Day 5 - Are We There Yet?
There is a distinct tendency by the Friday of Super Bowl week to stop, look around and think 'Isn't it game time yet?'
Virtually every story angle has been exhausted (apart from the one whereby one of the players gets arrested for something suitably outlandish or tawdry on the Saturday night, or just goes AWOL), the last press conferences have been given, nearly all the fans are in town ready for a serious party, and the UK media has filed its last pre-game story (due to the time difference and Sunday newspapers needing their non-soccer copy by Friday morning).
It means we have entered the Twilight Zone of Super Bowl coverage; a realm betwixt and between; neither still an ongoing, 'live' event (until the first ball is kicked), nor anything you can ignore totally in case the aforementioned bizarre Saturday night incident happens early and everyone has to re-write their stories.
Therefore we are 'in residence' at the Media Center but not paying full attention (partly because we've had another early start to the day and partly because the two main conferences featuring the head coaches are, by now, producing the exact same words we have already heard half a gazillion times this week. They are just in a different order. The amazing thing is that both Mike Tomlin and Ken Whisenhunt can stand there and respond with a calm, straight face when, really, you'd think they would want to pound the podium with a fist and scream 'You've already asked me that question, 2,000 times, in 2,000 different ways and got the same answer every time! What makes you think I'm going to change it now?!').
We've also had another great escapade with the ever-changing local law enforcment restrictions on the various roads around the Convention Center. Today, Franklin Street has been cordoned off just south of the Center, completely ruining any chance of being able to retrace your steps if (and when) you are directed the wrong way by one of their very bored traffic officers. Our car park of choice is also inaccessible from one side of the road (due to an incredible outbreak of cones), so we must go further afield in search of a spot for our vehicular transportation. We end up at Channelside, about half a mile away. Happily, parking here seems to be free today, much to our pleasant surprise.
Ken Whisenhunt is asked (not for the first time) about "how well prepared" his team is at this stage, as if he is going to turn round and say "Actually, we have pretty much goofed off all week and I haven't been thinking about the game. We're just here for the party." But someone has to ask something, otherwise we're reduced to interviewing each other (again - the local Tampa Tribune was quizzing foreign journos on Tuesday night about how we enjoyed this city compared to other Bowl venues, and we were all suitably complimentary, unbearable suck-ups that we are).
Fortunately, there are a few other events which provide a reasonable diversion while we wait for the clock to tick down to the time that precludes any possible further addition to our newspapers for the Saturday edition (thanks to the 5-hour time difference).
I manage to look into the Pro Football Writers Association meeting, and then join the majority of the press throng for The Commish, the annual 'state of the gridiron nation' statement and Q&A with the impressively smooth Roger Goodell (although I wish I could tie his arms to his sides, as he tends to 'talk' so much with the use of his hands, a la George W, that it quickly becomes a huge distraction watching his arms waving around).
There is still time afterwards to amend a few final facts for my News of the World story (Facts? in a News of the World story? What am I thinking?) and spend some time in the writing room working on one of these blogs, which I have allowed to slide on the Thursday due to the hectic nature of that particular day.
And that brings us to Friday afternoon, and the de facto end of our pre-game hoopla. There is nothing that can now be added for the UK papers (unless either Kurt Warner or Anquan Boldin drops dead, which would slightly spoil my NotW story), so it only remains to head out into the real Super Bowl world, that of the growing army of fans, and witness first-hand how it is shaping up.
The answer, if you are the Cardinals, is not good. We do, eventually, spot some Arizona jerseys, but the Convention Center and Channelside areas are swarming with Steelers, so it could be a bit lonely for Kurt Warner and Co inside Raymond James Stadium. Pittsburgh fans are always ready to come out in support of their team at the drop of a hat, but this is a pretty impressive turnout all the same.
It does beg the question, does Arizona actully realize its team is playing in a faily important game on Sunday?
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Friday, January 30, 2009
Day 4 - The Boss Bowl
The time and date of 2.30pm on Thursday has been in many people's diaries since the beginning of the week (in fact, it has been highlighted since the official schedule was published about two weeks ago. Good planning, you see!).
It's all very well interviewing the players and seeing the shameless ligging going on in Radio Row and elsewhere in the Media Center (as various NFL ceklebrities come and go with the ebb and flow of an increasingly hectic program), but a genuine press conference Event is hard to find.
Yes, there is the annual address by The Commish, but that is pretty much expected these days, even if it was a relatively recent creation of previous incumbent Paul Tagliabue. And Media Day can be fun in a freeform, lunatic kind of way.
But the half-time show press conference has rapidly become one of THE must-attend moments of the whole week-long media frenzy. They can vary from anodyne to embarrassing, but there is usually a freak-show element to the occasion which has become compulsive viewing, especially as it also draws the full range of journalistic types.
The story of media Thursday is not all about one press conference, though, as much as we like to make it seem as if that is the case. No, there is real work involved (just in case anyone is under the impression this is one long football-themed party). Writing for the UK media (primarily The London Sun, News of the World and SkySports.com) involves several small stories during the week (the team arrivals, Hines Ward's famous knee, Darnell Dockett's 'I forgive my mom's killer' moment), plus three fairly lengthy pieces, one for each main media source. And Thursday is the key day for weekend copy.
Therefore, much of the morning is spent in a writing frenzy in the Working Room of the Media Center (once Nick and I have again been able to negotiate the increasingly baffling array of new daily traffic-flow restrictions in the surrounding streets; seriously, it's like the police are playing a game with motorists by saying each day, 'OK, what road shall we cordon off today to really throw the buggers off the trail?' Or something similar).
This is not helped by the WiFi service doing its own impression of The Vanishing. One minute it's there; the next, a whole bunch of journos are left staring dumbly at screens which read 'User ID not recognised. Fool.' I'm not kidding. Cyberspace is openly mocking us - the revenge of the IT nerds. There is metaphorical smoke coming out of various keyboards and repeatedly hitting the 'Return' key doesn't relieve the frustration much.
But I do eventually get a full preview filed for SkySports.com, a page lead sent over to The Sun (which inevitably gets crunched down to just a dozen pars or so) and rough out an idea for the News of the World (based on the Anquan Boldin facial injury he suffered earlier this season - you see, with the UK media, it's not so much a case of coming up with an unusual or original line so much as recapping the most gruesome or unlikely story of the season!).
That just leaves time for a bite of lunch (a bag of chips and an apple I remembered to bring with me - food tends to be a bit of an optional extra on busy days), and then it's off for the pre-Game and Half-Time Show press conferences.
The first is already in full swing, and John Legend and Faith Hill seem a bit non-plussed at trying to explain their involvement; John, it turns out, is a "big football fan" while Faith has "learned to enjoy it thanks to my husband." Both will be pulling for the Cardinals in a growing ground-swell of support for the underdogs.
This rather limp offering finally wraps up around 2.20pm, and the media throng visibly swells at the scheduled 2.30pm arrival of The Main Event, the man himself, The Boss, the leader of the E-Street Band, aka Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen, Esq.
The hubbub of anticipation is absolutely palpable; the media are not supposed to be starry-eyed at the prospect of a meeting with rock royalty, but this comes pretty close. Nick and I guess-timate the crowd at 500-plus and there is hardly an empty chair to be seen in this rather cavernous hall (a curtained-off area of one of the bigger exhibition halls at the Tampa Convention Center).
2.30 arrives and passes by; as does 2.40 and 2.45. Eventually, after a suitably-concert-late delay of 20-plus minutes, one corner of the hall becomes a mini-volcano of activity and Bruce and the 7 members of the band troop on. This is pure press conference drama, and it is excitement all the way with this one.
Bruce quips "If there are a lot of questions about football, this is going to be the shortest press conference on record!" And we are off and running for 30 minutes of wonderful theatre and good humor. Informed it will be a Q&A session with the media, the Boss also joked: "Is there anyone from New Jersey?" Of course, plenty of journos indicate in the affirmative. "Don't give them the microphone," is his instant comeback.
And so it continued, with Bruce holding center court but affording band members like Nils Lofgren, Steve Van Zandt and Clarence Clemons a turn with the mike. We learned Bruce is not a football fan; he loves their last three albums; he always considered the half-time show a "novelty event" in the past; and they have their "mercenary reasons" for finally agreeing to play the show this year ("Hey, we have a new album out, dummy!").
It is all good knockabout stuff; Bruce looks in prime form, with those famous vocal chords sounding as good as ever and ready to rock 'n roll once more. We weren't sure whether to applaud or hold up cigarette lighters.
The conclusion of the conference sends various assorted journos scurrying for their phones and lap-tops (including this one). To me, it sounds like a great little story for the entertainment pages of The Sun, and the sports desk agrees. I file 12 pars. None make the paper. Ho hum - a writer's lot can be a cruel one at times.
But there's no time to feel sorry for oneself. There is the nightly return drive to Orlando to be tackled (in pouring-down rain; somehow, the early-week forecast of 84 and sunny has turned into 68 and a mini-monsoon. We are not happy bunnies as the journey takes almost twice as long as normal).
And there is still work to tackle once home again; a 16-par story for the News of the World and another blog for SportsMania. Once again, it is gone midnight before I can turn in, and we have another 7am start tomorrow.
See, not ALL fun and games, is it?
The time and date of 2.30pm on Thursday has been in many people's diaries since the beginning of the week (in fact, it has been highlighted since the official schedule was published about two weeks ago. Good planning, you see!).
It's all very well interviewing the players and seeing the shameless ligging going on in Radio Row and elsewhere in the Media Center (as various NFL ceklebrities come and go with the ebb and flow of an increasingly hectic program), but a genuine press conference Event is hard to find.
Yes, there is the annual address by The Commish, but that is pretty much expected these days, even if it was a relatively recent creation of previous incumbent Paul Tagliabue. And Media Day can be fun in a freeform, lunatic kind of way.
But the half-time show press conference has rapidly become one of THE must-attend moments of the whole week-long media frenzy. They can vary from anodyne to embarrassing, but there is usually a freak-show element to the occasion which has become compulsive viewing, especially as it also draws the full range of journalistic types.
The story of media Thursday is not all about one press conference, though, as much as we like to make it seem as if that is the case. No, there is real work involved (just in case anyone is under the impression this is one long football-themed party). Writing for the UK media (primarily The London Sun, News of the World and SkySports.com) involves several small stories during the week (the team arrivals, Hines Ward's famous knee, Darnell Dockett's 'I forgive my mom's killer' moment), plus three fairly lengthy pieces, one for each main media source. And Thursday is the key day for weekend copy.
Therefore, much of the morning is spent in a writing frenzy in the Working Room of the Media Center (once Nick and I have again been able to negotiate the increasingly baffling array of new daily traffic-flow restrictions in the surrounding streets; seriously, it's like the police are playing a game with motorists by saying each day, 'OK, what road shall we cordon off today to really throw the buggers off the trail?' Or something similar).
This is not helped by the WiFi service doing its own impression of The Vanishing. One minute it's there; the next, a whole bunch of journos are left staring dumbly at screens which read 'User ID not recognised. Fool.' I'm not kidding. Cyberspace is openly mocking us - the revenge of the IT nerds. There is metaphorical smoke coming out of various keyboards and repeatedly hitting the 'Return' key doesn't relieve the frustration much.
But I do eventually get a full preview filed for SkySports.com, a page lead sent over to The Sun (which inevitably gets crunched down to just a dozen pars or so) and rough out an idea for the News of the World (based on the Anquan Boldin facial injury he suffered earlier this season - you see, with the UK media, it's not so much a case of coming up with an unusual or original line so much as recapping the most gruesome or unlikely story of the season!).
That just leaves time for a bite of lunch (a bag of chips and an apple I remembered to bring with me - food tends to be a bit of an optional extra on busy days), and then it's off for the pre-Game and Half-Time Show press conferences.
The first is already in full swing, and John Legend and Faith Hill seem a bit non-plussed at trying to explain their involvement; John, it turns out, is a "big football fan" while Faith has "learned to enjoy it thanks to my husband." Both will be pulling for the Cardinals in a growing ground-swell of support for the underdogs.
This rather limp offering finally wraps up around 2.20pm, and the media throng visibly swells at the scheduled 2.30pm arrival of The Main Event, the man himself, The Boss, the leader of the E-Street Band, aka Bruce Frederick Joseph Springsteen, Esq.
