow, greatest person that has ever lived. Secondly, I fully expect for Gilbert to have his scholarship revoked upon his return to Gainesville. One day, maybe Tim Tebow will forgive him, but the rest of us common folk aren’t as nice and forgiving!”
Anchor: “Which brings us to our poll question on ESPN.com, which is “Who is to blame for Tim Tebow’s injury?”. The choices are Marcus Gilbert, Taylor Wyndham, poor playing surface, and breakdown in divine intervention. We now go back to our reporter on the scene, who is with a drunken Florida fan. What’s the scoop?”
Reporter: “Sir, what can you tell us about what happened tonight involving Tim Tebow, Christ reborn?”
Fan: “We’re not leaving yet! Lexington, your city will burn! We got gasoline, we got matches, and we’re angry! Tim Tebow was on a holy mission to protect the world…..through throwing a football….and we’re not going to let you punks get away with this!”
Reporter: “Sir, don’t you feel this is a bit extreme?”
Fan: “Extreme?!? Tim Tebow’s in the hospital!”
(Pause)
Reporter: “Back to you in the studios. GET ME A GAS CAN!!! I HAVE A LIGHTER!!”
(Aerial footage is shown of Tim Tebow’s ambulance leaving the stadium)
Anchor: “If you’re just joining us, folks, Florida quarterback Tim Tebow, our holy spirit, has been injured. He sustained a concussion in tonight’s game against the University of Kentucky and has been rushed to the Chandler Medical Center. We’re joined in studio by our NFL expert. Given the fact that he has a concussion, possibly severe brain damage, and that the NFL is more physically demanding than NCAA football….what does this do for his draft day status?”
Expert: “Well, I’m sure he’ll be in attendance so that the ESPN cameras will be on him approximately 800 times during the first hour, but as far as his draft projection goes, it’s up in the air. He still just might be the first overall pick. It’s believed that to have a man like Tim Tebow, who makes all of our lives worth living, on your team will make things brighter and will likely lead the club to as many Super Bowls as they want.”
Anchor: “And if he’s not taken first?”
Expert: “Then we go to ‘code blue’: ESPN will ignore whoever gets drafted first and spend the entire pre-season gushing over the pretty white guy. The debacle with JaMarcus Russell and Brady Quinn comes to mind.”
Anchor: “Debacle?”
Expert: “I mean ‘understandable situation’.”
Anchor: “Preliminary results are in for our poll, and it’s a dead heat between Marcus Gilbert and Taylor Wyndham for the near fatality of Tim Tebow, The Chosen One, this evening. We’re also getting e-mails, asking us to tone down the excessive coverage of this story, but what do these people know? They must be self-loathing atheists who derive pleasure from the sinful aspects of this mortal coil that we call ‘life’. Back to Lexington, where our reporter is standing by. What’s the latest?”
(Footage is shown of the reporter, several Florida fans, and local clergy firing flame throwers at Commonwealth Stadium while cackling maniacally.)
Anchor: “We’re going to take a commercial break, but when we come back: continued coverage of the injury to Tim Tebow, Modern Messiah.”
(Hubble telescope footage of Tim Tebow being rushed to the hospital is shown)
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/mindofjrhsports and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
Football: RANDOM NFL THOUGHTS
RANDOM NFL THOUGHTS
by Justin Henry
Ending September with a series of little quibbles and acerbics.
*If every NFL head coach that I believe is going to be fired at or by the end of the season ends up being fired, a third of the league will be gone (Mangini, Zorn, Del Rio, Morris, Haley, Jauron, Cable, Fox, Phillips, possibly Kubiak, and a retirement from Fisher).
*Do you think if Browns management started fining Eric Mangini for every loss he incurs, he'd finally right the ship? Or is he self-loathing enough to the point where he'd enjoy it?
*Speaking of Mangini, I truly believe that if Patton Oswalt had to play a creepy killer or pervert on Law and Order: SVU, the make-up people would give him a Mangini-esque appearance.
*The Lions have one more win than last year. Tennessee needs to go 13 for 13 to match their own 2008 record. What is this?
*The Redskins fans are aghast and appalled that they were beaten by a team that had not won since just before Christmas 2007. But if you think about it, they lost to a team with a) a better head coach, b) a quarterback with greater upside, and c) a team that knows how to supplement a talented wide receiver. In other words, the Redskins were beaten by the better team. Sorry, guys.
* The game that Gus Johnson performs commentary for has to be the one with the greatest amount of offensive fantasy implications. If it looks like it's going to be a shoot out, get Gus to the stadium, stat! Oh, and bring cough drops.
*When you're dipping a Tostito chip into a bowl of sour cream, expecting greatness and immense flavor, and you pull it out with just a thin coating of gunk on the sides of the chip, is that the equivalent of being a Jets fan on draft day? Except this year, the chip came out with enough cream to paint a wall mural with. Disregard that analogy, please.
*When your performance at quarterback is so poor on Sunday, that you're demoted to the number three spot on the depth chart come Monday, your confidence isn't just shattered. It's been ground into dust, poured into a Ziplock bag, and sold to Timmy Smith in exchange for his Super Bowl ring. Speaking of rings, at least Byron Leftwich can wear his to Buccaneers team functions and still feel good about himself.
* The name Josh Johnson just sounds like an alias. I don't know why.
* Forget about New Orleans. It's Houston that should get consideration for the "Greatest Show on Turf" moniker! It's the only team I've seen where you could start their entire offense on your fantasy squad, score 145 points, and the only way you could lose was if your opponent started the opposing team's offense. Defense? What's that?
* The easiest way to make Maurice Jones-Drew highlight packages is to just pore through his games against the Texans. You don't even have to do that much extensive research.
* New England's dead? Really? Because I saw them just frustrate the fantasy owners of Michael Turner and Roddy White with a paint-by-numbers drubbing of Atlanta. Wasn't like there was anything fancy to it, either. The Patriots just simply overmatched them on time of possession, total yards and far less penalty yards. In other words, declaring Belichick to be dead apparently only makes him mad.
* Remember when Tampa Bay was on the cusp of the post-season last year? So does Jon Gruden. Bucs fans can watch him on Monday Night Football every time they need a nostalgia fix to cure the pain.
* If you date Tara Reid and then spend a few years getting the proper penicillin shots, you can one day be a decent quarterback again. It worked for Kyle Boller and he's feeling great! See you in a few more years, more-effective Matt Leinart!
*2020 will be the year that Aaron Rodgers retires, only to come back, throw the Packers under the bus, sign with someone else (Al Davis will hire him, and he’ll still be alive), and throw away all of his goodwill. No wait, he has class and dignity. What am I saying?
* Mark Sanchez just showed off a new dimension of himself: the ability to put a team away in the fourth quarter after playing tight all game long. Still waiting for his kryptonite to be revealed. On a side note, I dug the fans at Giants Stadium wearing Rey Mysterio masks to support Sanchez. Though I think deep down, he’d prefer they dress as La Parka. And who doesn’t love La Parka?
* The more that you keep Kerry Collins in the games when the team keeps losing, the closer you drive Vince Young to flying the coup, playing for a team that can make bad quarterbacks look decent (Denver, Dallas, Kansas City, et al), and realizing his potential. When you can’t get your job back from an aging drunk that’s never seen a Norelco razor in his life, you have the confidence level of….well, of Byron Leftwich.
* Phil Simms and Troy Aikman demonstrate the necessity for all college football players to try and get at least a bachelor’s in journalism. But you already knew that. You watch the games, right? Unless you have it on mute.
* Congratulations, Kevin Kolb, on an outstanding performance! As a reward, we monogrammed your headset with your initials. Have fun talking to Donovan from the sidelines for the rest of the season. Once again, congratulations!
* If Todd Haley was my dad, I think I’d be hiding under my bed every time he came home from work.
* I refuse to give Brett Favre credit for anything. That said, where was Greg Lewis when we needed that kind of awesomeness from him in Philadelphia? Way to blossom now. Jerk. Do I sound bitter?
* Terrell Owens did not have a single catch on Sunday. I guess now Jerry Rice will come out of the woodwork and complain, saying that a man of TO’s stature should be thrown to. Or not.
* Seattle’s uniforms make me want to go to Rita’s Water Ice and get something lime.
* Let’s all take some time and think about the previous thoughts I’ve posted here. While I’m doing that, Carson Palmer will continue his comeback bid, the young kids on the Bengals will continue to develop, and Cincinnati will contend for the division title well into December. You think I’m kidding? Just watch.
* The NFL Network has two new jobs: amend their “Top Ten Draft Busts” special to include JaMarcus Russell, and destroy any and all video footage of their analysts calling Josh McDaniels an idiot.
* For those of you wondering how LaDainian Tomlinson can just become a broken down shell of his former self, turn into an injury-report mainstay, lose his job to somebody the size of Robert Blake, and possibly vanish from the NFL altogether, here’s your homework assignment: go out and find Shaun Alexander.
* I think the Miami Dolphins, who were 1-15 in 2007, got a wee bit jealous when the Lions went 0-16 last year, and are now trying to tie their record. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
* Speaking of ‘returning to form’, welcome back Arizona!
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/mindofjrhsports and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
by Justin Henry
Ending September with a series of little quibbles and acerbics.
*If every NFL head coach that I believe is going to be fired at or by the end of the season ends up being fired, a third of the league will be gone (Mangini, Zorn, Del Rio, Morris, Haley, Jauron, Cable, Fox, Phillips, possibly Kubiak, and a retirement from Fisher).
*Do you think if Browns management started fining Eric Mangini for every loss he incurs, he'd finally right the ship? Or is he self-loathing enough to the point where he'd enjoy it?
*Speaking of Mangini, I truly believe that if Patton Oswalt had to play a creepy killer or pervert on Law and Order: SVU, the make-up people would give him a Mangini-esque appearance.
*The Lions have one more win than last year. Tennessee needs to go 13 for 13 to match their own 2008 record. What is this?
*The Redskins fans are aghast and appalled that they were beaten by a team that had not won since just before Christmas 2007. But if you think about it, they lost to a team with a) a better head coach, b) a quarterback with greater upside, and c) a team that knows how to supplement a talented wide receiver. In other words, the Redskins were beaten by the better team. Sorry, guys.
* The game that Gus Johnson performs commentary for has to be the one with the greatest amount of offensive fantasy implications. If it looks like it's going to be a shoot out, get Gus to the stadium, stat! Oh, and bring cough drops.
*When you're dipping a Tostito chip into a bowl of sour cream, expecting greatness and immense flavor, and you pull it out with just a thin coating of gunk on the sides of the chip, is that the equivalent of being a Jets fan on draft day? Except this year, the chip came out with enough cream to paint a wall mural with. Disregard that analogy, please.
*When your performance at quarterback is so poor on Sunday, that you're demoted to the number three spot on the depth chart come Monday, your confidence isn't just shattered. It's been ground into dust, poured into a Ziplock bag, and sold to Timmy Smith in exchange for his Super Bowl ring. Speaking of rings, at least Byron Leftwich can wear his to Buccaneers team functions and still feel good about himself.
* The name Josh Johnson just sounds like an alias. I don't know why.