The hubbub of anticipation is absolutely palpable; the media are not supposed to be starry-eyed at the prospect of a meeting with rock royalty, but this comes pretty close. Nick and I guess-timate the crowd at 500-plus and there is hardly an empty chair to be seen in this rather cavernous hall (a curtained-off area of one of the bigger exhibition halls at the Tampa Convention Center).
2.30 arrives and passes by; as does 2.40 and 2.45. Eventually, after a suitably-concert-late delay of 20-plus minutes, one corner of the hall becomes a mini-volcano of activity and Bruce and the 7 members of the band troop on. This is pure press conference drama, and it is excitement all the way with this one.
Bruce quips "If there are a lot of questions about football, this is going to be the shortest press conference on record!" And we are off and running for 30 minutes of wonderful theatre and good humor. Informed it will be a Q&A session with the media, the Boss also joked: "Is there anyone from New Jersey?" Of course, plenty of journos indicate in the affirmative. "Don't give them the microphone," is his instant comeback.
And so it continued, with Bruce holding center court but affording band members like Nils Lofgren, Steve Van Zandt and Clarence Clemons a turn with the mike. We learned Bruce is not a football fan; he loves their last three albums; he always considered the half-time show a "novelty event" in the past; and they have their "mercenary reasons" for finally agreeing to play the show this year ("Hey, we have a new album out, dummy!").
It is all good knockabout stuff; Bruce looks in prime form, with those famous vocal chords sounding as good as ever and ready to rock 'n roll once more. We weren't sure whether to applaud or hold up cigarette lighters.
The conclusion of the conference sends various assorted journos scurrying for their phones and lap-tops (including this one). To me, it sounds like a great little story for the entertainment pages of The Sun, and the sports desk agrees. I file 12 pars. None make the paper. Ho hum - a writer's lot can be a cruel one at times.
But there's no time to feel sorry for oneself. There is the nightly return drive to Orlando to be tackled (in pouring-down rain; somehow, the early-week forecast of 84 and sunny has turned into 68 and a mini-monsoon. We are not happy bunnies as the journey takes almost twice as long as normal).
And there is still work to tackle once home again; a 16-par story for the News of the World and another blog for SportsMania. Once again, it is gone midnight before I can turn in, and we have another 7am start tomorrow.
See, not ALL fun and games, is it?
Day 3 - The University Perspective
The Super Bowl is a genuine smorgasbord of opportunity for sports-writers. There is SO much to cover, you can pick and choose the events and occasions that best suit your working brief, and schedule your day accordingly.
With up to 18 officially scheduled media events a day, it is impossible to cover them all; the smorgasbord would become an exercise in pure gluttony (with the indigestion to match), hence the need to be selective.
And following the excesses of Media Day, it is far more important to pick up on a strand, theme or player that most aptly fits the bill for a follow-up or additional story-line.
Therefore Nick Szczepanik (a fellow journalist from The Times in the UK and my constant traveling companion this week) and I decide the Steelers will be our most likely source of valuable follow-up material on the Wednesday.
This requires the daily drive down I-4 from Orlando (the cheapest hotel rate of all, seeing as it's my home for large parts of the year!) but, in this case, instead of having to negotiate the last few traffic-choked miles of the highway, we can turn off along I-75 for the University of South Florida (just don't try to be geographic about this, seeing as south Florida is actually some 200 miles further in a southerly direction).
The USF campus is the working home this week of the Pittsburgh Steelers, and there are some indications in Journoville that the AFC representatives have been given the short end of the stick as regards facilities (seeing as the Cardinals get to use the ultra-smart Buccaneers practice ground).
You'll certainly hear no such grouching from the Steelers or any of their coaches, but it certainly does seem a more spartan set-up than most NFL teams will be used to. Just to start with, driving in to the campus provides little - if any - evidence that there is a major event on the premises.
Nick and I searched in hope, but any signposts to the Steelers' presence were sadly lacking. Having driven into one parking lot where, clearly, visiting international journalists were not intended to be (students gazed at our frantic navigations with a mixture of incredulity and mild amusement), we needed to extricate ourselves in a hurry lest we incur the wrath of the local parking tzar. While signage of any kind of NFL activity was decidedly deficient, the insistence on proper parking permits was omni-present.
Trying to be logical, we followed the only signs we could find for the athletic facilities and, very soon, the indoor Sun Dome stadium hove into view. Anything vaguely Pittsburghian remained elusive, and an enquiry of an elderly gent in a green jacket at the back of the parking lot (well, he looked official from a distance) elicited only more blank looks.
A phalanx of idling motorcycle police gave more hope of a pointer in the right direction and, sure enough, we were pointed in the direction of the Sun Dome itself, despite its general lack of any encouraging journalistic signs.
However, by the time we had parked (looking around carefully for those parking permit signs), a steady trickle of similarly half-bewildered, accreditation-bedecked individuals had started to appear, moving in the direction of the sign that proudly proclaimed 'Media Entrance.'
Only not today.
Oh no. The entrance for the media was ALL the way round the other side (like, around a 270-degree journey from our present spot). Ho hum, and off we trek.
Dodging the traffic on a non-sidewalk section of road, we did eventually find our way to the appointed entryway, and here the gathering of all things media-like was well under way.
The stark difference from the Cardinals' base of the Grand Hyatt Tampa Bay was immediately evident. No plush hotel surroundings for these blue collar Steelers - instead, much of the court area of the Sun Dome was curtained off into a press hall with podium and a secondary area with tables and mini-podiums.
Mike Tomlin and Ben Roethlisberger are first up, doing their thing for the massed ranks of the media in (another) extended Q&A. Tomlin remains intently focused on the end product of all this week's vast hype and hoopla, while his quarterback is giving the impression he is definitely ready for the game. He answers everything perfectly politely, but you sense he would rather be having root canal work rather fielding yet another question on Anquan Boldin's sideline hoo-ha during the NFC Championship game.
With that part of the session suitably concluded, it is the turn of the other 50-odd players to shamble into the other part of the hall and take up positions either at the circular tables or on the mini-podiums. Troy Polamalu, James Harrison, LaMarr Woodley, Santonio Holmes and Hines Ward all all 'podium guys' again today. The rest are either in listless repose at the tables or wandering in small groups, idly glancing at their watches to see when they can get out to practice.
It's a good chance to get some one-on-one questions, though, with almost everyone (if you're patient enough), as you're not required to be quite so telepathic with the timing of your question-asking. The players are in closer proximity and all seem happy to take these face-to-face moments with due care and courtesy.
Polamalu and Ward draw the biggest crowds, but even those fluctuate and dwindle at different times in the half-hour session, allowing me to ask the soft-spoken Samoan what he'd really like to do if he sees Larry Fitzgerald coming over the middle in his direction on Sunday (the answer, of course, is far more circumspect than the question, as Troy insists the defence's hard-hitting characteristics are purely a team ethos and nothing personal. I would certainly want written proof of that before I ever crossed the white lines with these guys, though).
I ask similar posers of Woodley and Harrison, and then notice bleach-haired kicker Jeff Reed sitting almost on his lonesome, so I manage a short conversation on the mentality of a kicker's lot with him.
Finally, with the session drawing to a close, I decide the rather large form of No 77 is worth tackling, as he looks distinctly forlorn on the fringe of this mini-melee. And with good cause. Pittsburgh residents will immediately have noted the inhabitant of this jersey as being Marvel Smith, officially relegated to Injured Reserve on December 3 with back problems and therefore a non-combatant on Sunday.
But the nine-year left tackle is still happy to chat and turns out to be a truly charming and insightful conversationalists, discussing his approach to Super Bowl XL and how he genuinely managed to treat it as "just another game," something I had always suspected professional sportsmen in general of telling massive porky pies about. He is a big fan of coach Tomlin and is still hoping to pass on some of his veteran savvy to younger team-mates prior to the game.
Somehow, Super Bowl XLIII will seem just a little poorer for his non-participation.
The Super Bowl is a genuine smorgasbord of opportunity for sports-writers. There is SO much to cover, you can pick and choose the events and occasions that best suit your working brief, and schedule your day accordingly.
With up to 18 officially scheduled media events a day, it is impossible to cover them all; the smorgasbord would become an exercise in pure gluttony (with the indigestion to match), hence the need to be selective.
And following the excesses of Media Day, it is far more important to pick up on a strand, theme or player that most aptly fits the bill for a follow-up or additional story-line.
Therefore Nick Szczepanik (a fellow journalist from The Times in the UK and my constant traveling companion this week) and I decide the Steelers will be our most likely source of valuable follow-up material on the Wednesday.
This requires the daily drive down I-4 from Orlando (the cheapest hotel rate of all, seeing as it's my home for large parts of the year!) but, in this case, instead of having to negotiate the last few traffic-choked miles of the highway, we can turn off along I-75 for the University of South Florida (just don't try to be geographic about this, seeing as south Florida is actually some 200 miles further in a southerly direction).
The USF campus is the working home this week of the Pittsburgh Steelers, and there are some indications in Journoville that the AFC representatives have been given the short end of the stick as regards facilities (seeing as the Cardinals get to use the ultra-smart Buccaneers practice ground).
You'll certainly hear no such grouching from the Steelers or any of their coaches, but it certainly does seem a more spartan set-up than most NFL teams will be used to. Just to start with, driving in to the campus provides little - if any - evidence that there is a major event on the premises.
Nick and I searched in hope, but any signposts to the Steelers' presence were sadly lacking. Having driven into one parking lot where, clearly, visiting international journalists were not intended to be (students gazed at our frantic navigations with a mixture of incredulity and mild amusement), we needed to extricate ourselves in a hurry lest we incur the wrath of the local parking tzar. While signage of any kind of NFL activity was decidedly deficient, the insistence on proper parking permits was omni-present.
Trying to be logical, we followed the only signs we could find for the athletic facilities and, very soon, the indoor Sun Dome stadium hove into view. Anything vaguely Pittsburghian remained elusive, and an enquiry of an elderly gent in a green jacket at the back of the parking lot (well, he looked official from a distance) elicited only more blank looks.
A phalanx of idling motorcycle police gave more hope of a pointer in the right direction and, sure enough, we were pointed in the direction of the Sun Dome itself, despite its general lack of any encouraging journalistic signs.
However, by the time we had parked (looking around carefully for those parking permit signs), a steady trickle of similarly half-bewildered, accreditation-bedecked individuals had started to appear, moving in the direction of the sign that proudly proclaimed 'Media Entrance.'
Only not today.
Oh no. The entrance for the media was ALL the way round the other side (like, around a 270-degree journey from our present spot). Ho hum, and off we trek.
Dodging the traffic on a non-sidewalk section of road, we did eventually find our way to the appointed entryway, and here the gathering of all things media-like was well under way.
The stark difference from the Cardinals' base of the Grand Hyatt Tampa Bay was immediately evident. No plush hotel surroundings for these blue collar Steelers - instead, much of the court area of the Sun Dome was curtained off into a press hall with podium and a secondary area with tables and mini-podiums.
Mike Tomlin and Ben Roethlisberger are first up, doing their thing for the massed ranks of the media in (another) extended Q&A. Tomlin remains intently focused on the end product of all this week's vast hype and hoopla, while his quarterback is giving the impression he is definitely ready for the game. He answers everything perfectly politely, but you sense he would rather be having root canal work rather fielding yet another question on Anquan Boldin's sideline hoo-ha during the NFC Championship game.
With that part of the session suitably concluded, it is the turn of the other 50-odd players to shamble into the other part of the hall and take up positions either at the circular tables or on the mini-podiums. Troy Polamalu, James Harrison, LaMarr Woodley, Santonio Holmes and Hines Ward all all 'podium guys' again today. The rest are either in listless repose at the tables or wandering in small groups, idly glancing at their watches to see when they can get out to practice.
It's a good chance to get some one-on-one questions, though, with almost everyone (if you're patient enough), as you're not required to be quite so telepathic with the timing of your question-asking. The players are in closer proximity and all seem happy to take these face-to-face moments with due care and courtesy.
Polamalu and Ward draw the biggest crowds, but even those fluctuate and dwindle at different times in the half-hour session, allowing me to ask the soft-spoken Samoan what he'd really like to do if he sees Larry Fitzgerald coming over the middle in his direction on Sunday (the answer, of course, is far more circumspect than the question, as Troy insists the defence's hard-hitting characteristics are purely a team ethos and nothing personal. I would certainly want written proof of that before I ever crossed the white lines with these guys, though).