* Forget about New Orleans. It's Houston that should get consideration for the "Greatest Show on Turf" moniker! It's the only team I've seen where you could start their entire offense on your fantasy squad, score 145 points, and the only way you could lose was if your opponent started the opposing team's offense. Defense? What's that?
* The easiest way to make Maurice Jones-Drew highlight packages is to just pore through his games against the Texans. You don't even have to do that much extensive research.
* New England's dead? Really? Because I saw them just frustrate the fantasy owners of Michael Turner and Roddy White with a paint-by-numbers drubbing of Atlanta. Wasn't like there was anything fancy to it, either. The Patriots just simply overmatched them on time of possession, total yards and far less penalty yards. In other words, declaring Belichick to be dead apparently only makes him mad.
* Remember when Tampa Bay was on the cusp of the post-season last year? So does Jon Gruden. Bucs fans can watch him on Monday Night Football every time they need a nostalgia fix to cure the pain.
* If you date Tara Reid and then spend a few years getting the proper penicillin shots, you can one day be a decent quarterback again. It worked for Kyle Boller and he's feeling great! See you in a few more years, more-effective Matt Leinart!
*2020 will be the year that Aaron Rodgers retires, only to come back, throw the Packers under the bus, sign with someone else (Al Davis will hire him, and he’ll still be alive), and throw away all of his goodwill. No wait, he has class and dignity. What am I saying?
* Mark Sanchez just showed off a new dimension of himself: the ability to put a team away in the fourth quarter after playing tight all game long. Still waiting for his kryptonite to be revealed. On a side note, I dug the fans at Giants Stadium wearing Rey Mysterio masks to support Sanchez. Though I think deep down, he’d prefer they dress as La Parka. And who doesn’t love La Parka?
* The more that you keep Kerry Collins in the games when the team keeps losing, the closer you drive Vince Young to flying the coup, playing for a team that can make bad quarterbacks look decent (Denver, Dallas, Kansas City, et al), and realizing his potential. When you can’t get your job back from an aging drunk that’s never seen a Norelco razor in his life, you have the confidence level of….well, of Byron Leftwich.
* Phil Simms and Troy Aikman demonstrate the necessity for all college football players to try and get at least a bachelor’s in journalism. But you already knew that. You watch the games, right? Unless you have it on mute.
* Congratulations, Kevin Kolb, on an outstanding performance! As a reward, we monogrammed your headset with your initials. Have fun talking to Donovan from the sidelines for the rest of the season. Once again, congratulations!
* If Todd Haley was my dad, I think I’d be hiding under my bed every time he came home from work.
* I refuse to give Brett Favre credit for anything. That said, where was Greg Lewis when we needed that kind of awesomeness from him in Philadelphia? Way to blossom now. Jerk. Do I sound bitter?
* Terrell Owens did not have a single catch on Sunday. I guess now Jerry Rice will come out of the woodwork and complain, saying that a man of TO’s stature should be thrown to. Or not.
* Seattle’s uniforms make me want to go to Rita’s Water Ice and get something lime.
* Let’s all take some time and think about the previous thoughts I’ve posted here. While I’m doing that, Carson Palmer will continue his comeback bid, the young kids on the Bengals will continue to develop, and Cincinnati will contend for the division title well into December. You think I’m kidding? Just watch.
* The NFL Network has two new jobs: amend their “Top Ten Draft Busts” special to include JaMarcus Russell, and destroy any and all video footage of their analysts calling Josh McDaniels an idiot.
* For those of you wondering how LaDainian Tomlinson can just become a broken down shell of his former self, turn into an injury-report mainstay, lose his job to somebody the size of Robert Blake, and possibly vanish from the NFL altogether, here’s your homework assignment: go out and find Shaun Alexander.
* I think the Miami Dolphins, who were 1-15 in 2007, got a wee bit jealous when the Lions went 0-16 last year, and are now trying to tie their record. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.
* Speaking of ‘returning to form’, welcome back Arizona!
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/mindofjrhsports and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Football: WEEK 3 2009 PICKS
WEEK 3 2009 NFL PICKS
by Justin Henry
You know, you hear it every year. Somebody will invariably say it when the discussion of recent NFL action comes up. Bloggers, studio analysts, commentators, fans, and anyone else you can think of will utter the following statement, or a variation, around this time each year.
“This is the weirdest NFL season yet.”
Why would it not be? Has there ever been a NORMAL NFL season? Has anyone ever run the table and predicted every NFL game correctly? No. Never. Except maybe Joe Buck, since he knows everything there is to know and the action on the field bores him. See, that’s the reason he’s so bored. When you always know what to expect and you’re able to acquire complete knowledge of everything, you reserve the right to be less than enthused during games. Joe Buck is just that smart.
And what’s there to be surprised about? Tom Brady in a slump, Josh McDaniels 2-0, Tennessee winless, Eli Manning actually having receivers, The Immaculate Deflection, John Fox’s continued employment, Mark Sanchez as Cool Hand Luke, Cincinnati’s defense as a force….surprises? Really? Joe Buck isn’t surprised. And neither should you be!
So onto this week’s picks. This week’s theme: Metallica. There’s nothing like the introspective and morose lyrics of James Hetfield to put another “weird” season in its proper place.
So here we go.
Kansas City at Philadelphia
“Misery / you insist that the weight of the world should be on your shoulders” – My Friend of Misery, 1991
The more Todd Haley screams at his players without success, the sooner his ineffectiveness is exposed. You can be ineffective WITHOUT yelling. Just look across the sidelines at Big Red.
MY PICK: Philadelphia 30, Kansas City 10
Tennessee at New York Jets
“Crushing all deceivers, mashing non-believers, never ending potency” – Battery, 1986
Rex Ryan is the spawn of Orson Welles and Darth Vader. If Chris Johnson can’t solve the defense, Tennessee continues their anti-2008 season.
MY PICK: New York 16, Tennessee 13
Green Bay at St Louis
“Holding me back because I’m striving to be / Better than you!”- Better than You, 1997
Barring that weird loss last week to Cincinnati, every time I see Aaron Rodgers play, I’m more grateful that Mike McCarthy essentially told Brett Favre “ride the pine or walk out the door”. Bounce back week for a future Super Bowl champion in the real “A-Rod”.
MY PICK: Green Bay 27, St Louis 7
San Francisco at Minnesota
“They're off to find the hero of the day / But what if they should fall by someone's wicked way” – Hero of the Day, 1996
I like Adrian Peterson. I have a soft spot for Brad Childress. I admire the defensive line. But I just can’t root for a team with The Spineless Moth at quarterback. The name indicates someone who’s attracted to light and nothing more. If I’m Mike Singletary, I play Favre-Ball: Blitz six, drop back five. When the ‘team player’ throws the ball up, pick it off. Never fails.
MY PICK: San Francisco 20, Minnesota 17
Cleveland at Baltimore
“There is an evil feeling in our brains / But it is nothing new; you know it drives us insane” – Seek and Destroy, 1983
Ray Lewis? Check. Pounding running game? Check. Typical Cleveland ineptitude? Check. Good to go.
MY PICK: Baltimore 34, Cleveland 7
New York Giants at Tampa Bay
“Moving back instead of forward seems to me absurd” – Eye of the Beholder, 1988
Tampa Bay fires a Super Bowl winning coach (six years expired, granted) who just missed the post-season, only to see the following happen: a quarterback controversy where none of the three are any good, a trade for a talented yet spoiled tight end, a goodbye to the best linebacker in franchise history, and the firing of the offensive coordinator before the season even kicked off. On the bright side, Derrick Ward gets to see some old friends again!
MY PICK: New York 31, Tampa Bay 14
Jacksonville at Houston
“This shortest straw has been pulled for you” – The Shortest Straw, 1988
Maurice Jones-Drew must wonder what he’s done to deserve this lot in life. He has NOTHING around him. His defense won’t stop Kubiak’s high-powered offense. He needs a career day to get the Jags into the win column. And that’s asking a lot.
MY PICK: Houston 27, Jacksonville 14
Atlanta at New England
“Wait for the sign / To flick the switch of death / It's the beginning of the end” – Ride the Lightning, 1984
Resident Boston-apologist Bill Simmons feels that his Patriots are on a decline. I wouldn’t be so pessimistic, but the defense needs a lot of mending and work. Brady’s bound to show his flashes again sooner or later, and I think they eke one out over the Falcons flying high.
MY PICK: New England 14, Atlanta 10
Washington at Detroit
“I don't know how to live through this hell / Woken up, I'm still locked in this shell” – Trapped Under Ice, 1984
Bad news for Detroit: they’re still winless. Good news: The Redskins can’t score more than 28 points under Jim Zorn. If Detroit can play mistake-free football (HA!), they can edge out the shaky ‘skins (not so HA!).
MY PICK: Detroit 20, Washington 14
Chicago at Seattle
“You lie so much you believe yourself / judge not lest ye be judged yourself” – Holier than Thou, 1991
Jay Cutler has the likeability of Dick Cheney putting a kitten through a meat grinder. He’s talented, for sure, but you wish for more games like week one where he falls on his face and shifts blame to his teammates.I just don’t look for it this week with Seneca Wallace leading the Javas.
MY PICK: Chicago 24, Seattle 10
New Orleans at Buffalo
“Spineless from the start, sucked into the part /circus comes to town, you play the lead clown” – Leper Messiah, 1986
I don’t believe Terrell Owens is going to be the thing that saves Dick Jauron’s job. In fact, should they miss the playoffs, that’s going to be the nail in the coffin. Playing against a hot Drew Brees doesn’t make it any easier for the American Argonauts either.
MY PICK: New Orleans 34, Buffalo 20
Miami at San Diego
“Choke, asphyxia, Snuff reality / Scorch, kill the light, Incinerate celebrity” – The End of the Line, 2008
What dies out completely first: LT’s career or Miami’s “spontaneous” wildcat offense? Both of them are near their expiration dates.
MY PICK: San Diego 21, Miami 14
Pittsburgh at Cincinnati
“Just let me plug you into my world, can’t you help me be uncrazy?” – Unnamed Feeling, 2003
Chad 85 got a chuckle with his Lambeau Leap last Sunday, and the Bengals are looking shockingly strong. But Roethlisberger’s coming off a loss to Chicago, and is undefeated in the state of Ohio. If Chad stays focused and Cedric Benson avoids the clink, Cincinnati can be a force this season. But not this week.
MY PICK: Pittsburgh 21, Cincinnati 13
Denver at Oakland
“Luck. Runs. Out.” – All Nightmare Long, 2008
It’s Denver. They have to lose sometime. As long as JaMarcus Russell doesn’t hand them the game.
MY PICK: Oakland 17, Denver 12
Indianapolis at Arizona
“I won’t go away, with a bullet in my back / Right here I’ll stay, with a bullet in my back” – Shoot me Again, 2003
Peyton Manning still wins games. At 33, nary a day off, he’s still the most cerebral and calculating quarterback in the game. In a shoot out, the smarter team usually wins with the more well-executed finish. In finishing situations, would you bet against Mr. DirecTV?
MY PICK: Indianapolis 24, Arizona 20
Carolina at Dallas
“No more nights in this eternal hell, Destination is simple, we move out.” – Killing Time, 1998
If John Fox and Wade Phillips are still employed four months from now, I’ll more surprised than when Fox renewed Til Death. Fox is allowing Delhomme to sign his pink slip, and Phillips is as good a leader as Romo is. We in Philly have dealt with “McNabb is overrated” stories for seven years. Get used to it in Big D, Tony.
MY PICK: Dallas 27, Carolina 17
by Justin Henry
You know, you hear it every year. Somebody will invariably say it when the discussion of recent NFL action comes up. Bloggers, studio analysts, commentators, fans, and anyone else you can think of will utter the following statement, or a variation, around this time each year.
“This is the weirdest NFL season yet.”
Why would it not be? Has there ever been a NORMAL NFL season? Has anyone ever run the table and predicted every NFL game correctly? No. Never. Except maybe Joe Buck, since he knows everything there is to know and the action on the field bores him. See, that’s the reason he’s so bored. When you always know what to expect and you’re able to acquire complete knowledge of everything, you reserve the right to be less than enthused during games. Joe Buck is just that smart.
And what’s there to be surprised about? Tom Brady in a slump, Josh McDaniels 2-0, Tennessee winless, Eli Manning actually having receivers, The Immaculate Deflection, John Fox’s continued employment, Mark Sanchez as Cool Hand Luke, Cincinnati’s defense as a force….surprises? Really? Joe Buck isn’t surprised. And neither should you be!
So onto this week’s picks. This week’s theme: Metallica. There’s nothing like the introspective and morose lyrics of James Hetfield to put another “weird” season in its proper place.
So here we go.
Kansas City at Philadelphia
“Misery / you insist that the weight of the world should be on your shoulders” – My Friend of Misery, 1991
The more Todd Haley screams at his players without success, the sooner his ineffectiveness is exposed. You can be ineffective WITHOUT yelling. Just look across the sidelines at Big Red.
MY PICK: Philadelphia 30, Kansas City 10
Tennessee at New York Jets
“Crushing all deceivers, mashing non-believers, never ending potency” – Battery, 1986
Rex Ryan is the spawn of Orson Welles and Darth Vader. If Chris Johnson can’t solve the defense, Tennessee continues their anti-2008 season.
MY PICK: New York 16, Tennessee 13
Green Bay at St Louis
“Holding me back because I’m striving to be / Better than you!”- Better than You, 1997
Barring that weird loss last week to Cincinnati, every time I see Aaron Rodgers play, I’m more grateful that Mike McCarthy essentially told Brett Favre “ride the pine or walk out the door”. Bounce back week for a future Super Bowl champion in the real “A-Rod”.
MY PICK: Green Bay 27, St Louis 7
San Francisco at Minnesota
“They're off to find the hero of the day / But what if they should fall by someone's wicked way” – Hero of the Day, 1996
I like Adrian Peterson. I have a soft spot for Brad Childress. I admire the defensive line. But I just can’t root for a team with The Spineless Moth at quarterback. The name indicates someone who’s attracted to light and nothing more. If I’m Mike Singletary, I play Favre-Ball: Blitz six, drop back five. When the ‘team player’ throws the ball up, pick it off. Never fails.
MY PICK: San Francisco 20, Minnesota 17
Cleveland at Baltimore
“There is an evil feeling in our brains / But it is nothing new; you know it drives us insane” – Seek and Destroy, 1983
Ray Lewis? Check. Pounding running game? Check. Typical Cleveland ineptitude? Check. Good to go.
MY PICK: Baltimore 34, Cleveland 7
New York Giants at Tampa Bay
“Moving back instead of forward seems to me absurd” – Eye of the Beholder, 1988
Tampa Bay fires a Super Bowl winning coach (six years expired, granted) who just missed the post-season, only to see the following happen: a quarterback controversy where none of the three are any good, a trade for a talented yet spoiled tight end, a goodbye to the best linebacker in franchise history, and the firing of the offensive coordinator before the season even kicked off. On the bright side, Derrick Ward gets to see some old friends again!
MY PICK: New York 31, Tampa Bay 14
Jacksonville at Houston
“This shortest straw has been pulled for you” – The Shortest Straw, 1988
Maurice Jones-Drew must wonder what he’s done to deserve this lot in life. He has NOTHING around him. His defense won’t stop Kubiak’s high-powered offense. He needs a career day to get the Jags into the win column. And that’s asking a lot.
MY PICK: Houston 27, Jacksonville 14
Atlanta at New England
“Wait for the sign / To flick the switch of death / It's the beginning of the end” – Ride the Lightning, 1984
Resident Boston-apologist Bill Simmons feels that his Patriots are on a decline. I wouldn’t be so pessimistic, but the defense needs a lot of mending and work. Brady’s bound to show his flashes again sooner or later, and I think they eke one out over the Falcons flying high.
MY PICK: New England 14, Atlanta 10
Washington at Detroit
“I don't know how to live through this hell / Woken up, I'm still locked in this shell” – Trapped Under Ice, 1984
Bad news for Detroit: they’re still winless. Good news: The Redskins can’t score more than 28 points under Jim Zorn. If Detroit can play mistake-free football (HA!), they can edge out the shaky ‘skins (not so HA!).
MY PICK: Detroit 20, Washington 14
Chicago at Seattle
“You lie so much you believe yourself / judge not lest ye be judged yourself” – Holier than Thou, 1991
Jay Cutler has the likeability of Dick Cheney putting a kitten through a meat grinder. He’s talented, for sure, but you wish for more games like week one where he falls on his face and shifts blame to his teammates.I just don’t look for it this week with Seneca Wallace leading the Javas.
MY PICK: Chicago 24, Seattle 10
New Orleans at Buffalo
“Spineless from the start, sucked into the part /circus comes to town, you play the lead clown” – Leper Messiah, 1986
I don’t believe Terrell Owens is going to be the thing that saves Dick Jauron’s job. In fact, should they miss the playoffs, that’s going to be the nail in the coffin. Playing against a hot Drew Brees doesn’t make it any easier for the American Argonauts either.
MY PICK: New Orleans 34, Buffalo 20
Miami at San Diego
“Choke, asphyxia, Snuff reality / Scorch, kill the light, Incinerate celebrity” – The End of the Line, 2008
What dies out completely first: LT’s career or Miami’s “spontaneous” wildcat offense? Both of them are near their expiration dates.
MY PICK: San Diego 21, Miami 14
Pittsburgh at Cincinnati
“Just let me plug you into my world, can’t you help me be uncrazy?” – Unnamed Feeling, 2003
Chad 85 got a chuckle with his Lambeau Leap last Sunday, and the Bengals are looking shockingly strong. But Roethlisberger’s coming off a loss to Chicago, and is undefeated in the state of Ohio. If Chad stays focused and Cedric Benson avoids the clink, Cincinnati can be a force this season. But not this week.
MY PICK: Pittsburgh 21, Cincinnati 13
Denver at Oakland
“Luck. Runs. Out.” – All Nightmare Long, 2008
It’s Denver. They have to lose sometime. As long as JaMarcus Russell doesn’t hand them the game.
MY PICK: Oakland 17, Denver 12
Indianapolis at Arizona
“I won’t go away, with a bullet in my back / Right here I’ll stay, with a bullet in my back” – Shoot me Again, 2003
Peyton Manning still wins games. At 33, nary a day off, he’s still the most cerebral and calculating quarterback in the game. In a shoot out, the smarter team usually wins with the more well-executed finish. In finishing situations, would you bet against Mr. DirecTV?
MY PICK: Indianapolis 24, Arizona 20
Carolina at Dallas
“No more nights in this eternal hell, Destination is simple, we move out.” – Killing Time, 1998
If John Fox and Wade Phillips are still employed four months from now, I’ll more surprised than when Fox renewed Til Death. Fox is allowing Delhomme to sign his pink slip, and Phillips is as good a leader as Romo is. We in Philly have dealt with “McNabb is overrated” stories for seven years. Get used to it in Big D, Tony.
MY PICK: Dallas 27, Carolina 17
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Baseball: CHARLIE AND BRAD: AN AMERICAN LOVE STORY
CHARLE AND BRAD: AN AMERICAN LOVE STORY
by Justin Henry
I hope I’m not emasculating anyone here with an article that alludes to a “love story”, but if you’ve made it this far, then you may as well see it through to the end. Besides, it’s not your typical “love story”. You won’t find Ryan O’Neal and Ali McGraw in a bittersweet romance on this page, nor should you expect to. But what’s written here is love of a different sort. It is the type of love that is born out of loyalty, one that comes from a shared experience that can never be forgotten. Particularly, it’s the story of Phillies manager Charlie Manuel and his talented, but troubled, closer Brad Lidge. If you’re a Phillies fan, the basics of this tale are easy to recollect: a courtship that began after the 2007 season ended, yielded a World Series title in 2008, and has, in 2009, been the touchiest subject in regards to the defending champions.
To understand its touchiness, you have to understand what the 2008 season was all about. After tasting the playoffs the previous season, the Phillies made an immediate move to bolster their roster, trading for closer Brad Lidge of the Houston Astros. Lidge, while erratic during his final season with the team, was immediately given the keys to the car in the form of the closer’s role. Charlie Manuel has proven to be a patient, faith-based manager. He encourages his athletes to make their own plays, including his unwavering green light for Jimmy Rollins and Shane Victorino to steal bases. This liberal approach extends to his bullpen, trotting the pitchers out to the mound in crucial situations, even if they’ve been shaky in recent outings. In 2008, there was nothing shaky about Lidge. Sure, he allowed base runners at times, but when you go 48 for 48 in the saves column (including 7 in the playoffs), that’s a fine accomplishment. Allowing just 15 earned runs in 72 regular season games for a 1.95 ERA, he was the ultimate security blanket. If the Phillies led after eight innings, they were certainly going to lead after nine. With his strikeout of Eric Hinske in the World Series, Lidge capped off an incredible season, one that’s going to be extremely hard to top.
The biggest problem with achieving perfection is that it’s expected every time henceforth. Even the most die-hard Phillies fan would be asking for the moon and stars if they believed Lidge was going to duplicate 2008’s astonishing performance.
2009. We’re still astonished….but in a completely different way.
Eleven blown saves. A record of 0-8. His ERA is 7.48. The batting average of his opponents is a shade over .300. The numbers do not lie. As nice as the 31 saves are, the stat is equivalent to having to reach into your septic tank to pull out a $20 bill. A stint on the disabled list for a sprained knee was hoped to be the answer to these issues back in June, but, before long, he was back to his lackluster performance. Manuel has tried other players in closing relief, particularly Ryan Madson, to let Lidge try and work through a mental block. Hasn’t helped. Yet, the skipper is still content to bring him in late in the game to try and save the day, hoping that the Brad Lidge who chugs in from the bullpen gate is the same one whose name is on the receipt of the 2008 World Series trophy.