I ask similar posers of Woodley and Harrison, and then notice bleach-haired kicker Jeff Reed sitting almost on his lonesome, so I manage a short conversation on the mentality of a kicker's lot with him.
Finally, with the session drawing to a close, I decide the rather large form of No 77 is worth tackling, as he looks distinctly forlorn on the fringe of this mini-melee. And with good cause. Pittsburgh residents will immediately have noted the inhabitant of this jersey as being Marvel Smith, officially relegated to Injured Reserve on December 3 with back problems and therefore a non-combatant on Sunday.
But the nine-year left tackle is still happy to chat and turns out to be a truly charming and insightful conversationalists, discussing his approach to Super Bowl XL and how he genuinely managed to treat it as "just another game," something I had always suspected professional sportsmen in general of telling massive porky pies about. He is a big fan of coach Tomlin and is still hoping to pass on some of his veteran savvy to younger team-mates prior to the game.
Somehow, Super Bowl XLIII will seem just a little poorer for his non-participation.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Day 2 - Is This For Real?
You know this is not an ordinary day in Journalist-land when your working environment includes:
A cross-dressing Telemundo reporter
Two ballroom dancers
The highly camp Ross The Intern (from the Jay Leno show)
Some guy with a violin
A lightly-dressed (female) Telemundo reporter
An AMC News correspondent (as in American Movie Classics)
Los Angeles DJ Vic 'The Brick' Jacobs in a Davy Crockett hat (in near-80-degree temperatures)
And a 10-year-old girl with a microphone that most players have to stoop to talk to
Yes, it is the annual absurdity and anything-goes attitude of Media Day at a Super Bowl - a ritual that is in danger of becoming a parody of itself in the eyes of many.
Fortunately, the day finished in rather more memorable style with a concert by .38 Special at the Cuba Club in Ybor City (from which my ears are still ringing in the style of the 'Beep! Beep! Beep!' noise you get from a reversing truck).
To start with, just to gain access to this journalistic farrago, it is necessary to join one of a squadron of white buses that move en masse across the city of Tampa from the Convention (Media) Center to Raymond James Stadium. Our bus had all of six reporters on, which might, you felt, have been a slight environmental faux pas (mind you, on the way back, it was packed to the gun'nels, so the balance was slightly redressed).
Then there is Security (definitely with a capital 'S' these days). While our bags are put in a screened off area to be sniffed by a very wag-tailed black labrador (presumably for explosives, as it's hard to imagine anyone bringing food to the mid-morning all-you-can-eat buffet - "A cream-cheese bagel, sir? I'm sorry we can't be having you bringing in anything as offensive as that"), a long stream of this multi-faceted media troops desultorily through the electric scanners (after a fairly desultory personal pat-down from a less-than-enthusiastic screener). Needless to say, none of my heavy belt buckle, watch or copper wristband set off the scanner at all.
Once we are deemed 'safe' to enter the 'green' area within, it is off to the inner concourse of the stadium to await the appointed hour of 10am when the Arizona Cardinals will be available to all the 4,000 or so members of the media corps (cross-dressers included).
It's time - and the rush commences, down the stairs to the side of the field, where various podiums are set up for the 'name' stars of each team while the majority are left to wander the increasingly hectic throng by themselves (some of the Steelers later found a better idea, sitting in small groups in the lower bleachers and calling out wise-cracks to their team-mates in the interview spotlight below).
Now it soon becomes clear that 4,000 into Sideline Space won't go. At least not without a fair bit of pushing and shoving, standing still, inching sideways, tripping over a gazillion cables and gawking at the aformentioned 'oddballs' in the gathering (which included Telemundo reporter Joel Bengoa in a bright red sundress, for reasons known only to himself and, presumably, every Telemundo viewer tonight; 10-year-old Shelby Fallin of Scholastic News; Entertainment Tonight dancer Renee Sapp, playing host in a bizarre 'dance' competition; and the almost-dressed Mireya Grisales, also of Telemundo. What, the Hooters girls were busy?).
The challenge here is to maneuver from one end to the other in the allotted 60 minutes AND try to get in a meaningful question or two. It requires patience, cunning, wit - and an ability to elbow the person next to you in the solar plexus so you can get your question in first. In fact, telepathy is essential here; you need to know the exact split second a player finishes his answer to the previous question so you can launch into yours. Any hesitation is fatal and leaves you fumbling helplessly for words (and, occasionally, teeth).
More than anything, it's a chance to gauge the mood of the protagonists. No Super Bowl was ever won on Media Day, but you can gain some interesting insight into the various mind-sets (notably from three years ago, when the Steelers seemed far more assured than the Seahawks, and that carried over on to the field). It's relevant here this year with Pittsburgh being the 'veteran' Super Bowl team and Arizona the relative novices.
So, some quick notes on the vibes being issued this year (Arizona first) - Edgerrin James looking like he was born for the spotlight here; Karlos Dansby far more earnest and thoughtful; Adrian Wilson doing his best uber-cool Deion Sanders persona; Anquan Boldin laughing and joking it all up; and, at the center of the biggest media scrimmage, Kurt Warner, the 37-year-old who's best days looked to be firmly in the rear-view mirror until this extraordinary season, happily fielding questions on just about every subject under the sun, and with the various journos having to shout their questions in machine-gun style in a bid to be heard.
Then the Steelers - big Ben Roethlisberger the ultimate laid-back dude, letting it all flow over him; defensive kingpins James Harrison, LaMarr Woodley, James Farrior and Troy Polamalu relaxed (and menacing); Hines Ward doing what Hines Ward does best off the field, laugh and joke (and insist he WILL play on Sunday); and head coach Mike Tomlin drawing the biggest media crowd for a more serious discussion, every question carefully considered and given firm, positive response. It is hard to imagine this man overlooking a thing as his driven, sharply-focused nature shines through with laser-beam intensity. Arizona's Ken Whisenhunt is an admirable coach, but I'm glad I'm not going up against Tomlin and his coaching staff - you'd feel naked by the end of it, I imagine.
Thankfully, the two hours (interspersed by the buffet free-for-all) pass quickly and without any real incident. Certainly, there are no signs of anything vaguely aporximating a 'story.' Both teams are complimentary about each other; no, the Steelers don't feel the Cards are underdogs; yes, say Arizona, Pittsburgh deserve to be favorites. All calm, polite, considered stuff, and utterly anodyne.
The evening party in Ybor City is a free-for-all of a different variety, with free food and drink spread out over two floors inside and the massive courtyard outside. Salsa dancers, cigar-rollers (and free cigars for those who indulge in the practice of stinking up the planet with their noxious fumes), a 10-piece Cuban band and a manic DJ are all part of the festivities.
And the outdoor party is highlighted by a 90-minute set from perennial rockers .38 Special with their 80s sound that includes everyone from Lynyrd Skynryd to Kansas, via Boston, Molly Hatchet and many others. Great fun and hugely enjoyable.
The long drive back to Orlando passes without incident and there is just time to pen the day's blog (at 1am) before setting the alarm ready for another day of interview fun and frolics at the two team hotels on the morrow.
Toodle pip........!
You know this is not an ordinary day in Journalist-land when your working environment includes:
A cross-dressing Telemundo reporter
Two ballroom dancers
The highly camp Ross The Intern (from the Jay Leno show)
Some guy with a violin
A lightly-dressed (female) Telemundo reporter
An AMC News correspondent (as in American Movie Classics)
Los Angeles DJ Vic 'The Brick' Jacobs in a Davy Crockett hat (in near-80-degree temperatures)
And a 10-year-old girl with a microphone that most players have to stoop to talk to
Yes, it is the annual absurdity and anything-goes attitude of Media Day at a Super Bowl - a ritual that is in danger of becoming a parody of itself in the eyes of many.
Fortunately, the day finished in rather more memorable style with a concert by .38 Special at the Cuba Club in Ybor City (from which my ears are still ringing in the style of the 'Beep! Beep! Beep!' noise you get from a reversing truck).
To start with, just to gain access to this journalistic farrago, it is necessary to join one of a squadron of white buses that move en masse across the city of Tampa from the Convention (Media) Center to Raymond James Stadium. Our bus had all of six reporters on, which might, you felt, have been a slight environmental faux pas (mind you, on the way back, it was packed to the gun'nels, so the balance was slightly redressed).
Then there is Security (definitely with a capital 'S' these days). While our bags are put in a screened off area to be sniffed by a very wag-tailed black labrador (presumably for explosives, as it's hard to imagine anyone bringing food to the mid-morning all-you-can-eat buffet - "A cream-cheese bagel, sir? I'm sorry we can't be having you bringing in anything as offensive as that"), a long stream of this multi-faceted media troops desultorily through the electric scanners (after a fairly desultory personal pat-down from a less-than-enthusiastic screener). Needless to say, none of my heavy belt buckle, watch or copper wristband set off the scanner at all.
Once we are deemed 'safe' to enter the 'green' area within, it is off to the inner concourse of the stadium to await the appointed hour of 10am when the Arizona Cardinals will be available to all the 4,000 or so members of the media corps (cross-dressers included).
It's time - and the rush commences, down the stairs to the side of the field, where various podiums are set up for the 'name' stars of each team while the majority are left to wander the increasingly hectic throng by themselves (some of the Steelers later found a better idea, sitting in small groups in the lower bleachers and calling out wise-cracks to their team-mates in the interview spotlight below).
Now it soon becomes clear that 4,000 into Sideline Space won't go. At least not without a fair bit of pushing and shoving, standing still, inching sideways, tripping over a gazillion cables and gawking at the aformentioned 'oddballs' in the gathering (which included Telemundo reporter Joel Bengoa in a bright red sundress, for reasons known only to himself and, presumably, every Telemundo viewer tonight; 10-year-old Shelby Fallin of Scholastic News; Entertainment Tonight dancer Renee Sapp, playing host in a bizarre 'dance' competition; and the almost-dressed Mireya Grisales, also of Telemundo. What, the Hooters girls were busy?).
The challenge here is to maneuver from one end to the other in the allotted 60 minutes AND try to get in a meaningful question or two. It requires patience, cunning, wit - and an ability to elbow the person next to you in the solar plexus so you can get your question in first. In fact, telepathy is essential here; you need to know the exact split second a player finishes his answer to the previous question so you can launch into yours. Any hesitation is fatal and leaves you fumbling helplessly for words (and, occasionally, teeth).
More than anything, it's a chance to gauge the mood of the protagonists. No Super Bowl was ever won on Media Day, but you can gain some interesting insight into the various mind-sets (notably from three years ago, when the Steelers seemed far more assured than the Seahawks, and that carried over on to the field). It's relevant here this year with Pittsburgh being the 'veteran' Super Bowl team and Arizona the relative novices.
So, some quick notes on the vibes being issued this year (Arizona first) - Edgerrin James looking like he was born for the spotlight here; Karlos Dansby far more earnest and thoughtful; Adrian Wilson doing his best uber-cool Deion Sanders persona; Anquan Boldin laughing and joking it all up; and, at the center of the biggest media scrimmage, Kurt Warner, the 37-year-old who's best days looked to be firmly in the rear-view mirror until this extraordinary season, happily fielding questions on just about every subject under the sun, and with the various journos having to shout their questions in machine-gun style in a bid to be heard.
Then the Steelers - big Ben Roethlisberger the ultimate laid-back dude, letting it all flow over him; defensive kingpins James Harrison, LaMarr Woodley, James Farrior and Troy Polamalu relaxed (and menacing); Hines Ward doing what Hines Ward does best off the field, laugh and joke (and insist he WILL play on Sunday); and head coach Mike Tomlin drawing the biggest media crowd for a more serious discussion, every question carefully considered and given firm, positive response. It is hard to imagine this man overlooking a thing as his driven, sharply-focused nature shines through with laser-beam intensity. Arizona's Ken Whisenhunt is an admirable coach, but I'm glad I'm not going up against Tomlin and his coaching staff - you'd feel naked by the end of it, I imagine.
Thankfully, the two hours (interspersed by the buffet free-for-all) pass quickly and without any real incident. Certainly, there are no signs of anything vaguely aporximating a 'story.' Both teams are complimentary about each other; no, the Steelers don't feel the Cards are underdogs; yes, say Arizona, Pittsburgh deserve to be favorites. All calm, polite, considered stuff, and utterly anodyne.
The evening party in Ybor City is a free-for-all of a different variety, with free food and drink spread out over two floors inside and the massive courtyard outside. Salsa dancers, cigar-rollers (and free cigars for those who indulge in the practice of stinking up the planet with their noxious fumes), a 10-piece Cuban band and a manic DJ are all part of the festivities.