It’s almost inconceivable that Lidge could have such a fall from grace this fast. It brings to mind the story of the man who won the lottery, only to watch his loved ones and personal life go down the crapper at an alarming pace. It almost seems as if Lidge sold his soul to have one Hall-of-Fame worthy season, and now is paying his debt to the Devil from here on out. When a Phillies fan like myself watched him play in 2008, none of us questioned whether Lidge would falter, or not, under the pressure of closing out the game. Even in the final World Series game, with the score 4 to 3 against Tampa Bay and a man on second base with one out, the collective thought was still “He’ll git em”. He did. Our faith in “Lights Out” Lidge was rewarded every time he came in relief. Now in 2009, everyone groans when his name is called. How do you go from being the heroic cowboy who comes over the hill to save the town at the end of the movie, to being a disoriented invalid that you’re hoping doesn’t have a debilitating stroke just walking out to pitch? As I said, it’s almost inconceivable.
But, like a faithful lover, Charlie Manuel refuses to dump Brad Lidge. He just can’t. Other than one time where Lidge put men on base and Chuck replaced him with Madson on September 8. After all of Lidge’s foibles, Manuel seemed to finally have enough. But it didn’t take long for it to become clear that Lidge still had the closer’s job. For one night, Manuel made Lidge sleep on the sofa, but returned to marital bliss rather quickly. Granted, the loss that Lidge incurred on September 23 to Florida is his first loss in two and a half weeks, and he does have three saves in between those losses, but it’s too close to the post season for comfort. What’s scary is that the Phillies don’t even have their berth for the playoffs locked up yet. What’s worse is that if Lidge had converted those eleven blown saves, the Phillies would already be in.
It’s likely that the Phillies will get in, however. But then what? In an ideal world, the bats will come to life and the Phils will have ten-run leads going into the ninth, but that sense of idealism is best left for LSD enthusiasts. There’s going to be situations where a save is needed. Does Manuel go with Lidge, knowing that the pressure of the playoffs far exceeds that of a three game road series in the middle of June? If Lidge is simply feeling complacent, then perhaps come playoff time, he’ll buckle down and show us the fire that makes him one of the deadliest closers in recent history. But if there’s a mechanical issue or a mental block that’s preventing him from being able to pitch at his best, then Manuel cannot take that risk. Chan Ho Park, Ryan Madson, Jamie Moyer, Brett Myers, and whichever starting pitcher (thinking JA Happ) doesn’t make the postseason rotation are all decent-to-good choices to be the executioner for the ninth inning. But it seems Manuel just can’t let go of Lidge.
Maybe it’s because Charlie knows that Lidge has been through this before. In the 2005 post-season, Lidge gave up a towering (and I cannot stress that word enough) home run to Albert Pujols that still might not have landed. The Astros would win that series, but something changed in Lidge after that. The way Pujols defiantly glared at him after his swing, because everyone knew it was a home run. Pujols didn’t have to watch the ball, and Lidge didn’t even need to turn around. When you put together all of the intangibles in this incident, they go a long way in explaining just how 2006 and 2007 became such disappointments. But once he was traded to Philadelphia, the slate was wiped clean. He was Brad Lidge, the sure thing, once again. All of the memories of failure in Houston were now past him, buried in a storage locker somewhere. Manuel knows that players can break slumps at any time. It just takes encouragement, patience, and a pat on the back. After all, he’s seen Jimmy Rollins, Ryan Howard, and Pat Burrell all struggle at the plate at different times, only to come through when it mattered the most. Lidge can do it, thinks Charlie. He’s sure of it.
Manuel knows what it’s like to have someone lose faith in him, after all. When he managed the Cleveland Indians for two and a half seasons, he had a winning record. In 2000, they were 90-72, good for second in their division. A year later, they went 91-71, enough to capture the division title. His future seemed bright, but there’s a reason why his third year was just a “half”. After starting the 2002 campaign 39-47, Manuel was fired in mid season. It’s alleged that the termination came over a contract dispute, but the disappointing start likely played a role. The man had just made the post-season the year before, and was now looking for managerial openings on Monster.com. The fact that Manuel made a comeback in 2005 as the Phillies honcho, led them to two playoff runs, and netted them their first World Series win in twenty-eight years is proof that Cleveland may have made an error in judgment. If the Indians had let things be and kept ol’ Chuck around, they too could have tasted victory. But last year, Manuel made some people in that organization just a little ill when he won it all somewhere else. Vindication, certainly, tasted good for Charlie Manuel.
Manuel has seen what Lidge is capable of. We all have, right? That 2008 season isn’t going to leave our hearts anytime soon. Lidge, like Manuel was in 2002, has hit a slump. Charlie can either cut his losses, sit Lidge down, and go with someone else to finish off foes in the ninth, or he can keep telling Lidge “you’re my guy”. How would Charlie feel if, during this coming offseason, he dealt Lidge to another team and he suddenly renews his self-faith? If Lidge wins the World Series with his newest home, it would no doubt stick in Manuel’s craw for not keeping fidelity in his closer. We as fans would be crushed to see him do badly for us, and then do great for someone else. No doubt in my mind that it would crush Charlie Manuel the most.
With the regular season winding down, it remains to be seen what the conclusion will be. Will Lidge return to form? Will he fall apart in the key situation? Will Manuel stand by his man? Or will he go to somebody else? Manuel wants to be rewarded for his faith, and so, as of this moment, he’s keeping Lidge penciled in as the closer.
Let’s just hope that both faith, as well as love, haven’t rendered Charlie Manuel blind.
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
by Justin Henry
I hope I’m not emasculating anyone here with an article that alludes to a “love story”, but if you’ve made it this far, then you may as well see it through to the end. Besides, it’s not your typical “love story”. You won’t find Ryan O’Neal and Ali McGraw in a bittersweet romance on this page, nor should you expect to. But what’s written here is love of a different sort. It is the type of love that is born out of loyalty, one that comes from a shared experience that can never be forgotten. Particularly, it’s the story of Phillies manager Charlie Manuel and his talented, but troubled, closer Brad Lidge. If you’re a Phillies fan, the basics of this tale are easy to recollect: a courtship that began after the 2007 season ended, yielded a World Series title in 2008, and has, in 2009, been the touchiest subject in regards to the defending champions.
To understand its touchiness, you have to understand what the 2008 season was all about. After tasting the playoffs the previous season, the Phillies made an immediate move to bolster their roster, trading for closer Brad Lidge of the Houston Astros. Lidge, while erratic during his final season with the team, was immediately given the keys to the car in the form of the closer’s role. Charlie Manuel has proven to be a patient, faith-based manager. He encourages his athletes to make their own plays, including his unwavering green light for Jimmy Rollins and Shane Victorino to steal bases. This liberal approach extends to his bullpen, trotting the pitchers out to the mound in crucial situations, even if they’ve been shaky in recent outings. In 2008, there was nothing shaky about Lidge. Sure, he allowed base runners at times, but when you go 48 for 48 in the saves column (including 7 in the playoffs), that’s a fine accomplishment. Allowing just 15 earned runs in 72 regular season games for a 1.95 ERA, he was the ultimate security blanket. If the Phillies led after eight innings, they were certainly going to lead after nine. With his strikeout of Eric Hinske in the World Series, Lidge capped off an incredible season, one that’s going to be extremely hard to top.
The biggest problem with achieving perfection is that it’s expected every time henceforth. Even the most die-hard Phillies fan would be asking for the moon and stars if they believed Lidge was going to duplicate 2008’s astonishing performance.
2009. We’re still astonished….but in a completely different way.
Eleven blown saves. A record of 0-8. His ERA is 7.48. The batting average of his opponents is a shade over .300. The numbers do not lie. As nice as the 31 saves are, the stat is equivalent to having to reach into your septic tank to pull out a $20 bill. A stint on the disabled list for a sprained knee was hoped to be the answer to these issues back in June, but, before long, he was back to his lackluster performance. Manuel has tried other players in closing relief, particularly Ryan Madson, to let Lidge try and work through a mental block. Hasn’t helped. Yet, the skipper is still content to bring him in late in the game to try and save the day, hoping that the Brad Lidge who chugs in from the bullpen gate is the same one whose name is on the receipt of the 2008 World Series trophy.
It’s almost inconceivable that Lidge could have such a fall from grace this fast. It brings to mind the story of the man who won the lottery, only to watch his loved ones and personal life go down the crapper at an alarming pace. It almost seems as if Lidge sold his soul to have one Hall-of-Fame worthy season, and now is paying his debt to the Devil from here on out. When a Phillies fan like myself watched him play in 2008, none of us questioned whether Lidge would falter, or not, under the pressure of closing out the game. Even in the final World Series game, with the score 4 to 3 against Tampa Bay and a man on second base with one out, the collective thought was still “He’ll git em”. He did. Our faith in “Lights Out” Lidge was rewarded every time he came in relief. Now in 2009, everyone groans when his name is called. How do you go from being the heroic cowboy who comes over the hill to save the town at the end of the movie, to being a disoriented invalid that you’re hoping doesn’t have a debilitating stroke just walking out to pitch? As I said, it’s almost inconceivable.
But, like a faithful lover, Charlie Manuel refuses to dump Brad Lidge. He just can’t. Other than one time where Lidge put men on base and Chuck replaced him with Madson on September 8. After all of Lidge’s foibles, Manuel seemed to finally have enough. But it didn’t take long for it to become clear that Lidge still had the closer’s job. For one night, Manuel made Lidge sleep on the sofa, but returned to marital bliss rather quickly. Granted, the loss that Lidge incurred on September 23 to Florida is his first loss in two and a half weeks, and he does have three saves in between those losses, but it’s too close to the post season for comfort. What’s scary is that the Phillies don’t even have their berth for the playoffs locked up yet. What’s worse is that if Lidge had converted those eleven blown saves, the Phillies would already be in.
It’s likely that the Phillies will get in, however. But then what? In an ideal world, the bats will come to life and the Phils will have ten-run leads going into the ninth, but that sense of idealism is best left for LSD enthusiasts. There’s going to be situations where a save is needed. Does Manuel go with Lidge, knowing that the pressure of the playoffs far exceeds that of a three game road series in the middle of June? If Lidge is simply feeling complacent, then perhaps come playoff time, he’ll buckle down and show us the fire that makes him one of the deadliest closers in recent history. But if there’s a mechanical issue or a mental block that’s preventing him from being able to pitch at his best, then Manuel cannot take that risk. Chan Ho Park, Ryan Madson, Jamie Moyer, Brett Myers, and whichever starting pitcher (thinking JA Happ) doesn’t make the postseason rotation are all decent-to-good choices to be the executioner for the ninth inning. But it seems Manuel just can’t let go of Lidge.
Maybe it’s because Charlie knows that Lidge has been through this before. In the 2005 post-season, Lidge gave up a towering (and I cannot stress that word enough) home run to Albert Pujols that still might not have landed. The Astros would win that series, but something changed in Lidge after that. The way Pujols defiantly glared at him after his swing, because everyone knew it was a home run. Pujols didn’t have to watch the ball, and Lidge didn’t even need to turn around. When you put together all of the intangibles in this incident, they go a long way in explaining just how 2006 and 2007 became such disappointments. But once he was traded to Philadelphia, the slate was wiped clean. He was Brad Lidge, the sure thing, once again. All of the memories of failure in Houston were now past him, buried in a storage locker somewhere. Manuel knows that players can break slumps at any time. It just takes encouragement, patience, and a pat on the back. After all, he’s seen Jimmy Rollins, Ryan Howard, and Pat Burrell all struggle at the plate at different times, only to come through when it mattered the most. Lidge can do it, thinks Charlie. He’s sure of it.