And the outdoor party is highlighted by a 90-minute set from perennial rockers .38 Special with their 80s sound that includes everyone from Lynyrd Skynryd to Kansas, via Boston, Molly Hatchet and many others. Great fun and hugely enjoyable.
The long drive back to Orlando passes without incident and there is just time to pen the day's blog (at 1am) before setting the alarm ready for another day of interview fun and frolics at the two team hotels on the morrow.
Toodle pip........!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Day 1 - The Phoney War
The Monday of Super Bowl week is pretty much the day when Not Very Much Happens but we try to pretend that it has.
Most of the 4,000 or so accredited media will arrive on Monday and will still be getting their bearings; which way to the Media Center, where is the Stadium, how many Starbucks are there nearby and why are there no free bags?
The occasionally painful process of getting your official Week of Game media accreditation has to be endured (and there is a separate one for Game Day), as everyone lines up and hopes their office has sent through all the right details and the Sacred Envelope of Official Existence is waiting for them in the correct name.
"Of course we sent in all the details. Are you sure you don't have anything for the Outer Blatherwick Gazette-Post-Bugle-Press?"
The Media Center (aka the Tampa Convention Center) is a building of colossal proportions, all 600,000 square feet of it, and it could just as easily be Houston, or San Diego, or Detroit (yes, really), or Phoenix.
Once you are inside the vast-yet-labyrinthine confines of any major convention center, you are effectively in a hermetically sealed environment of the artificial, a rabbit warren domain peopled by indifferent security guards, bustling officials and bewildered journalists.
The signage indicates such arcane offerings as Shuttle Bus Route A, Working Room (we're here to work? Really?), Interview Room 2579/A/ZQR/73, Press Conference Center and, I'm sure if you looked hard enough, The Center of the Earth.
Huge hand-written boards carefully detail the official events of the day and vast acreages of newspapers are strewn around indifferently, casually overlooked by the majority, cruelly picked apart by a minority looking just for the funny papers. Several major deciduous forests have died purely so the Media Center can have wall-to-wall papers in this internet age.
Likewise, monstrous piles of both teams' media guide await those who need to add another 30 pounds of info to their already-straining-at-the-seams bags.
This is the Phoney War, the period of evaluation and info gathering, early maneuvering and careful posturing (like, I knew the garbage disposal room was at the end of the corridor but I did really need to check it out for my story, honest).
Thankfully, into the middle of this storm of near inertia, the teams arrive; reporters scurry to the video screens and the 67,000 denizens of Radio Row burst into something approximating to life, filling the airwaves with the latest 'news' and disecting the first live quotes of the week.
The Steelers are loosey-goosey; relaxed; both buttoned up (revealing nothing of significance) and buttoned down (jokey, cool and casual). Hines Ward insists he IS playing (although he won't even test his injured knee to any significant degree before Thursday - yet more shades of Tom Brady 2008); and Ben Roethlisberger almost bristled at the suggestion his No 1 target wouldn't be available. Possible indications of 'methinks they doth protest too much?' Time will tell.
The Cardinals arrived in more businesslike demeanor, most of their sextet suited and booted, but also seemingly unfazed by the sudden blow-torch intensity of the media glare. The aftermath of Anquan Boldin's sideline spat with coordinator Todd Haley is professionally brushed under the carpet and left to wither. And Kurt Warner proves, not for the first time, that his sporting guise encompasses the contemplation of a philosopher.
No hints of animosity, no suggestion of bulletin board material (and, in this media-intensive age, I'll be astonished if that changes). Neither team boasts a Joey Porter, let alone a Joe Namath, and the evidence of carefully-schooled PR-speak is everywhere. Even my wife can spot it at 100 yards on TV.
But, thankfully, we do have a team that is (largely) new to all this and there is Media Day to come tomorrow, the annual Scrimmage of the Journos.
Let battle commence......!
The Monday of Super Bowl week is pretty much the day when Not Very Much Happens but we try to pretend that it has.
Most of the 4,000 or so accredited media will arrive on Monday and will still be getting their bearings; which way to the Media Center, where is the Stadium, how many Starbucks are there nearby and why are there no free bags?
The occasionally painful process of getting your official Week of Game media accreditation has to be endured (and there is a separate one for Game Day), as everyone lines up and hopes their office has sent through all the right details and the Sacred Envelope of Official Existence is waiting for them in the correct name.
"Of course we sent in all the details. Are you sure you don't have anything for the Outer Blatherwick Gazette-Post-Bugle-Press?"
The Media Center (aka the Tampa Convention Center) is a building of colossal proportions, all 600,000 square feet of it, and it could just as easily be Houston, or San Diego, or Detroit (yes, really), or Phoenix.
Once you are inside the vast-yet-labyrinthine confines of any major convention center, you are effectively in a hermetically sealed environment of the artificial, a rabbit warren domain peopled by indifferent security guards, bustling officials and bewildered journalists.
The signage indicates such arcane offerings as Shuttle Bus Route A, Working Room (we're here to work? Really?), Interview Room 2579/A/ZQR/73, Press Conference Center and, I'm sure if you looked hard enough, The Center of the Earth.
Huge hand-written boards carefully detail the official events of the day and vast acreages of newspapers are strewn around indifferently, casually overlooked by the majority, cruelly picked apart by a minority looking just for the funny papers. Several major deciduous forests have died purely so the Media Center can have wall-to-wall papers in this internet age.
Likewise, monstrous piles of both teams' media guide await those who need to add another 30 pounds of info to their already-straining-at-the-seams bags.
This is the Phoney War, the period of evaluation and info gathering, early maneuvering and careful posturing (like, I knew the garbage disposal room was at the end of the corridor but I did really need to check it out for my story, honest).
Thankfully, into the middle of this storm of near inertia, the teams arrive; reporters scurry to the video screens and the 67,000 denizens of Radio Row burst into something approximating to life, filling the airwaves with the latest 'news' and disecting the first live quotes of the week.
The Steelers are loosey-goosey; relaxed; both buttoned up (revealing nothing of significance) and buttoned down (jokey, cool and casual). Hines Ward insists he IS playing (although he won't even test his injured knee to any significant degree before Thursday - yet more shades of Tom Brady 2008); and Ben Roethlisberger almost bristled at the suggestion his No 1 target wouldn't be available. Possible indications of 'methinks they doth protest too much?' Time will tell.
The Cardinals arrived in more businesslike demeanor, most of their sextet suited and booted, but also seemingly unfazed by the sudden blow-torch intensity of the media glare. The aftermath of Anquan Boldin's sideline spat with coordinator Todd Haley is professionally brushed under the carpet and left to wither. And Kurt Warner proves, not for the first time, that his sporting guise encompasses the contemplation of a philosopher.
No hints of animosity, no suggestion of bulletin board material (and, in this media-intensive age, I'll be astonished if that changes). Neither team boasts a Joey Porter, let alone a Joe Namath, and the evidence of carefully-schooled PR-speak is everywhere. Even my wife can spot it at 100 yards on TV.
But, thankfully, we do have a team that is (largely) new to all this and there is Media Day to come tomorrow, the annual Scrimmage of the Journos.
Let battle commence......!
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Countdown to the Biggest Annual Sporting Event in the World!
Super Bowl XLIII - Day 0
OK, Day 0 doesn't really make much sense, but it is as valid a starting point for this wonderful/crazy/nonsensical/corporate/party event as any other.
The Super Bowl almost defies description in many ways as it has become such a monstrous, bloated commercial occasion it has long ceased to have a true sporting atmosphere. When the focus can be as much on the obscene fees charged for TV commercials and the elaborate half-time facilities (which completely disrupt the players' concentration and sporting rhythm), you know this is not a mere game.
But that is definitely now a part of the overall fun and fascination as the host city becomes Party Central for a week and somehow a meaningful sports occasion breaks out at the end of it. Last year we were treated to one of the most scintillating finales, with the Giants edging out the mighty Patriots in truly stunning fashion (one of those occasions when you knew you were witnessing history-in-the-making) and, while on paper at least, this year's match-up is not quite so appealing, it has just as much potential for a gazillion words to be lavished over it in preview.
So where do you start at the beginning of the 'biggest annual sporting event in the world'?
Well, how about a quick preview of what we can expect from the next 7 days of interviews, press conferences, parties, arguments, traffic jams and TV excesses?
Monday: teams arrive to a pleasant Florida welcome and make initial statements; Arizona are left blinking in the international glare while Pittsburgh crack jokes about preferring the weather in Pennsylvania.
Tuesday: scrum on down! The 4,000 or so accredited media converge on Raymond James Stadium for the ritual of Media Day, an hour in turn with all the players of each team, jostling to ask inane questions and compete with each other to be more wacky (especially the Nickelodeon TV reporters, who can actually look pretty mature compared to some of their grown-up counterparts). A female Spanish-language TV reporter will turn up wearing next to nothing, Hines Ward will be asked six billion questions about his knee, Ken Whisenhunt will field several billion about the 'revenge factor' and members of the ferocious Steelers linebacker corps will be asked to say which animal they most resemble (or tree, or flower, or automobile. Or maybe just to prove they are, in fact, human and not some maniacal group of Terminators sent back in time by the Cyberdyne Corporation to make a killing, literally, with the bookies).
Wednesday: the scene shifts in turn to the two team hotels, with the media hordes descending first on the Cardinals and then the Steelers, to ask pretty much the same questions in a different order, in different accents and with exactly the same results. Hines Ward insists for the gazillionth time that "I WILL play on Sunday" and Kurt Warner is asked to revive his memories of playing for the Amsterdam Admirals in 1998 for the 1,697th time (by me).
Thursday: repeat Wednesday, but add in various press conferences back at the Media Center (the Tampa Convention Center), like the Gridiron Great press conference, the Motorola NFL Coach of the Year award, the Diet Pepsi NFL Rookie of the Year press conference, the Pre-Game Show press conference, the Bridgestone Half-Time Show press conference (where all 4,000 journalists cram in one tiny room to get a glimpse of the game's true hero - Bruce Springsteen), the NFL YET Center press conference (and no, I don't know what that is either) and the Pink Yeti Up-Your-Jumper Balloon Throwers convention award press conference (um, that last one may be just a little bit made up. But only a little). Did I mention it can be a bit corporate and commercial?
Friday: it's down to just the two head coaches to give press conferences and find new answers for the same questions they have heard all week. In a frenzy of invention and desperation, the media resort to interviewing the Media Center staff, passsers-by and even each other in a bid to find the 'something new' story of the week. The number of words written about Super Bowl XLIII now exceeds the US national debt.
Saturday: a collective drawing of breath from the print media. The 16,000 radio stations squeezed into Radio Row at the Media Center wonder where everyone has gone and is there a party they haven't been invited to?
Sunday: the Pre-Game Brunch. For those who have been covering the Super Bowl since the 1980s, this is THE ticket to have - the opportunity to eat and drink yourself silly before the game and collect the obligatory free hat and pin (freebies are an essential part and parcel of Super Bowl week for the media, although this year may be a bit different. In such stringent economic times, we may have to forego the pin).
Finally, after 6-and-a-half days of pure media frenzy, we get to The Game. Roughly 100,000 people descend on Raymond James Stadium (capacity 72,500) and nearly all of them get in. Two hours of pre-game festivities pass in an eye-blink and the national anthem concludes with a thundering USAAF fly-past, stirring even the cynical members of the UK press corps. The game kicks off and a whole country stops to watch on TV (along with more than 220 other countries around the world in 35 languages). Legends will be created, TV ads will be aired to mass critical acclaim and, somewhere amid the maelstrom, either Arizona or Pittsburgh will be crowned NFL champions (note to media: NOT 'world' champions; the rest of the world doesn't actually play the game, and much of it doesn't even care. But, for roughly 3 hours, football will be THE game). Let the fun begin.
Are you ready?
Super Bowl XLIII - Day 0
OK, Day 0 doesn't really make much sense, but it is as valid a starting point for this wonderful/crazy/nonsensical/corporate/party event as any other.
The Super Bowl almost defies description in many ways as it has become such a monstrous, bloated commercial occasion it has long ceased to have a true sporting atmosphere. When the focus can be as much on the obscene fees charged for TV commercials and the elaborate half-time facilities (which completely disrupt the players' concentration and sporting rhythm), you know this is not a mere game.
But that is definitely now a part of the overall fun and fascination as the host city becomes Party Central for a week and somehow a meaningful sports occasion breaks out at the end of it. Last year we were treated to one of the most scintillating finales, with the Giants edging out the mighty Patriots in truly stunning fashion (one of those occasions when you knew you were witnessing history-in-the-making) and, while on paper at least, this year's match-up is not quite so appealing, it has just as much potential for a gazillion words to be lavished over it in preview.
So where do you start at the beginning of the 'biggest annual sporting event in the world'?
Well, how about a quick preview of what we can expect from the next 7 days of interviews, press conferences, parties, arguments, traffic jams and TV excesses?
Monday: teams arrive to a pleasant Florida welcome and make initial statements; Arizona are left blinking in the international glare while Pittsburgh crack jokes about preferring the weather in Pennsylvania.
Tuesday: scrum on down! The 4,000 or so accredited media converge on Raymond James Stadium for the ritual of Media Day, an hour in turn with all the players of each team, jostling to ask inane questions and compete with each other to be more wacky (especially the Nickelodeon TV reporters, who can actually look pretty mature compared to some of their grown-up counterparts). A female Spanish-language TV reporter will turn up wearing next to nothing, Hines Ward will be asked six billion questions about his knee, Ken Whisenhunt will field several billion about the 'revenge factor' and members of the ferocious Steelers linebacker corps will be asked to say which animal they most resemble (or tree, or flower, or automobile. Or maybe just to prove they are, in fact, human and not some maniacal group of Terminators sent back in time by the Cyberdyne Corporation to make a killing, literally, with the bookies).
Wednesday: the scene shifts in turn to the two team hotels, with the media hordes descending first on the Cardinals and then the Steelers, to ask pretty much the same questions in a different order, in different accents and with exactly the same results. Hines Ward insists for the gazillionth time that "I WILL play on Sunday" and Kurt Warner is asked to revive his memories of playing for the Amsterdam Admirals in 1998 for the 1,697th time (by me).
Thursday: repeat Wednesday, but add in various press conferences back at the Media Center (the Tampa Convention Center), like the Gridiron Great press conference, the Motorola NFL Coach of the Year award, the Diet Pepsi NFL Rookie of the Year press conference, the Pre-Game Show press conference, the Bridgestone Half-Time Show press conference (where all 4,000 journalists cram in one tiny room to get a glimpse of the game's true hero - Bruce Springsteen), the NFL YET Center press conference (and no, I don't know what that is either) and the Pink Yeti Up-Your-Jumper Balloon Throwers convention award press conference (um, that last one may be just a little bit made up. But only a little). Did I mention it can be a bit corporate and commercial?
Friday: it's down to just the two head coaches to give press conferences and find new answers for the same questions they have heard all week. In a frenzy of invention and desperation, the media resort to interviewing the Media Center staff, passsers-by and even each other in a bid to find the 'something new' story of the week. The number of words written about Super Bowl XLIII now exceeds the US national debt.
Saturday: a collective drawing of breath from the print media. The 16,000 radio stations squeezed into Radio Row at the Media Center wonder where everyone has gone and is there a party they haven't been invited to?
Sunday: the Pre-Game Brunch. For those who have been covering the Super Bowl since the 1980s, this is THE ticket to have - the opportunity to eat and drink yourself silly before the game and collect the obligatory free hat and pin (freebies are an essential part and parcel of Super Bowl week for the media, although this year may be a bit different. In such stringent economic times, we may have to forego the pin).
Finally, after 6-and-a-half days of pure media frenzy, we get to The Game. Roughly 100,000 people descend on Raymond James Stadium (capacity 72,500) and nearly all of them get in. Two hours of pre-game festivities pass in an eye-blink and the national anthem concludes with a thundering USAAF fly-past, stirring even the cynical members of the UK press corps. The game kicks off and a whole country stops to watch on TV (along with more than 220 other countries around the world in 35 languages). Legends will be created, TV ads will be aired to mass critical acclaim and, somewhere amid the maelstrom, either Arizona or Pittsburgh will be crowned NFL champions (note to media: NOT 'world' champions; the rest of the world doesn't actually play the game, and much of it doesn't even care. But, for roughly 3 hours, football will be THE game). Let the fun begin.
Are you ready?
Monday, January 19, 2009
Not Much Room On This Bandwagon
The votes are in, and we have a landslide result, a foregone conclusion. Pittsburgh will whip Arizona in Super Bowl XLIII and we can take that to the bank. The pundits and the masses have spoken.
The Cardinals are also the 'worst' team ever to reach the Big Game and they don't deserve to be there.
Only they're not, and they do.
Statistically, the 1990 Denver Broncos were the worst team to reach the Super Bowl, because the 55-10 drubbing they suffered at the hands of San Francisco was easily the most lop-sided in history. And, if Pittsburgh beat Arizona by 45 points, I will not only eat my hat but the rest of my wardrobe, too.
Then there were the '95 San Diego Chargers, who opened as record 18.5 underdogs to San Francisco - and still made the odds-makers look naive as they crashed 49-26 (it could easily have been 49-10 but for two late - and utterly meaningless - Charger TDs).
And who's to say the 'worst' team prior to kick-off weren't the original underdogs, the Jets, who were rubbished by just about all and sundry before turning an 18-point line into a 16-7 Super Bowl III win? Or how about the 2001 Patriots, who were given no chance at all before upsetting the 'Greatest Show on Turf'?
Hindsight shows the latter two would have been really dumb predictions but there were plenty of people beforehand willing to line up in that column.
Hindsight DOES show us that the 2007 Bears were pretty feeble, the '72 Dolphins were also among the 'worst' ever to play on the NFL's biggest stage (with a record low 3 points) and the 2001 Giants just plain stank because of the miserable performance they put up against Baltimore.
But no-one said beforehand that any of those three deserved the label of total losers, unworthy of their place in the spotlight.
Which all goes to show - before you even consider the evidence - that applying this argument to the Cardinals is both foolish, off the mark, irrelevant and totally inaccurate.
To start with, the Steelers are just 7-point favorites, which seems about right for the No 1 defense in the universe. Not 10, 15 or 20; just 7, a touchdown's worth. Defense, as we are told ad nauseam, wins championships. Unless there is a great offense involved - like the 1997 Packers, the 2000 Rams and 2007 Colts. Or, perhaps, the 2009 Cardinals.
And anyone who thinks this Arizona team doesn't pack plenty of offense, after 30, 33 and 32 points against the Falcons, Panthers and Eagles (three pretty decent defenses, by the way), just hasn't been paying attention. Larry Fitzgerald has emerged as THE single biggest TD threat on the planet - if the ball is in his half of the field, he is capable of catching it - and that one fact alone will keep Dick Lebeau and his defensive assistants up late for the next 12 nights.
This is also a team that boasts three (count them, THREE) 1,000-yard receivers, only the fifth team in history to have that kind of offensive firepower. And there is the little matter of the former Super Bowl MVP in the quarterback position, with a 112.1 rating through the playoffs to date. Kurt Warner has also piled up some 5,353 yards to date, with 38 TDs. Rex Grossman this is not.
There is also the fairly salient point that Cardinals head coach Ken Whisenhunt (and EIGHT of his assistants) are all pretty familiar with this Steelers team. And, if there is one team they are perfectly equipped to stop, it is Pittsburgh (ask anyone who tried to run on them in this post-season). Then, when teams look to pass against Arizona, be aware these Cards also have eight interceptions to their credit in just three games, plus four fumbles recovered.
That's an average of FOUR turnovers per game and, if there is one thing this post-season has shown, it is the team with most turnovers wins, pure and simple. And it's not even close.
So, anyone who thinks they can ride this Arizona-have-no-chance bandwagon all the way to Tampa may be in for a little surprise.
The votes are in, and we have a landslide result, a foregone conclusion. Pittsburgh will whip Arizona in Super Bowl XLIII and we can take that to the bank. The pundits and the masses have spoken.
The Cardinals are also the 'worst' team ever to reach the Big Game and they don't deserve to be there.
Only they're not, and they do.
Statistically, the 1990 Denver Broncos were the worst team to reach the Super Bowl, because the 55-10 drubbing they suffered at the hands of San Francisco was easily the most lop-sided in history. And, if Pittsburgh beat Arizona by 45 points, I will not only eat my hat but the rest of my wardrobe, too.
Then there were the '95 San Diego Chargers, who opened as record 18.5 underdogs to San Francisco - and still made the odds-makers look naive as they crashed 49-26 (it could easily have been 49-10 but for two late - and utterly meaningless - Charger TDs).
And who's to say the 'worst' team prior to kick-off weren't the original underdogs, the Jets, who were rubbished by just about all and sundry before turning an 18-point line into a 16-7 Super Bowl III win? Or how about the 2001 Patriots, who were given no chance at all before upsetting the 'Greatest Show on Turf'?
Hindsight shows the latter two would have been really dumb predictions but there were plenty of people beforehand willing to line up in that column.
Hindsight DOES show us that the 2007 Bears were pretty feeble, the '72 Dolphins were also among the 'worst' ever to play on the NFL's biggest stage (with a record low 3 points) and the 2001 Giants just plain stank because of the miserable performance they put up against Baltimore.
But no-one said beforehand that any of those three deserved the label of total losers, unworthy of their place in the spotlight.
Which all goes to show - before you even consider the evidence - that applying this argument to the Cardinals is both foolish, off the mark, irrelevant and totally inaccurate.
To start with, the Steelers are just 7-point favorites, which seems about right for the No 1 defense in the universe. Not 10, 15 or 20; just 7, a touchdown's worth. Defense, as we are told ad nauseam, wins championships. Unless there is a great offense involved - like the 1997 Packers, the 2000 Rams and 2007 Colts. Or, perhaps, the 2009 Cardinals.
And anyone who thinks this Arizona team doesn't pack plenty of offense, after 30, 33 and 32 points against the Falcons, Panthers and Eagles (three pretty decent defenses, by the way), just hasn't been paying attention. Larry Fitzgerald has emerged as THE single biggest TD threat on the planet - if the ball is in his half of the field, he is capable of catching it - and that one fact alone will keep Dick Lebeau and his defensive assistants up late for the next 12 nights.
This is also a team that boasts three (count them, THREE) 1,000-yard receivers, only the fifth team in history to have that kind of offensive firepower. And there is the little matter of the former Super Bowl MVP in the quarterback position, with a 112.1 rating through the playoffs to date. Kurt Warner has also piled up some 5,353 yards to date, with 38 TDs. Rex Grossman this is not.
There is also the fairly salient point that Cardinals head coach Ken Whisenhunt (and EIGHT of his assistants) are all pretty familiar with this Steelers team. And, if there is one team they are perfectly equipped to stop, it is Pittsburgh (ask anyone who tried to run on them in this post-season). Then, when teams look to pass against Arizona, be aware these Cards also have eight interceptions to their credit in just three games, plus four fumbles recovered.
That's an average of FOUR turnovers per game and, if there is one thing this post-season has shown, it is the team with most turnovers wins, pure and simple. And it's not even close.
So, anyone who thinks they can ride this Arizona-have-no-chance bandwagon all the way to Tampa may be in for a little surprise.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Are You Watching, President-Elect?
No-one can feel that the NFL isn't distinctly poorer today in terms of its human quality with the news Tony Dungy is standing down as head coach of Indianapolis.
There are certain people who help to raise the emotional and even spiritual nature of sport from time to time, and Dungy was most certainly someone who had a hugely inspirational effect on this score.
The 53-year-old brought a rare multi-dimensional aspect to his approach to the sport that involved not just the tactical and physical well-being of his players, but also their mental and spiritual health.
Anyone who came under Dungy's influence - and his Super Bowl appearance in 2007 was the perfect example - could not fail to be impressed by his unfailing, quiet dignity and deep humanity.
In fact it was hard to reconcile the highly public face of the man with the often brutal nature of the sport and its requirement for a tough, ruthless approach to the great god of Winning.
Somehow, Dungy achieved the near impossible of balancing the human with the inhuman; of keeping the need to win at all costs balanced by the need to treat people decently; and by offering everyone the same considered, solicitous demeanor.
You always felt the Colts head coach gave his full attention to each and every question, no matter how trivial (and Super Bowl certainly generates an avalanche of trivia!), and that he also enjoyed each experience to the full in his own calm, quiet manner.
The tragedy of his son's death reached to the heart of every parent and produced an inner pain we can only imagine - and hope we never have to feel for ourselves. It also elicited a near-incomprehensible reaction of understanding and stoicism from the man himself - another life lesson in acceptance and continuance.