Manuel knows what it’s like to have someone lose faith in him, after all. When he managed the Cleveland Indians for two and a half seasons, he had a winning record. In 2000, they were 90-72, good for second in their division. A year later, they went 91-71, enough to capture the division title. His future seemed bright, but there’s a reason why his third year was just a “half”. After starting the 2002 campaign 39-47, Manuel was fired in mid season. It’s alleged that the termination came over a contract dispute, but the disappointing start likely played a role. The man had just made the post-season the year before, and was now looking for managerial openings on Monster.com. The fact that Manuel made a comeback in 2005 as the Phillies honcho, led them to two playoff runs, and netted them their first World Series win in twenty-eight years is proof that Cleveland may have made an error in judgment. If the Indians had let things be and kept ol’ Chuck around, they too could have tasted victory. But last year, Manuel made some people in that organization just a little ill when he won it all somewhere else. Vindication, certainly, tasted good for Charlie Manuel.
Manuel has seen what Lidge is capable of. We all have, right? That 2008 season isn’t going to leave our hearts anytime soon. Lidge, like Manuel was in 2002, has hit a slump. Charlie can either cut his losses, sit Lidge down, and go with someone else to finish off foes in the ninth, or he can keep telling Lidge “you’re my guy”. How would Charlie feel if, during this coming offseason, he dealt Lidge to another team and he suddenly renews his self-faith? If Lidge wins the World Series with his newest home, it would no doubt stick in Manuel’s craw for not keeping fidelity in his closer. We as fans would be crushed to see him do badly for us, and then do great for someone else. No doubt in my mind that it would crush Charlie Manuel the most.
With the regular season winding down, it remains to be seen what the conclusion will be. Will Lidge return to form? Will he fall apart in the key situation? Will Manuel stand by his man? Or will he go to somebody else? Manuel wants to be rewarded for his faith, and so, as of this moment, he’s keeping Lidge penciled in as the closer.
Let’s just hope that both faith, as well as love, haven’t rendered Charlie Manuel blind.
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Football: VICK'S UNLIKELY PROTEGE
VICK’S UNLIKELY PROTEGE
By Justin Henry
When you’re a skill-player who is drafted #1 overall into the National Football League, it’s because there’s something absolutely special about you. For the hundreds of college football players who vie for face time during their playing tenure, to be the one who stands out the most is a rare and unique opportunity. It’s an unmistakable message that says; “You are so special, and we, as the team with the first selection, getting to choose any available college player that we want, are selecting you to be our man. We want you to help lead us to victory, to march us toward a Super Bowl crown, and possibly be the face of our franchise”. In 2001, Michael Vick was bestowed that honor, courtesy of the Atlanta Falcons. Atlanta even brokered a deal with the San Diego Chargers, exchanging draft positions (The Falcons originally had the #5 spot). The Chargers received two other picks in the trade, with their primary one, the #5 overall choice, being used to select LaDainian Tomlinson, one of the premier running backs of this decade.
So it goes without saying that, in order to obtain the services of Michael Vick, the Falcons made some sacrifices. After all, don’t you have to break a few eggs in order to make an omelet? But what an omelet it was. Once Vick took over the starting role from Chris Chandler that season, he scrambled fast and didn’t look back. Three years removed from a crushing defeat in Super Bowl XXXIII to Denver, the Falcons fans had reason to be optimistic. This blur, this….this thing that was avoiding defensive linemen, sidestepping linebackers, throwing over cornerbacks, and skipping past safeties, was now the talk of the league. Sure, every fan had seen a quarterback capable of running with the ball, but….nothing like they were witnessing. Though not technically perfect in a traditional sense, Vick demonstrated athletic defiance. Pass rushes became futile against his ridiculous foot speed. Opposing coaches found it frustrating to game plan against a player with the improvisational skills of a seasoned stage comic. He could have statistics that would wilt under any conventional scrutiny, but Vick would still win the game for his team just by, well, being Vick. He was seemingly immune to normal; bulletproof to all football logic. For God’s sake, the man led the Falcons to the NFC Championship game in 2004 with a 78.1 passer rating and still had a realistic chance at beating the Philadelphia Eagles. Who does that?
The same man who gets convicted of financing a dog fighting ring in Surry County, Virginia.
Unless you’ve lived under a rock these last few years, or you pawned the television to pay the cable bill, then you’re well aware of Michael Vick’s deplorable hobby by now. By financing, and participating, in a barbaric “sport” that demeans, mistreats, and ends the lives of living creatures, Vick pled guilty and was sacked by something other than a hungry defense. There was no avoiding the hit that came in the form of a twenty-three month sentence. Ushered off to prison in Leavenworth, Kansas, Vick had lost everything. His freedom, for sure. But his endorsements, his credibility, the majority of his fan support, and possibly his chance to play football again, were wiped off the slate in an instant.
In 2001, he was a coveted athlete, as well as the poster child for the NFL’s future. In 2004, he was the leader of a contending franchise. In 2007, he was a convicted felon, serving his sentence.
Fast forward to 2009, when Vick’s sentence ended. Excepting any further chastening from Commissioner Roger Goodell, he was free to return to the NFL. When the Atlanta Falcons decided to wash their hands of the convict in June of that year, it opened up the buyer’s market. Any of the other thirty-one teams that wanted a talented, yet possibly rusty quarterback with a renowned criminal history on their team, was free to acquire him, should they meet his price.
Can you imagine my surprise as an Eagles fan when my local CBS Sports affiliate sent me the text alert with the big news? On August 13, 2009, the firestorm began in the Delaware Valley.
As an Eagles apologist (with years of practice, believe me), I was able to rationalize the Vick signing with the realization that, although he had done unspeakable things to relatively innocent animals, he had served his assigned punishment. Convicted felons who are released from prison are free to rejoin society, provided that they fulfill all further stipulations of their release. Contrition is not a requirement, but it certainly helps if you’re a public figure like Vick is. After all, the man has legions of fans, including many new ones in the Philadelphia area who are looking to see if his addition to the team can generate a winning spark.
Amongst that new-found fan base are children, and lots of them. These are the ones who are tomorrow’s football stars, after all. As they hone their skills in sandlots, parks, backyards, and high school fields with their friends and peers, they look to the professional game for stars to emulate. This is, of course, where Vick has to set his best example. Breaking off big runs and stymieing the defense to help the Eagles win? Good influence. Having run-ins with the law and playing with an unsportsmanlike attitude? Bad influence. Charles Barkley may have tried to argue that athletes are not role-models, but there’s no choice in the matter. Public figures are called upon to set examples, since it’s the middle class audience that pays their salaries.
But when Vick takes the field for the first time as an Eagle this weekend, there’s somebody else out there that could benefit from his example. Not a kid, mind you.
I’m talking about Plaxico Burress.
Burress, most recently one of the saviors for the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLII, just began his own two-year prison sentence recently for an equally memorable crime. Briefly, he brought an unregistered semi-automatic pistol into a nightclub into a New York City nightclub in November 2008, discharged it accidentally in his pants, and wounded his own thigh. The fallout was quite the downward spiral: he was placed on indefinite suspension by the Giants and eventually released from his contract. He was indicted by the grand jury for his possession and for reckless endangerment, and, in the end, received his firm sentence. Burress’ touchdown that gave the Giants their third Super Bowl title is now a distant memory. One memory that he will never have the thrill to experience? The birth of his second child, slated to take place this November.
Burress will have plenty of time to sit in Riker’s Island and ponder over the night where it all went wrong for him. At 32, there’s a very slim chance that he will become the dominant and productive wide receiver he once was, if he even returns to football at all. He’ll be 34 or 35 when he crosses that bridge, and very few receivers make it to that age. Sure, teams may covet the fact that he’s 6’5” and has great playing instincts, but will it be enough?
In Michael Vick’s mind, at some point during his sentence, he had to wonder if he would ever get the chance to be “Michael Vick: Enigmatic Quarterback” again. At 29, he still has his speed, conditioning, youth, and instincts at his disposal, and it was a no brainer that some team would risk the public outcry to have his skills in their employ. But when you’re in your mid thirties, like Burress will be, there’s no guarantees.
When Vick was signed by the Eagles last month, the public reception wasn’t just divided, but it was vociferous. News outlets, not just the sports ones, had it covered. The media frenzy, however, has died down considerably since that time. Much of it has to do with Vick’s work toward repairing his image. While no one will forget what he has done, his apology at the press conference, his vow to set better examples, and his speaking engagement at Nueva Esperanza Academy in Philadelphia before 200 students, are public relations boons. If these reparations continue, and Vick remains a humble figure who avoids trouble for the rest of his life, the Bad Newz Kennels incident may once and for all be water under the bridge.
Burress should take notice. While Vick hasn’t completely run the gauntlet of dog-jokes that make the rounds, he has his chance to live it all down. And it’s going to continue this Sunday, when he’s activated to play against the Kansas City Chiefs. Burress may never play football again, but he too has the chance to live it all down as well upon his release. Whether it’s as a player, a mentor, a public speaker, or whatever, Plaxico Burress can have what Michael Vick is working on getting: redemption in the form of righting a wrong and showing that if you make a mistake, you can fix it by serving your time, your community, your followers, and your name well.
That might just be worth more than that Super Bowl ring that he earned.
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
By Justin Henry
When you’re a skill-player who is drafted #1 overall into the National Football League, it’s because there’s something absolutely special about you. For the hundreds of college football players who vie for face time during their playing tenure, to be the one who stands out the most is a rare and unique opportunity. It’s an unmistakable message that says; “You are so special, and we, as the team with the first selection, getting to choose any available college player that we want, are selecting you to be our man. We want you to help lead us to victory, to march us toward a Super Bowl crown, and possibly be the face of our franchise”. In 2001, Michael Vick was bestowed that honor, courtesy of the Atlanta Falcons. Atlanta even brokered a deal with the San Diego Chargers, exchanging draft positions (The Falcons originally had the #5 spot). The Chargers received two other picks in the trade, with their primary one, the #5 overall choice, being used to select LaDainian Tomlinson, one of the premier running backs of this decade.
So it goes without saying that, in order to obtain the services of Michael Vick, the Falcons made some sacrifices. After all, don’t you have to break a few eggs in order to make an omelet? But what an omelet it was. Once Vick took over the starting role from Chris Chandler that season, he scrambled fast and didn’t look back. Three years removed from a crushing defeat in Super Bowl XXXIII to Denver, the Falcons fans had reason to be optimistic. This blur, this….this thing that was avoiding defensive linemen, sidestepping linebackers, throwing over cornerbacks, and skipping past safeties, was now the talk of the league. Sure, every fan had seen a quarterback capable of running with the ball, but….nothing like they were witnessing. Though not technically perfect in a traditional sense, Vick demonstrated athletic defiance. Pass rushes became futile against his ridiculous foot speed. Opposing coaches found it frustrating to game plan against a player with the improvisational skills of a seasoned stage comic. He could have statistics that would wilt under any conventional scrutiny, but Vick would still win the game for his team just by, well, being Vick. He was seemingly immune to normal; bulletproof to all football logic. For God’s sake, the man led the Falcons to the NFC Championship game in 2004 with a 78.1 passer rating and still had a realistic chance at beating the Philadelphia Eagles. Who does that?
The same man who gets convicted of financing a dog fighting ring in Surry County, Virginia.
Unless you’ve lived under a rock these last few years, or you pawned the television to pay the cable bill, then you’re well aware of Michael Vick’s deplorable hobby by now. By financing, and participating, in a barbaric “sport” that demeans, mistreats, and ends the lives of living creatures, Vick pled guilty and was sacked by something other than a hungry defense. There was no avoiding the hit that came in the form of a twenty-three month sentence. Ushered off to prison in Leavenworth, Kansas, Vick had lost everything. His freedom, for sure. But his endorsements, his credibility, the majority of his fan support, and possibly his chance to play football again, were wiped off the slate in an instant.
In 2001, he was a coveted athlete, as well as the poster child for the NFL’s future. In 2004, he was the leader of a contending franchise. In 2007, he was a convicted felon, serving his sentence.
Fast forward to 2009, when Vick’s sentence ended. Excepting any further chastening from Commissioner Roger Goodell, he was free to return to the NFL. When the Atlanta Falcons decided to wash their hands of the convict in June of that year, it opened up the buyer’s market. Any of the other thirty-one teams that wanted a talented, yet possibly rusty quarterback with a renowned criminal history on their team, was free to acquire him, should they meet his price.
Can you imagine my surprise as an Eagles fan when my local CBS Sports affiliate sent me the text alert with the big news? On August 13, 2009, the firestorm began in the Delaware Valley.
As an Eagles apologist (with years of practice, believe me), I was able to rationalize the Vick signing with the realization that, although he had done unspeakable things to relatively innocent animals, he had served his assigned punishment. Convicted felons who are released from prison are free to rejoin society, provided that they fulfill all further stipulations of their release. Contrition is not a requirement, but it certainly helps if you’re a public figure like Vick is. After all, the man has legions of fans, including many new ones in the Philadelphia area who are looking to see if his addition to the team can generate a winning spark.
Amongst that new-found fan base are children, and lots of them. These are the ones who are tomorrow’s football stars, after all. As they hone their skills in sandlots, parks, backyards, and high school fields with their friends and peers, they look to the professional game for stars to emulate. This is, of course, where Vick has to set his best example. Breaking off big runs and stymieing the defense to help the Eagles win? Good influence. Having run-ins with the law and playing with an unsportsmanlike attitude? Bad influence. Charles Barkley may have tried to argue that athletes are not role-models, but there’s no choice in the matter. Public figures are called upon to set examples, since it’s the middle class audience that pays their salaries.
But when Vick takes the field for the first time as an Eagle this weekend, there’s somebody else out there that could benefit from his example. Not a kid, mind you.
I’m talking about Plaxico Burress.
Burress, most recently one of the saviors for the New York Giants in Super Bowl XLII, just began his own two-year prison sentence recently for an equally memorable crime. Briefly, he brought an unregistered semi-automatic pistol into a nightclub into a New York City nightclub in November 2008, discharged it accidentally in his pants, and wounded his own thigh. The fallout was quite the downward spiral: he was placed on indefinite suspension by the Giants and eventually released from his contract. He was indicted by the grand jury for his possession and for reckless endangerment, and, in the end, received his firm sentence. Burress’ touchdown that gave the Giants their third Super Bowl title is now a distant memory. One memory that he will never have the thrill to experience? The birth of his second child, slated to take place this November.
Burress will have plenty of time to sit in Riker’s Island and ponder over the night where it all went wrong for him. At 32, there’s a very slim chance that he will become the dominant and productive wide receiver he once was, if he even returns to football at all. He’ll be 34 or 35 when he crosses that bridge, and very few receivers make it to that age. Sure, teams may covet the fact that he’s 6’5” and has great playing instincts, but will it be enough?
In Michael Vick’s mind, at some point during his sentence, he had to wonder if he would ever get the chance to be “Michael Vick: Enigmatic Quarterback” again. At 29, he still has his speed, conditioning, youth, and instincts at his disposal, and it was a no brainer that some team would risk the public outcry to have his skills in their employ. But when you’re in your mid thirties, like Burress will be, there’s no guarantees.
When Vick was signed by the Eagles last month, the public reception wasn’t just divided, but it was vociferous. News outlets, not just the sports ones, had it covered. The media frenzy, however, has died down considerably since that time. Much of it has to do with Vick’s work toward repairing his image. While no one will forget what he has done, his apology at the press conference, his vow to set better examples, and his speaking engagement at Nueva Esperanza Academy in Philadelphia before 200 students, are public relations boons. If these reparations continue, and Vick remains a humble figure who avoids trouble for the rest of his life, the Bad Newz Kennels incident may once and for all be water under the bridge.
Burress should take notice. While Vick hasn’t completely run the gauntlet of dog-jokes that make the rounds, he has his chance to live it all down. And it’s going to continue this Sunday, when he’s activated to play against the Kansas City Chiefs. Burress may never play football again, but he too has the chance to live it all down as well upon his release. Whether it’s as a player, a mentor, a public speaker, or whatever, Plaxico Burress can have what Michael Vick is working on getting: redemption in the form of righting a wrong and showing that if you make a mistake, you can fix it by serving your time, your community, your followers, and your name well.
That might just be worth more than that Super Bowl ring that he earned.
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded columnist or author. He tweets at http://twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself at http://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
Baseball: HEX AND THE CITI
HEX AND THE CITI
by Justin Henry
“With (Santana), now, I have no doubt that we're going to win in our division. So this year, to Jimmy Rollins, we are the team to beat."
In February of 2008, that statement emanated from the mouth of Carlos Beltran, better known to Phillies fans as “that idiot on the Mets”. Actually, that’s a bit of a misnomer, since the moniker applies to everyone who suits up in white, blue, and orange. But Beltran is one of the more well known “idiots” to us. After he hits eight home runs in the 2004 postseason, he soon after flew the coup in Houston for a rather lucrative contract in Queens, NY. As a Phillies fan, you can’t help but sneer when your most intensely hated competition lands a premium talent like Beltran. But given that from 1994 to 2001 that we really had nothing to cheer for except the rise of Scott Rolen and Jimmy Rollins, sometimes we took our pleasure in watching the Mets collapse under the weight of high expectations.
We’re petty like that.
The opening statement, for those of you too far ingrained in your daily lives to follow the pissing match between the Phillies and Mets, was a knock on a statement made by Phillies shortstop Jimmy Rollins one year earlier. Rollins had promised, before the 2007 season, that the Phillies would be “selling some tickets in October”, implying a playoff run, possibly at the expense of the Mets. The Mets took exception and, through mid-September, seemed they would have the last laugh. With a seven game lead over the Phillies and seventeen games remaining, they’d have to be idiots to screw this up. Of course, since the Philly Phaithful perceives the Mets to be idiots anyway, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised that, in the end, the Phillies leapfrogged the Mets and made the post-season on the final day of the season, while the Mets had to watch from the outside. The Phillies were bounced from round one by the very hot and very dangerous Colorado Rockies, but the small measure of victory was clear: we did better than you. And, at least for a year, we could hold that over the Mets fans.
So when Beltran made his comments, he had reason to crow: his team had just signed Johan Santana, a pitcher who had been a blossoming flower in a little-viewed garden in Minnesota. He was now planted into the media-frenzied spotlight in New York, where he would get plenty of face time. And most importantly, he could shut down any batter put in front of him. In other words, Beltran said in so many words to Phillies’ fans what a nice big middle finger would have indicated.
Except what happened was this: the Phillies won the division on the final weekend (again!), the Mets missed a chance at the playoffs despite high expectations from all (again!), and the Phillies added a twist for this go-around: they won the 2008 World Series. That’s right, while the Mets were still as speechless as Taylor Swift having her moment hi-jacked, the Phillies conquered the baseball world and claimed its top prize.
The fallout was expected. Changes would be made in the off-season. There would have to be. They would be drastic and swift. Fred Wilpon, Jeff Wilpon, Omar Minaya, and Jerry Manuel were not about to rest when their arch-nemesis was parading around with the World Series trophy. Every time Chase Utley’s expletive laden speech at the Phillies’ championship parade was referenced, it had to be a spike into the spine of the Mets kingdom.
Changes? Oh, they were made. First up, the reigning American League saves-champion Frankie Rodriguez was poached from the Angels with an inflated contract. JJ Putz was brought in to set up for Rodriguez, a man who could be a closer on 75% of the teams in the league himself. Disappointments like Aaron Heilman and Endy Chavez were shipped away. Alex Cora was signed to add field generalship. And to further sweeten the pot, veteran home run collector Gary Sheffield was signed just ten days before opening day. When added to the likes of Beltran, Santana, Carlos Delgado, David Wright, and Luis Castillo, this was clearly a team that was ready to contend, if not challenge for the World Series trophy, if not win it.
As a Phillies die-hard, I watch what the Mets do in the same sense that the Reagan administration observed the Soviet Union’s activities. While remaining confident in my team (they ARE the champions, after all), I had to admit that the Mets were doing everything conceivable to spoil the chances of a repeat title run. And I HATE giving the Mets credit.
So with their new stadium, Citi Field, opening, the Mets were poised to christen it and their 2009 season with a magnum opus performance. After a 9-12 April, they rebounded in May to bring their record to 28-21, ending the month only a half a game out of first place, held by the Phillies. All of this had the makings for an intense summer of one-upsmanship and jockeying for position. Surely there’d be the same level of intensity as in previous seasons, with fans of both teams spewing venom and disdain toward one another, right?
Yeah, right.
Both teams had their issues in June, and the month ended with the Mets still in striking distance (2 ½ games) of the Phillies’ lead. But what that doesn’t indicate is that the Mets went 9-18 over the month, winning just a third of their games. They lost their last five games of the month, three to the Yankees and two to the Brewers. Injuries plagued the club like some demented swine flu outbreak. With two weeks to go in the regular season, David Wright is the only player on the entire team that has played more than 100 games (103 as of this writing). Johan Santana, their surefire ace, lost three starts in the month. They were swept by those pesky Phillies, including now-shaky closer Brad Lidge scoring two saves on the enemy. The Mets limped into the All-Star break resembling the victim of a minesweeping expedition. They then lost six of their next eight games coming out of the excursion while Tony Bernazard, the team’s VP of player personnel, was fired in the midst of reportedly challenging several Mets’ minor leaguers to a fight. Yes, an honest-to-goodness fistfight. Meanwhile, the Phillies had gone 20-7 over the month of July, and were watching the Mets fade away in their rear-view mirror.
Do we really have to discuss August? Or can I just write here that the Mets went 10-19 over the month, that injuries further albatrossed the team, and not pontificate further as to let this poor team have some dignity?