There is so much to admire in what he has brought to the NFL - and anyone who has come within his considerable orbit will know immediately what I mean - you fear, slightly, for the vacuum he will inevitably leave behind.
The league's loss, though, is likely to be a country's gain, as it seems clear this is merely a stepping stone to another level of commitment and contribution in the Dungy book of altruism.
You also wonder if a certain President-Elect might be watching and considering a significant national role for a man who clearly grasps the Big Picture of life and his own ability to add some meaningful brushstrokes to it.
No-one can feel that the NFL isn't distinctly poorer today in terms of its human quality with the news Tony Dungy is standing down as head coach of Indianapolis.
There are certain people who help to raise the emotional and even spiritual nature of sport from time to time, and Dungy was most certainly someone who had a hugely inspirational effect on this score.
The 53-year-old brought a rare multi-dimensional aspect to his approach to the sport that involved not just the tactical and physical well-being of his players, but also their mental and spiritual health.
Anyone who came under Dungy's influence - and his Super Bowl appearance in 2007 was the perfect example - could not fail to be impressed by his unfailing, quiet dignity and deep humanity.
In fact it was hard to reconcile the highly public face of the man with the often brutal nature of the sport and its requirement for a tough, ruthless approach to the great god of Winning.
Somehow, Dungy achieved the near impossible of balancing the human with the inhuman; of keeping the need to win at all costs balanced by the need to treat people decently; and by offering everyone the same considered, solicitous demeanor.
You always felt the Colts head coach gave his full attention to each and every question, no matter how trivial (and Super Bowl certainly generates an avalanche of trivia!), and that he also enjoyed each experience to the full in his own calm, quiet manner.
The tragedy of his son's death reached to the heart of every parent and produced an inner pain we can only imagine - and hope we never have to feel for ourselves. It also elicited a near-incomprehensible reaction of understanding and stoicism from the man himself - another life lesson in acceptance and continuance.
There is so much to admire in what he has brought to the NFL - and anyone who has come within his considerable orbit will know immediately what I mean - you fear, slightly, for the vacuum he will inevitably leave behind.
The league's loss, though, is likely to be a country's gain, as it seems clear this is merely a stepping stone to another level of commitment and contribution in the Dungy book of altruism.
You also wonder if a certain President-Elect might be watching and considering a significant national role for a man who clearly grasps the Big Picture of life and his own ability to add some meaningful brushstrokes to it.
Monday, January 12, 2009
A Bit Crowded, Chaps?
I just couldn't resist highlighting this phrase in a story about Team Penske having to replace Helio Castroneves as their lead driver for 2009 (due to a slight oversight while the Brazilian ace was filling in his income tax forms).
"Justin Wilson of England, Will Power of Australia, Ryan Hunter-Reay of the United States and Romain Dumas of France are among the drivers expected to take Castroneves' place in the No. 3 car."
Two thoughts:
1) It's going to be a bit crowded in the cockpit of that car, isn't it?
And 2) Just how many drivers does it take to replace one Brazilian?
Answers on a postcard to Roger Penske.......
I just couldn't resist highlighting this phrase in a story about Team Penske having to replace Helio Castroneves as their lead driver for 2009 (due to a slight oversight while the Brazilian ace was filling in his income tax forms).
"Justin Wilson of England, Will Power of Australia, Ryan Hunter-Reay of the United States and Romain Dumas of France are among the drivers expected to take Castroneves' place in the No. 3 car."
Two thoughts:
1) It's going to be a bit crowded in the cockpit of that car, isn't it?
And 2) Just how many drivers does it take to replace one Brazilian?
Answers on a postcard to Roger Penske.......
The King of Monday Commentaries
No apologies for continuing to single out SI.com's Peter King as the doyen of Monday Morning reading (and Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, etc, come to that).
His column today is another mini-masterpiece of analysis, insight, insider comment, quirky observations and offbeat whimsy.
The latest instalment offers the usual sprinkling of statistical gems, locker-room chat, fabulous quotes, technical awareness and topical issues, along with less obvious but equally entertaining items.
Where else could you be regaled by facts about the price of a Plaxico Burress jersey, the Grand Ol' Opry in Nashville, the draft value of DeSean Jackson and the movie Gran Torino?
Just priceless.
No apologies for continuing to single out SI.com's Peter King as the doyen of Monday Morning reading (and Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, etc, come to that).
His column today is another mini-masterpiece of analysis, insight, insider comment, quirky observations and offbeat whimsy.
The latest instalment offers the usual sprinkling of statistical gems, locker-room chat, fabulous quotes, technical awareness and topical issues, along with less obvious but equally entertaining items.
Where else could you be regaled by facts about the price of a Plaxico Burress jersey, the Grand Ol' Opry in Nashville, the draft value of DeSean Jackson and the movie Gran Torino?
Just priceless.
QBCL Requiem (Part 2)
I honestly, genuinely, thought I had written all there was to say about the poor nature of the current Quarterback Challenged League (which most still refer to as the NFL), but the weekend's playoff games provided yet more fodder for this particular soapbox.
The stats alone are alarming: another 4 games which produced only 9 TD passes and a whopping 12 INTs (it could easily have been worse, too; Philip Rivers finished with a 3:1 ratio, but it could - and probably should - have been 2:2 as he got away with a late, late INT despite the evidence of the video replay).
Even if you took out the truly appalling 'game' played by Carolina's Jake Delhomme, the ratio would still have been a paltry 8:7.
Only two of the eight QBs managed to avoid an interception and only two managed to throw more than one touchdown.
That means in the two playoff weekends so far, we've had 16 TDs (an average of exactly two per game) and a stunning 22 INTs. And I thought last year's Wild Card round of 9:13 was bad. If the playoffs last much longer, the QBCL ratio will be off the charts.
Yes, I know the standard of 'D' on offer at the weekend was of the highest order; you expect that at this time of the year. These are supposed to be the best teams the NFL can offer. But equally, you would expect the play of the various signal-callers to be raised a notch or two (preferably the latter).
And, of the eight under-the-microscope QBs, who should be singled out from the four games as the real difference-makers, the ones who raised their game and aspired the mantle of Montana and Co?
Joe Flacco was sure and steady at the helm for Baltimore, but he wasn't the main reason they won; Kerry Collins was arguably more productive for the Titans, but he didn't come close to being a fundamental force for Tennessee.
Kurt Warner had a decent performance for Arizona, but the real (only?) reason the Cardinals are in Sunday's NFC Championship game is called Delhomme. A more miserable effort from a supposed playoff caliber QB is hard to imagine (and what he was doing still in the game in the third quarter, when it was clear to everyone in the stadium but John Fox that Delhomme was only going to dig an even bigger hole for his team, will remain one of the biggest mysteries of an increasingly baffling post-season. What - he couldn't find anyone else to go under center? The ball-boy was busy?).
The Eagles-Giants game was another low point for the QBCL, the two QBs going a combined 1:4. Yes, Donovan McNabb was responsible for one very good touchdown drive; but, without the Philly 'D' again playing their brains out and Eli Manning reverting to his Little Boy Lost persona, it is doubtful if that would have been anywhere near enough to lift the Eagles to Arizona.
Then we had a workmanlike performance from Ben Roethlisberger behind that amazingly solid Steeler O-line (and where had they been for the last three months? Ben's mom is very keen to find out the answer to that little conundrum!); but Pittsburgh was really energized primarily by the play of Willie Parker (and the final realization the team HAS to run the ball to get to Tampa). On the other side of the QB equation, between minute 3 (after his 41-yard pass to Vincent Jackson) and minute 58 (before that meaningless 62-yard catch-and-run scamper by Darren Sproles), Rivers was just 15-of-28 for 150 yards, with 1 TD and 1 INT. No real wonder the Chargers lost, then?
Can we get some real QB play this weekend? Please?? I'm fast running out of adjectives for miserable/woeful/appalling, and I'd like to save some for next season......
PS: the only two INT-free QBs left in the post-season play each other on Sunday. I wonder who will remain in the positive column this time next week?
I honestly, genuinely, thought I had written all there was to say about the poor nature of the current Quarterback Challenged League (which most still refer to as the NFL), but the weekend's playoff games provided yet more fodder for this particular soapbox.
The stats alone are alarming: another 4 games which produced only 9 TD passes and a whopping 12 INTs (it could easily have been worse, too; Philip Rivers finished with a 3:1 ratio, but it could - and probably should - have been 2:2 as he got away with a late, late INT despite the evidence of the video replay).
Even if you took out the truly appalling 'game' played by Carolina's Jake Delhomme, the ratio would still have been a paltry 8:7.
Only two of the eight QBs managed to avoid an interception and only two managed to throw more than one touchdown.
That means in the two playoff weekends so far, we've had 16 TDs (an average of exactly two per game) and a stunning 22 INTs. And I thought last year's Wild Card round of 9:13 was bad. If the playoffs last much longer, the QBCL ratio will be off the charts.
Yes, I know the standard of 'D' on offer at the weekend was of the highest order; you expect that at this time of the year. These are supposed to be the best teams the NFL can offer. But equally, you would expect the play of the various signal-callers to be raised a notch or two (preferably the latter).
And, of the eight under-the-microscope QBs, who should be singled out from the four games as the real difference-makers, the ones who raised their game and aspired the mantle of Montana and Co?
Joe Flacco was sure and steady at the helm for Baltimore, but he wasn't the main reason they won; Kerry Collins was arguably more productive for the Titans, but he didn't come close to being a fundamental force for Tennessee.
Kurt Warner had a decent performance for Arizona, but the real (only?) reason the Cardinals are in Sunday's NFC Championship game is called Delhomme. A more miserable effort from a supposed playoff caliber QB is hard to imagine (and what he was doing still in the game in the third quarter, when it was clear to everyone in the stadium but John Fox that Delhomme was only going to dig an even bigger hole for his team, will remain one of the biggest mysteries of an increasingly baffling post-season. What - he couldn't find anyone else to go under center? The ball-boy was busy?).
The Eagles-Giants game was another low point for the QBCL, the two QBs going a combined 1:4. Yes, Donovan McNabb was responsible for one very good touchdown drive; but, without the Philly 'D' again playing their brains out and Eli Manning reverting to his Little Boy Lost persona, it is doubtful if that would have been anywhere near enough to lift the Eagles to Arizona.
Then we had a workmanlike performance from Ben Roethlisberger behind that amazingly solid Steeler O-line (and where had they been for the last three months? Ben's mom is very keen to find out the answer to that little conundrum!); but Pittsburgh was really energized primarily by the play of Willie Parker (and the final realization the team HAS to run the ball to get to Tampa). On the other side of the QB equation, between minute 3 (after his 41-yard pass to Vincent Jackson) and minute 58 (before that meaningless 62-yard catch-and-run scamper by Darren Sproles), Rivers was just 15-of-28 for 150 yards, with 1 TD and 1 INT. No real wonder the Chargers lost, then?
Can we get some real QB play this weekend? Please?? I'm fast running out of adjectives for miserable/woeful/appalling, and I'd like to save some for next season......
PS: the only two INT-free QBs left in the post-season play each other on Sunday. I wonder who will remain in the positive column this time next week?
Sunday, January 11, 2009
What The Fox Was That?
Arizona deserved a lot of praise for their totally unexpected (outside their locker room) 33-13 win at Carolina. But the Fox Sports TV team were miles off the mark with attributing the victory to the Cardinals' running game.
The running game? Were they serious? In a game where Panthers quarterback Jake Delhomme turned the ball over a stunning SIX times, leading directly to 23 points, are we really supposed to believe that Edgerrin James, 57 yards on 20 carries, and Tim Hightower, 76 yards on 17 (with 48 of those yards on the final meaningless drive of the game) were the difference makers?
In a game where Larry Fitzgerald caught 8 balls for 166 yards (including 155 on 6 catches in the all-important first half) and James' longest run was just seven yards, was it really all about Arizona's "commitment to the run"?
And in a game where there was a HUGE disparity in time of possession, mainly down to the fact Carolina turned the ball over on HALF of their possessions, how can anyone trumpet the running game as "the most important factor in this win"?
Have they taken leave of their senses? Do they think we haven't been paying attention to any of the action, notably in a first half where the three turnovers led to 17 Cardinals points in their 27-7 lead?