September? Forget about it. It took until September 6 for Frankie Rodriguez to get his 30th save of the season. The Florida Marlins swept them. The Phillies took three out of four from them. Joke pitchers like Nelson Figueroa, Bobby Parnell and Tim Redding are losing games instead of star players like Santana winning them. Johan can just watch from the disabled list while this team that he was named the ace for, this polarizing franchise where you either love them or hate them, has self-destructed in a cloud of injuries, costly losses, and failure to meet their highest expectations.
My Phillies? It’s September 21. They have fourteen games to play, with an eight-game chokehold over the NL East. They win six games, they win their third straight division title. The Mets aren’t even close enough to look in to see how the Phillies fare when (if?) they make the postseason. They’re 23 games out as of September 21, with a 65-85 record stamped on their foreheads like a scarlet letter.
Ever since Carlos Beltran opened his mouth some nineteen months ago, the Mets have had nothing but disappointment and bitter feelings. Many fans and teams experience this, but not with the expectations they had for themselves. On paper, it was a roster that could win 100 games without anyone being surprised. But the games, as we know, are not played on paper.
Me? I’m a little disappointed. Yeah, it’s a year’s worth of Mets fans being unable to talk trash, but what’s the point. My friends who root for the ‘Kings of Queens’ are so much more fun to mock when the Mets fall juuuuust short. They’re better at conversation when their reaction is “GAAAHHH. I CAN’T *BLEEP*ING BELIEVE IT!”. But ever since August, they’ve had to resign themselves to calling 2009 a wash. They’ve been mute, hoping their Giants or Jets pick things up for them in the NFL. No crying. No whining. Just quiet bitterness.
And if the Phillies win it all again, the only thing tainting the victory is knowing that dangling it in the Mets fans’ faces won’t have that same glorious effect.
Pity.
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded (as well as well-paid) columnist or author. He tweets at twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself athttp://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh
by Justin Henry
“With (Santana), now, I have no doubt that we're going to win in our division. So this year, to Jimmy Rollins, we are the team to beat."
In February of 2008, that statement emanated from the mouth of Carlos Beltran, better known to Phillies fans as “that idiot on the Mets”. Actually, that’s a bit of a misnomer, since the moniker applies to everyone who suits up in white, blue, and orange. But Beltran is one of the more well known “idiots” to us. After he hits eight home runs in the 2004 postseason, he soon after flew the coup in Houston for a rather lucrative contract in Queens, NY. As a Phillies fan, you can’t help but sneer when your most intensely hated competition lands a premium talent like Beltran. But given that from 1994 to 2001 that we really had nothing to cheer for except the rise of Scott Rolen and Jimmy Rollins, sometimes we took our pleasure in watching the Mets collapse under the weight of high expectations.
We’re petty like that.
The opening statement, for those of you too far ingrained in your daily lives to follow the pissing match between the Phillies and Mets, was a knock on a statement made by Phillies shortstop Jimmy Rollins one year earlier. Rollins had promised, before the 2007 season, that the Phillies would be “selling some tickets in October”, implying a playoff run, possibly at the expense of the Mets. The Mets took exception and, through mid-September, seemed they would have the last laugh. With a seven game lead over the Phillies and seventeen games remaining, they’d have to be idiots to screw this up. Of course, since the Philly Phaithful perceives the Mets to be idiots anyway, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised that, in the end, the Phillies leapfrogged the Mets and made the post-season on the final day of the season, while the Mets had to watch from the outside. The Phillies were bounced from round one by the very hot and very dangerous Colorado Rockies, but the small measure of victory was clear: we did better than you. And, at least for a year, we could hold that over the Mets fans.
So when Beltran made his comments, he had reason to crow: his team had just signed Johan Santana, a pitcher who had been a blossoming flower in a little-viewed garden in Minnesota. He was now planted into the media-frenzied spotlight in New York, where he would get plenty of face time. And most importantly, he could shut down any batter put in front of him. In other words, Beltran said in so many words to Phillies’ fans what a nice big middle finger would have indicated.
Except what happened was this: the Phillies won the division on the final weekend (again!), the Mets missed a chance at the playoffs despite high expectations from all (again!), and the Phillies added a twist for this go-around: they won the 2008 World Series. That’s right, while the Mets were still as speechless as Taylor Swift having her moment hi-jacked, the Phillies conquered the baseball world and claimed its top prize.
The fallout was expected. Changes would be made in the off-season. There would have to be. They would be drastic and swift. Fred Wilpon, Jeff Wilpon, Omar Minaya, and Jerry Manuel were not about to rest when their arch-nemesis was parading around with the World Series trophy. Every time Chase Utley’s expletive laden speech at the Phillies’ championship parade was referenced, it had to be a spike into the spine of the Mets kingdom.
Changes? Oh, they were made. First up, the reigning American League saves-champion Frankie Rodriguez was poached from the Angels with an inflated contract. JJ Putz was brought in to set up for Rodriguez, a man who could be a closer on 75% of the teams in the league himself. Disappointments like Aaron Heilman and Endy Chavez were shipped away. Alex Cora was signed to add field generalship. And to further sweeten the pot, veteran home run collector Gary Sheffield was signed just ten days before opening day. When added to the likes of Beltran, Santana, Carlos Delgado, David Wright, and Luis Castillo, this was clearly a team that was ready to contend, if not challenge for the World Series trophy, if not win it.
As a Phillies die-hard, I watch what the Mets do in the same sense that the Reagan administration observed the Soviet Union’s activities. While remaining confident in my team (they ARE the champions, after all), I had to admit that the Mets were doing everything conceivable to spoil the chances of a repeat title run. And I HATE giving the Mets credit.
So with their new stadium, Citi Field, opening, the Mets were poised to christen it and their 2009 season with a magnum opus performance. After a 9-12 April, they rebounded in May to bring their record to 28-21, ending the month only a half a game out of first place, held by the Phillies. All of this had the makings for an intense summer of one-upsmanship and jockeying for position. Surely there’d be the same level of intensity as in previous seasons, with fans of both teams spewing venom and disdain toward one another, right?
Yeah, right.
Both teams had their issues in June, and the month ended with the Mets still in striking distance (2 ½ games) of the Phillies’ lead. But what that doesn’t indicate is that the Mets went 9-18 over the month, winning just a third of their games. They lost their last five games of the month, three to the Yankees and two to the Brewers. Injuries plagued the club like some demented swine flu outbreak. With two weeks to go in the regular season, David Wright is the only player on the entire team that has played more than 100 games (103 as of this writing). Johan Santana, their surefire ace, lost three starts in the month. They were swept by those pesky Phillies, including now-shaky closer Brad Lidge scoring two saves on the enemy. The Mets limped into the All-Star break resembling the victim of a minesweeping expedition. They then lost six of their next eight games coming out of the excursion while Tony Bernazard, the team’s VP of player personnel, was fired in the midst of reportedly challenging several Mets’ minor leaguers to a fight. Yes, an honest-to-goodness fistfight. Meanwhile, the Phillies had gone 20-7 over the month of July, and were watching the Mets fade away in their rear-view mirror.
Do we really have to discuss August? Or can I just write here that the Mets went 10-19 over the month, that injuries further albatrossed the team, and not pontificate further as to let this poor team have some dignity?
September? Forget about it. It took until September 6 for Frankie Rodriguez to get his 30th save of the season. The Florida Marlins swept them. The Phillies took three out of four from them. Joke pitchers like Nelson Figueroa, Bobby Parnell and Tim Redding are losing games instead of star players like Santana winning them. Johan can just watch from the disabled list while this team that he was named the ace for, this polarizing franchise where you either love them or hate them, has self-destructed in a cloud of injuries, costly losses, and failure to meet their highest expectations.
My Phillies? It’s September 21. They have fourteen games to play, with an eight-game chokehold over the NL East. They win six games, they win their third straight division title. The Mets aren’t even close enough to look in to see how the Phillies fare when (if?) they make the postseason. They’re 23 games out as of September 21, with a 65-85 record stamped on their foreheads like a scarlet letter.
Ever since Carlos Beltran opened his mouth some nineteen months ago, the Mets have had nothing but disappointment and bitter feelings. Many fans and teams experience this, but not with the expectations they had for themselves. On paper, it was a roster that could win 100 games without anyone being surprised. But the games, as we know, are not played on paper.
Me? I’m a little disappointed. Yeah, it’s a year’s worth of Mets fans being unable to talk trash, but what’s the point. My friends who root for the ‘Kings of Queens’ are so much more fun to mock when the Mets fall juuuuust short. They’re better at conversation when their reaction is “GAAAHHH. I CAN’T *BLEEP*ING BELIEVE IT!”. But ever since August, they’ve had to resign themselves to calling 2009 a wash. They’ve been mute, hoping their Giants or Jets pick things up for them in the NFL. No crying. No whining. Just quiet bitterness.
And if the Phillies win it all again, the only thing tainting the victory is knowing that dangling it in the Mets fans’ faces won’t have that same glorious effect.
Pity.
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded (as well as well-paid) columnist or author. He tweets at twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself athttp://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh
Wrestling: "DID YOU KNOW" OF OUR INFERIORITY COMPLEX?
Written September 21, 2009
"DID YOU KNOW" OF OUR INFERIORITY COMPLEX?
by Justin Henry
"Why do you watch that crap?".
Chances are that, as a wrestling fan, you've been asked that question, or some variant, a few times during your viewership tenure. Of course, we all have our reasons as to why we watch said "crap". Some of us love the hybrid of sport, comic book, and movie, where battle is waged over pride, glory, prestige, and infamy. Others appreciate the intricacy that some wrestlers demonstrate in their craft, with such crisp execution making wrestling seem as real as possible. And then there's a sizeable group that enjoys the camp element that wrestling provides. I mean, UFC fans can extol the virtues of Frank Mir and Georges St. Pierre if they wish, but unless one of them enters the Octagon dressed as a plumber, it's going to be hard to convert a number of wrestling fans into fight freaks. I mean, if Mir were to smash a coconut over the head of St. Pierre, it’s possible that we may truly be ushering in a new crossover audience between the two mediums.
It goes without saying that wrestling has, and will always have, a large number of die-hard supporters who enjoy the show for a number of reasons. To the opposite effect, the business will always have its doppelgangers, a collection of detractors who thumb their noses at it. I guess Jeff Jarrett put it best when he said on a 1998 A&E special on wrestling; "To a critic, no explanation will do. To a fan, no explanation is needed”. Either you love wrestling, or you don’t. And to those who love wrestling, such as me and possibly you, the reader, we are a large congregation. Millions of people watch every week, and a good number of us are not ashamed to admit it. Do you own a wrestling t-shirt? Ever purchased a pay-per-view? Use a catchphrase or wrestling lingo in conversation with a non fan? Have you ever locked an ex-girlfriend in a full nelson just to see if she could break free from it?
….maybe.
The point is, we watch wrestling because we see something in it. And the recidivism rate is very high. If we sat through this week’s show where John Cena “overcame the odds” yet again, Hornswoggle embarrassed Chavo Guerrero again, and Michael Cole uttered many moronic statements again, then chances are you’re going to watch next week as well. Because as wrestling fans, we accept the stupidity, willing to squint our eyes in search of instances of lucidity. We generally succeed, finding moments where we can justify our fandom. Maybe it’s a great match. Maybe somebody like Chris Jericho or Shawn Michaels captivated you on the microphone. Whatever the reason is, if you’re invested enough in the product from what you see in the arena, you’re not going to need much to convince you to watch future shows, right?
WWE is not going to leave that to chance.
Beginning in 2008, WWE began a tradition that would take place for ten seconds on each televised show. Raw, Smackdown, and ECW would each feature the dreaded “Did You Know?” factoid. The factoid would pop up after a commercial break, and inform us viewers about something we may not have been aware of. Not a historic moment in the annals of WWE history, mind you, but of something that they’re proud of in regards to the product they present.
Well hey, they SHOULD be proud of themselves, right? I mean, for half a century, they’ve been the model of consistency in the world of wrestling, providing great entertainment to the fans willing to invest their time and energy to it. In fact, let’s take a look at some recent examples of their pride, shall we?
Raw, September 14, 2009: Raw was seen by more people the previous week than every show on ABC, The CW, and Fox.
Whew! I am SO glad to see that the show that I watched did better in the ratings than first-run episodes of Castle, Gossip Girl, Lie to Me, and One Tree Hill. You know, my mavenism of WWE was really contingent on those Nielsen ratings. Lord knows I only watch wrestling when it beats out reruns of network television shows. Had Raw lost to Gossip Girl that week, I’d have to just get rid of every WWE DVD I own and whole-heartedly support Blake Lively. Because I’m a trendy front-runner! WWE won the ratings “war”, so it’s them that I will support!
Superstars, September 10, 2009: WWE Superstars was WGN America's #1 show for all of last week.
Yes! Not only is WWE defeating reruns of CURRENT network television shows, they’re also soundly defeating shows like In the Heat of the Night, Nash Bridges, 7th Heaven, Barney Miller, and Bewitched! How does Vince McMahon do it? How does he create a product that is capable of drawing more viewers than television shows that haven’t been relevant since, at latest, George W Bush’s first term in office? I feel like a player on a winning team! Go WWE!
Raw, August 24, 2009: more than one million more viewers watched Raw the previous week than Monday Night Football on ESPN
Well, as if my devotion to WWE couldn’t be any HIGHER, the Raw brand talent proved that they are the place to be on Mondays! They beat the NFL! Yes, the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE! Was it an important game? Well, no, it was a pre-season game between the Carolina Panthers and New York Giants. And since it is pre-season, the starting players were all deactivated after the second quarter so that the understudies could compete for roster spots. But still, victory! Let not honesty get in the way of a technicality.
These are just samples from the buffet of facts that World Wrestling Entertainment provides for me, you, and its millions of other viewers on a weekly basis so that we understand just how great they are. Sure, they could just, I don’t know, provide a compelling product with quality writing and performance, but this cinches it. Every week, if you have even the tiniest doubt that the wrestling show you’re watching is leaving you sterile and unfulfilled, then just wait for the “Did You Know?” factoid. It’s all of the reassurance you’re going to need.
I myself have been a fan since 1989. Yes, for twenty years, I’ve been an avid follower of World Wrestling Entertainment, being a privy to many classic moments. I could rattle off my wonderful memories such as Randy Savage being bitten by a snake, Roddy Piper painting half of his body black to intimidate Bad News Brown, The Undertaker dying and then levitating toward heaven after a soliloquy, Brian Pillman using a firearm to ward off Steve Austin, Mark Henry fondling a transvestite, a militant Black Panthers-esque army like The Nation of Domination spreading fear, Dawn Marie killing her elderly husband with pulse-pounding sex, Kane allegedly consummating love with a dead body, a terror cell attacking The Undertaker with piano wire, and Vince McMahon dying in a limousine explosion. And as you and I clamor for more priceless treasures to be broadcast over our HD TV sets, the WWE feels insecure. They don’t want to lose our loyalty, hence the “Did You Know?” spots.
I think I speak for all of us when I say this: as long as WWE continues to win in the Nielsen ratings over TV shows that most of us have never considered watching, then Vince McMahon will still get our top dollar.
But should Gossip Girl surge ahead on ratings points, I may have to alter my viewing habits.
Until then, never fear, Vince. I'll still watch that "crap".
(Credit to thehistoryofwwe.com for their transcription of WWE’s Did You Know facts.)
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded (as well as well-paid) columnist or author. He tweets at twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself athttp://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
"DID YOU KNOW" OF OUR INFERIORITY COMPLEX?
by Justin Henry
"Why do you watch that crap?".
Chances are that, as a wrestling fan, you've been asked that question, or some variant, a few times during your viewership tenure. Of course, we all have our reasons as to why we watch said "crap". Some of us love the hybrid of sport, comic book, and movie, where battle is waged over pride, glory, prestige, and infamy. Others appreciate the intricacy that some wrestlers demonstrate in their craft, with such crisp execution making wrestling seem as real as possible. And then there's a sizeable group that enjoys the camp element that wrestling provides. I mean, UFC fans can extol the virtues of Frank Mir and Georges St. Pierre if they wish, but unless one of them enters the Octagon dressed as a plumber, it's going to be hard to convert a number of wrestling fans into fight freaks. I mean, if Mir were to smash a coconut over the head of St. Pierre, it’s possible that we may truly be ushering in a new crossover audience between the two mediums.
It goes without saying that wrestling has, and will always have, a large number of die-hard supporters who enjoy the show for a number of reasons. To the opposite effect, the business will always have its doppelgangers, a collection of detractors who thumb their noses at it. I guess Jeff Jarrett put it best when he said on a 1998 A&E special on wrestling; "To a critic, no explanation will do. To a fan, no explanation is needed”. Either you love wrestling, or you don’t. And to those who love wrestling, such as me and possibly you, the reader, we are a large congregation. Millions of people watch every week, and a good number of us are not ashamed to admit it. Do you own a wrestling t-shirt? Ever purchased a pay-per-view? Use a catchphrase or wrestling lingo in conversation with a non fan? Have you ever locked an ex-girlfriend in a full nelson just to see if she could break free from it?
….maybe.
The point is, we watch wrestling because we see something in it. And the recidivism rate is very high. If we sat through this week’s show where John Cena “overcame the odds” yet again, Hornswoggle embarrassed Chavo Guerrero again, and Michael Cole uttered many moronic statements again, then chances are you’re going to watch next week as well. Because as wrestling fans, we accept the stupidity, willing to squint our eyes in search of instances of lucidity. We generally succeed, finding moments where we can justify our fandom. Maybe it’s a great match. Maybe somebody like Chris Jericho or Shawn Michaels captivated you on the microphone. Whatever the reason is, if you’re invested enough in the product from what you see in the arena, you’re not going to need much to convince you to watch future shows, right?
WWE is not going to leave that to chance.
Beginning in 2008, WWE began a tradition that would take place for ten seconds on each televised show. Raw, Smackdown, and ECW would each feature the dreaded “Did You Know?” factoid. The factoid would pop up after a commercial break, and inform us viewers about something we may not have been aware of. Not a historic moment in the annals of WWE history, mind you, but of something that they’re proud of in regards to the product they present.
Well hey, they SHOULD be proud of themselves, right? I mean, for half a century, they’ve been the model of consistency in the world of wrestling, providing great entertainment to the fans willing to invest their time and energy to it. In fact, let’s take a look at some recent examples of their pride, shall we?
Raw, September 14, 2009: Raw was seen by more people the previous week than every show on ABC, The CW, and Fox.
Whew! I am SO glad to see that the show that I watched did better in the ratings than first-run episodes of Castle, Gossip Girl, Lie to Me, and One Tree Hill. You know, my mavenism of WWE was really contingent on those Nielsen ratings. Lord knows I only watch wrestling when it beats out reruns of network television shows. Had Raw lost to Gossip Girl that week, I’d have to just get rid of every WWE DVD I own and whole-heartedly support Blake Lively. Because I’m a trendy front-runner! WWE won the ratings “war”, so it’s them that I will support!
Superstars, September 10, 2009: WWE Superstars was WGN America's #1 show for all of last week.
Yes! Not only is WWE defeating reruns of CURRENT network television shows, they’re also soundly defeating shows like In the Heat of the Night, Nash Bridges, 7th Heaven, Barney Miller, and Bewitched! How does Vince McMahon do it? How does he create a product that is capable of drawing more viewers than television shows that haven’t been relevant since, at latest, George W Bush’s first term in office? I feel like a player on a winning team! Go WWE!
Raw, August 24, 2009: more than one million more viewers watched Raw the previous week than Monday Night Football on ESPN
Well, as if my devotion to WWE couldn’t be any HIGHER, the Raw brand talent proved that they are the place to be on Mondays! They beat the NFL! Yes, the NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE! Was it an important game? Well, no, it was a pre-season game between the Carolina Panthers and New York Giants. And since it is pre-season, the starting players were all deactivated after the second quarter so that the understudies could compete for roster spots. But still, victory! Let not honesty get in the way of a technicality.
These are just samples from the buffet of facts that World Wrestling Entertainment provides for me, you, and its millions of other viewers on a weekly basis so that we understand just how great they are. Sure, they could just, I don’t know, provide a compelling product with quality writing and performance, but this cinches it. Every week, if you have even the tiniest doubt that the wrestling show you’re watching is leaving you sterile and unfulfilled, then just wait for the “Did You Know?” factoid. It’s all of the reassurance you’re going to need.
I myself have been a fan since 1989. Yes, for twenty years, I’ve been an avid follower of World Wrestling Entertainment, being a privy to many classic moments. I could rattle off my wonderful memories such as Randy Savage being bitten by a snake, Roddy Piper painting half of his body black to intimidate Bad News Brown, The Undertaker dying and then levitating toward heaven after a soliloquy, Brian Pillman using a firearm to ward off Steve Austin, Mark Henry fondling a transvestite, a militant Black Panthers-esque army like The Nation of Domination spreading fear, Dawn Marie killing her elderly husband with pulse-pounding sex, Kane allegedly consummating love with a dead body, a terror cell attacking The Undertaker with piano wire, and Vince McMahon dying in a limousine explosion. And as you and I clamor for more priceless treasures to be broadcast over our HD TV sets, the WWE feels insecure. They don’t want to lose our loyalty, hence the “Did You Know?” spots.
I think I speak for all of us when I say this: as long as WWE continues to win in the Nielsen ratings over TV shows that most of us have never considered watching, then Vince McMahon will still get our top dollar.
But should Gossip Girl surge ahead on ratings points, I may have to alter my viewing habits.
Until then, never fear, Vince. I'll still watch that "crap".
(Credit to thehistoryofwwe.com for their transcription of WWE’s Did You Know facts.)
When he isn’t watching WWE, TNA, or his beloved Philadelphia Eagles and Phillies, Justin Henry can be found writing. It is his passion as well as his goal in life to become a well-regarded (as well as well-paid) columnist or author. He tweets at twitter.com/notoriousjrh and facebooks himself athttp://www.facebook.com/notoriousjrh.
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