In a game notable for the worst performance of Delhomme's 11-year career, and for the Panthers virtually abandoning the running game which had carried them smoothly into the playoffs (and the first touchdown of the game), almost the last factor in the outcome was the running game on either side.
Just 8 of Arizona's 21 first downs came by rushing, and four of those came in the fourth quarter with the game well and truly over. And yet their win was all about the running game?
Come ON. That is just feeble, inaccurate and lazy. When Delhomme torpedoed his own team single-handedly; when Fitzgerald was running free all over the field; and when the Panthers were about as badly coached as you can be in the post-season (what happened to the run? what happened to the defense?) please don't insult our intelligence by pinning the credit on James and Hightower (59 rushes in the post-season at a fairly pedestrian 3.88 a run, and a longest of just 17 yards).
The bottom line was that if you took those 23 turnover points off the Cardinals tally, you would be looking at a 13-10 Panthers win. A bit more interesting than just saying it was all down to the running game, hey?
Arizona deserved a lot of praise for their totally unexpected (outside their locker room) 33-13 win at Carolina. But the Fox Sports TV team were miles off the mark with attributing the victory to the Cardinals' running game.
The running game? Were they serious? In a game where Panthers quarterback Jake Delhomme turned the ball over a stunning SIX times, leading directly to 23 points, are we really supposed to believe that Edgerrin James, 57 yards on 20 carries, and Tim Hightower, 76 yards on 17 (with 48 of those yards on the final meaningless drive of the game) were the difference makers?
In a game where Larry Fitzgerald caught 8 balls for 166 yards (including 155 on 6 catches in the all-important first half) and James' longest run was just seven yards, was it really all about Arizona's "commitment to the run"?
And in a game where there was a HUGE disparity in time of possession, mainly down to the fact Carolina turned the ball over on HALF of their possessions, how can anyone trumpet the running game as "the most important factor in this win"?
Have they taken leave of their senses? Do they think we haven't been paying attention to any of the action, notably in a first half where the three turnovers led to 17 Cardinals points in their 27-7 lead?
In a game notable for the worst performance of Delhomme's 11-year career, and for the Panthers virtually abandoning the running game which had carried them smoothly into the playoffs (and the first touchdown of the game), almost the last factor in the outcome was the running game on either side.
Just 8 of Arizona's 21 first downs came by rushing, and four of those came in the fourth quarter with the game well and truly over. And yet their win was all about the running game?
Come ON. That is just feeble, inaccurate and lazy. When Delhomme torpedoed his own team single-handedly; when Fitzgerald was running free all over the field; and when the Panthers were about as badly coached as you can be in the post-season (what happened to the run? what happened to the defense?) please don't insult our intelligence by pinning the credit on James and Hightower (59 rushes in the post-season at a fairly pedestrian 3.88 a run, and a longest of just 17 yards).
The bottom line was that if you took those 23 turnover points off the Cardinals tally, you would be looking at a 13-10 Panthers win. A bit more interesting than just saying it was all down to the running game, hey?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
College Football Playoffs - The No-Brainer Argument
"That was easy"*
Andy Staples of Sports Illustrated has come up with the perfect argument for why they should be - why there HAS to be - a playoff system for college football.
It is all about the extra money colleges can earn - and, more importantly, the money tax-payers can save - by implementing a proper round of playoffs.
With USC, Texas AND Utah all having perfectly valid arguments for a tilt at the No.1 ranking, the sheer brainlessness of the system is there for all to see.
It just needs to be explained in, perhaps, the only language the BCS panjandrums will understand - the language of the almighty dollar.
And Staples does just that in his article, which is essential reading for all college fans. Check it out on this link.
*Staples - easy. Geddit?
"That was easy"*
Andy Staples of Sports Illustrated has come up with the perfect argument for why they should be - why there HAS to be - a playoff system for college football.
It is all about the extra money colleges can earn - and, more importantly, the money tax-payers can save - by implementing a proper round of playoffs.
With USC, Texas AND Utah all having perfectly valid arguments for a tilt at the No.1 ranking, the sheer brainlessness of the system is there for all to see.
It just needs to be explained in, perhaps, the only language the BCS panjandrums will understand - the language of the almighty dollar.
And Staples does just that in his article, which is essential reading for all college fans. Check it out on this link.
*Staples - easy. Geddit?
Friday, January 09, 2009
Heisman Lows
The Heisman voters have again made themselves (and their choice) out to look foolish by continuing to hold the vote and glittering 'unveiling' ceremony before the most important game of the season.
For third time in four years, the player dubbed the No 1 by the fabled Heisman process has gone out in the national championship game and been shown up either as substantially flawed or, worse, has been seriously overshadowed by a former trophy rival.
It's like the Super Bowl voters deciding their MVP before the game kicks off. It doesn't make sense and, more importantly, it leaves the Heisman wide open to obvious accusations of getting it badly wrong.
Just in recent years, we have seen Reggie Bush be firmly relegated behind Vince Young and Troy Smith left looking utterly impotent on the biggest stage.
And, if the key rationale behind the Heisman process isn't to identify the one player who stands above his peers for ALL reasons, including being able to handle the greatest pressure in the biggest games, then it's a pretty pointless exercise.
Many players are capable of playing well when everything is in their favor, but it is the handul of true greats who make things happen when things aren't going their way; when their team is trailing and needs them, personally and individually, to give them a lift; who rise above the crushing weight of expectation and deliver when it counts most.
So, for Sam Bradford to be given the title before his Sooners had even set foot in Florida was (yet again) asking for trouble and, more importantly, ridicule.
Yes, he had a great season and yes Oklahoma did a lot to justify the No 1 ranking, prior to the Bowl season.
Prior to the Bowl season.
Just think about that for a second. Prior to college football's most important games of the year (and yes, these ARE the biggest games, as not every conference boasts a championship game, so the evaluation process is fatally flawed right from the start), the MVP of the season is already chosen.
And no, it is not the same as the NFL, as the season's MVP has to be decided before the play-offs and Super Bowl for the simple reason he might not even be there (in fact, the odds say he isn't going to be there). But the selection is still perfectly valid because each team's body of work over the 16-game regular season is easy to evaluate on the same level.
College football doesn't even come CLOSE to the NFL model over its regular season, but everyone KNOWS the Heisman candidates are going to get one last chance to prove their credentials when it matters most - in a meaningful Bowl game.
Go back and look it up. Try to find a genuine Heisman hopeful who didn't play in a front-rank Bowl game in the last 20 years. I can't find one.
So why, when college football already has the most unbalanced process since Humpty Dumpty played see-saw with Little Red Riding Hood, when their 'championship' and 'No 1' rankings are already subject to scorn, do they insist on hanging their MVP out to dry in this way?
Because, if there is one thing the BCS Championship proved on Thursday night, it is that Bradford was not the best player in college football this year.
It was Tim Tebow (again). And, ultimately, it wasn't even really close.
The Heisman voters have again made themselves (and their choice) out to look foolish by continuing to hold the vote and glittering 'unveiling' ceremony before the most important game of the season.
For third time in four years, the player dubbed the No 1 by the fabled Heisman process has gone out in the national championship game and been shown up either as substantially flawed or, worse, has been seriously overshadowed by a former trophy rival.
It's like the Super Bowl voters deciding their MVP before the game kicks off. It doesn't make sense and, more importantly, it leaves the Heisman wide open to obvious accusations of getting it badly wrong.
Just in recent years, we have seen Reggie Bush be firmly relegated behind Vince Young and Troy Smith left looking utterly impotent on the biggest stage.
And, if the key rationale behind the Heisman process isn't to identify the one player who stands above his peers for ALL reasons, including being able to handle the greatest pressure in the biggest games, then it's a pretty pointless exercise.
Many players are capable of playing well when everything is in their favor, but it is the handul of true greats who make things happen when things aren't going their way; when their team is trailing and needs them, personally and individually, to give them a lift; who rise above the crushing weight of expectation and deliver when it counts most.
So, for Sam Bradford to be given the title before his Sooners had even set foot in Florida was (yet again) asking for trouble and, more importantly, ridicule.
Yes, he had a great season and yes Oklahoma did a lot to justify the No 1 ranking, prior to the Bowl season.
Prior to the Bowl season.
Just think about that for a second. Prior to college football's most important games of the year (and yes, these ARE the biggest games, as not every conference boasts a championship game, so the evaluation process is fatally flawed right from the start), the MVP of the season is already chosen.
And no, it is not the same as the NFL, as the season's MVP has to be decided before the play-offs and Super Bowl for the simple reason he might not even be there (in fact, the odds say he isn't going to be there). But the selection is still perfectly valid because each team's body of work over the 16-game regular season is easy to evaluate on the same level.
College football doesn't even come CLOSE to the NFL model over its regular season, but everyone KNOWS the Heisman candidates are going to get one last chance to prove their credentials when it matters most - in a meaningful Bowl game.
Go back and look it up. Try to find a genuine Heisman hopeful who didn't play in a front-rank Bowl game in the last 20 years. I can't find one.
So why, when college football already has the most unbalanced process since Humpty Dumpty played see-saw with Little Red Riding Hood, when their 'championship' and 'No 1' rankings are already subject to scorn, do they insist on hanging their MVP out to dry in this way?
Because, if there is one thing the BCS Championship proved on Thursday night, it is that Bradford was not the best player in college football this year.
It was Tim Tebow (again). And, ultimately, it wasn't even really close.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
The Ego Has Landed
Brett Favre has taken a worthy high road in the post-season fallout and sniping from team-mates about his contribution to the Jets' miserable end-of-season collapse.
He has refused to shoot back at Thomas Jones and Co for their insisting he carry the can for the team's failings.
Yes, Favre was distinctly culpable in their four-out-of-five losing skid, tossing 9 INTs and only 2 TDs during the wreckage of the team's December multi-vehicle pile-up.
Yes, the QB carries more than his share of responsibility, especially the ones earning the big bucks like Favre himself.
And yes, it is up to the veteran stars (like Favre) to lift a team and try to keep the wheels from falling off when the bandwagon begins to wobble, as it most certainly did before hitting the buffers in such emphatic fashion.
But Favre wasn't responsible for most of the 122 points the team allowed in that 5-game run, nor for the dropped passes, the blown line assignments (he took 9 of his season total 30 sacks in that spell) and the fact Jones' yardage dropped to 3.5 per carry in the final 3 games (from a high of almost 5 at the season's mid-way point).
When a team goes into the tank as firmly and definitively as the Jets did from November 30 onwards, there is more than one person who carries the can and plenty of blame to go around.
Yet, one comment from Favre in all this sad (and unnecessary) post-season ruminating highlights a distinct frame of mind that is almost as worrying as some of his team-mates' urgent desire to throw him under the nearest large-wheeled vehicle.
He said: "The bottom line is, I didn't play well in the final 5 games. It starts with me and it should....My expectations of myself are high, and the only one that I let down was myself."
Actually, no Brett. You let down rather more than just one person. You let down another 50 or so players who were all hoping you would be the one to lead them out of their self-imposed funk; you let down a bunch of coaches who had pinned their faith on No.4 as The Man in The Meadowlands; you let down a front office staff who went out of their way to end your self-created Green Bay impasse; you let down an owner who generously bankrolled the move and gave you one last chance to pad your legend with a team that had genuine potential; and you let down many thousands of fans who bought Jets jerseys with 'Favre' on the back who also paid a lot of money to cheer your early, faltering steps in those unfamiliar colors.
And to suggest you are the only person who counts in this whole sorry saga is an ego trip of borderline monstrous proportions.
But then I refer my readers to the answer I gave a few days ago....
Brett Favre has taken a worthy high road in the post-season fallout and sniping from team-mates about his contribution to the Jets' miserable end-of-season collapse.
He has refused to shoot back at Thomas Jones and Co for their insisting he carry the can for the team's failings.
Yes, Favre was distinctly culpable in their four-out-of-five losing skid, tossing 9 INTs and only 2 TDs during the wreckage of the team's December multi-vehicle pile-up.
Yes, the QB carries more than his share of responsibility, especially the ones earning the big bucks like Favre himself.
And yes, it is up to the veteran stars (like Favre) to lift a team and try to keep the wheels from falling off when the bandwagon begins to wobble, as it most certainly did before hitting the buffers in such emphatic fashion.
But Favre wasn't responsible for most of the 122 points the team allowed in that 5-game run, nor for the dropped passes, the blown line assignments (he took 9 of his season total 30 sacks in that spell) and the fact Jones' yardage dropped to 3.5 per carry in the final 3 games (from a high of almost 5 at the season's mid-way point).
When a team goes into the tank as firmly and definitively as the Jets did from November 30 onwards, there is more than one person who carries the can and plenty of blame to go around.
Yet, one comment from Favre in all this sad (and unnecessary) post-season ruminating highlights a distinct frame of mind that is almost as worrying as some of his team-mates' urgent desire to throw him under the nearest large-wheeled vehicle.
He said: "The bottom line is, I didn't play well in the final 5 games. It starts with me and it should....My expectations of myself are high, and the only one that I let down was myself."
Actually, no Brett. You let down rather more than just one person. You let down another 50 or so players who were all hoping you would be the one to lead them out of their self-imposed funk; you let down a bunch of coaches who had pinned their faith on No.4 as The Man in The Meadowlands; you let down a front office staff who went out of their way to end your self-created Green Bay impasse; you let down an owner who generously bankrolled the move and gave you one last chance to pad your legend with a team that had genuine potential; and you let down many thousands of fans who bought Jets jerseys with 'Favre' on the back who also paid a lot of money to cheer your early, faltering steps in those unfamiliar colors.
And to suggest you are the only person who counts in this whole sorry saga is an ego trip of borderline monstrous proportions.
But then I refer my readers to the answer I gave a few days ago....
Monday, January 05, 2009
QBCL (requiem?)
OK, it was probably foolish to try to sign off with the Quarterback Challenged League last week with the wildest of Wild Card rounds in the offing. And there was a distinct amount of additional bruising to the egos of the various sign-callers in action over the weekend in what is otherwise known as the NFL.
But I did, genuinely, expect more from the 8 men under center than a tally of just 7 TD passes and another 10 INTs in those four games.
Much of it (the 10 interceptions, at least) can certainly be attributed to the rookie element of the various QBs, and the truly ferocious nature of the Baltimore D (now we know who put the 'Raven' in ravenous). But, with only 7 TD passes - which was actually DOWN from the truly appalling 9 of this weekend last season - it does make you wonder if some teams (Miami, Minnesota?) might still have questions to answer over the position next pre-season.
Only two QBs avoided an interception (Joe Flacco and Peyton Manning), and one of those still finished on the losing side (thanks, in part, to the horribly iniquitous nature of NFL overtime rules). Only Manning and Kurt Warner managed a positive TD:INT ratio, and some of the INTs that were thrown were positive killers (step forward Chad Pennington, Matt Ryan, Tarvaris Jackson and even Philip Rivers). Ryan also added a fumble that went for an Arizona score and a sack for a safety that provided further ammuniton for the QBCL.
Flacco and Ryan (who were a combined 2:2, with Ryan responsible for all 4 of them) obviously deserve a pass for their novice standing in this year's play-offs and they fact they clearly both have a genuine future in the genuine NFL.
Warner and Donovan McNabb (a combined 3:2) can also look back on both their results and stats with a good deal of satisfaction. But the other 4 were certainly less than overwhelming, at least statistically.
And, with a Divisional Round that boasts six of the NFL's top defences (plus a newly-invigorated Cardinals 'D' and a Chargers unit that limited the high-scoring Colts significantly), there is plenty of scope for the coming weekend to supply a lot more in the way of bruises.
Stay tuned......!
OK, it was probably foolish to try to sign off with the Quarterback Challenged League last week with the wildest of Wild Card rounds in the offing. And there was a distinct amount of additional bruising to the egos of the various sign-callers in action over the weekend in what is otherwise known as the NFL.
But I did, genuinely, expect more from the 8 men under center than a tally of just 7 TD passes and another 10 INTs in those four games.
Much of it (the 10 interceptions, at least) can certainly be attributed to the rookie element of the various QBs, and the truly ferocious nature of the Baltimore D (now we know who put the 'Raven' in ravenous). But, with only 7 TD passes - which was actually DOWN from the truly appalling 9 of this weekend last season - it does make you wonder if some teams (Miami, Minnesota?) might still have questions to answer over the position next pre-season.
Only two QBs avoided an interception (Joe Flacco and Peyton Manning), and one of those still finished on the losing side (thanks, in part, to the horribly iniquitous nature of NFL overtime rules). Only Manning and Kurt Warner managed a positive TD:INT ratio, and some of the INTs that were thrown were positive killers (step forward Chad Pennington, Matt Ryan, Tarvaris Jackson and even Philip Rivers). Ryan also added a fumble that went for an Arizona score and a sack for a safety that provided further ammuniton for the QBCL.
Flacco and Ryan (who were a combined 2:2, with Ryan responsible for all 4 of them) obviously deserve a pass for their novice standing in this year's play-offs and they fact they clearly both have a genuine future in the genuine NFL.
Warner and Donovan McNabb (a combined 3:2) can also look back on both their results and stats with a good deal of satisfaction. But the other 4 were certainly less than overwhelming, at least statistically.
And, with a Divisional Round that boasts six of the NFL's top defences (plus a newly-invigorated Cardinals 'D' and a Chargers unit that limited the high-scoring Colts significantly), there is plenty of scope for the coming weekend to supply a lot more in the way of bruises.
Stay tuned......!
I don't want to say it, but.....
Back in August I wrote a column (or two) for my View from America section on SkySports.com about the Jets' signing of Brett Favre and suggested it was a marriage of necessity that may well end up in a fairly unpleasant divorce.
Well, at the risk of saying 'I told you so...', the noises out of the Jets locker-room since their miserable conclusion to the regular season make for depressing - but predictable - reading. Back in August, I said: "If the (news)hounds smell blood, it could turn real ugly." And he would need "a generous helping of luck to see him through." I also questioned what on earth he could really add to his legacy by suiting up at such short notice for a team with serious question-marks over their pedigree. He was seriously risking his long-term reputation on a distinct short-term gamble.
Now we know much of the story. It did turn pretty ugly, especially in the wake of various negative and bitter comments from team-mates that were gleefully trumpeted in much of the media; he didn't get a whole lot of luck, especially in the second half of the season when the Jets managed to lose most of the close games; and his Hall of Fame credentials took on a distinct tarnish at such a lacklustre finish.
It was all so avoidable, too. Even without the benefit of hindsight, the Buccaneers were a better fit for him than the Jets and, with Antonio Bryant turning into such a valuable target, you feel he could definitely have got more out of a stay in Tampa than New York (of course, he would have been much better advised to have stayed in Green Bay, or not to have returned at all, but he burned those bridges fairly comprehensively).
Now, when Brett does finally, eventually and once-and-for-all call time on an immensely distinguished and character-full career, there will be a distinct element of 'So what?' and 'Really?' and 'At last!' to the inevitable journalistic farewells, an air of jaded ambivalence and almost disinterest.
And that would be a minor tragedy for a player who has provided so much pleasure, excitement and sheer devil-may-care bravura at a time when the NFL so desperately needed it.
Back in August I wrote a column (or two) for my View from America section on SkySports.com about the Jets' signing of Brett Favre and suggested it was a marriage of necessity that may well end up in a fairly unpleasant divorce.
Well, at the risk of saying 'I told you so...', the noises out of the Jets locker-room since their miserable conclusion to the regular season make for depressing - but predictable - reading. Back in August, I said: "If the (news)hounds smell blood, it could turn real ugly." And he would need "a generous helping of luck to see him through." I also questioned what on earth he could really add to his legacy by suiting up at such short notice for a team with serious question-marks over their pedigree. He was seriously risking his long-term reputation on a distinct short-term gamble.
Now we know much of the story. It did turn pretty ugly, especially in the wake of various negative and bitter comments from team-mates that were gleefully trumpeted in much of the media; he didn't get a whole lot of luck, especially in the second half of the season when the Jets managed to lose most of the close games; and his Hall of Fame credentials took on a distinct tarnish at such a lacklustre finish.
It was all so avoidable, too. Even without the benefit of hindsight, the Buccaneers were a better fit for him than the Jets and, with Antonio Bryant turning into such a valuable target, you feel he could definitely have got more out of a stay in Tampa than New York (of course, he would have been much better advised to have stayed in Green Bay, or not to have returned at all, but he burned those bridges fairly comprehensively).
Now, when Brett does finally, eventually and once-and-for-all call time on an immensely distinguished and character-full career, there will be a distinct element of 'So what?' and 'Really?' and 'At last!' to the inevitable journalistic farewells, an air of jaded ambivalence and almost disinterest.
And that would be a minor tragedy for a player who has provided so much pleasure, excitement and sheer devil-may-care bravura at a time when the NFL so desperately needed it.
Saturday, January 03, 2009
QBCL Part 12 (and Final?)
Is this the light at the end of the tunnel? The sunshine after the rain? The first signs of a glorious summer? The stats might just indicate that is the case.
After weeks of fairly consistent nondescript output from the signal-callers of the Quarterback Challenged League (otherwise known as the NFL), it looks like we have reached a watershed.
What Week 17 gave us was as follows: just 23 INTs, the fourth-lowest of the season and the lowest since Week 8 (17 interceptions); a solid 40 TD passes (the fifth 40-or-more haul this season, with three in the last four weeks); and a plus-17 TD:INT ratio, the BEST since Week 1’s plus-19.
So, we started and ended the season with the various QBs in solid form, putting up good numbers and looking in charge of their positions; it was just the 15 weeks in between that weren’t so clever!
Apart from the +19 and +17 of Weeks 1 and 17, the other best ratios were +15 (Week 5), +13 of Week 7 and the +12 of Weeks 12 and 16. However, there were six weeks of single-digit ratios, or worse, with the nadir being the dreadful -1 of Week 3. There were six weeks of 30 or more INTs, with Week 3 again being the worst culprit with a staggering 36 (albeit still well under the worst of 2007, when Week 13 realized fully 43 INTs).
There were other worrying indicators of anti-achievement along the way, notably the amazing 24 fumbles given up by the various signal-callers in Week 8. And there were still relatively few games that produced a positive ratio in overall terms. Even the relative riches of Weeks 15 and 16 still produced 15 games without a positive ratio.
Week 17 still offered another 7 games that failed to produce more TD passes than INTs, and, for the third week running, eight teams did not record a passing TD (as against just 5 ‘blanks’ in Weeks 12 and 14 and the low point of fully 15 teams in the zero column in Week 13 – talk about up and down!).
But, overall, there were far more positive performances from the maligned (at least by me) ranks of the QBCL, and that suggests a corner may just have been turned. OK, of the 40:23 Week 17 ratio, 11:2 of them came from just three teams, meaning the other 29 teams were only 29:21, or +8, but there were only a handful of genuinely dreadful QB displays (step forward Bruce Gradkowski of the utterly feeble Cleveland Browns, and, sadly, Brett Favre of the misfiring Jets).
Of the 32 teams, only Cincinnati, Detroit, Cleveland and St Louis could be said to be in a state of complete flux over who will be their QB for 2009 (although Dallas fans might well also be asking that question after another memorable December collapse).
There has been great progress in the final weeks of the season from Houston, Minnesota, Oakland, Seattle, San Francisco and Kansas City; we’ve witnessed the rejuvenation of Donovan McNabb at Philly and the near-coronation of Drew Brees (just a handful of yards short of Dan Marino’s single-season record).
There may be lingering question-marks in Buffalo (Trent Edwards just didn’t look comfortable too often), Jacksonville (where David Garrard finished only 15-13 for the season) and at the Jets (will Brett Favre even want to come back after his team-mates have been lining up to take pot-shots at him?). But, from an early-season scenario of almost half the league (actually 14 of the 32) looking in need of a change at QB, we have whittled that number down to just 4 (or 7 if we count the three queried teams).
Now we will see if this is just the silver lining on the cloud or the start of something more positive (remembering that last year’s Wild Card round produced some of the worst QB play of last season, with just 9 TD passes and a whopping 13 INTs). Is this the final installment of the QBCL for the 2008 season, or just a tiny island in a sea of mediocrity?
Let’s get going to the post-season when all will be revealed……..!
Is this the light at the end of the tunnel? The sunshine after the rain? The first signs of a glorious summer? The stats might just indicate that is the case.
After weeks of fairly consistent nondescript output from the signal-callers of the Quarterback Challenged League (otherwise known as the NFL), it looks like we have reached a watershed.
What Week 17 gave us was as follows: just 23 INTs, the fourth-lowest of the season and the lowest since Week 8 (17 interceptions); a solid 40 TD passes (the fifth 40-or-more haul this season, with three in the last four weeks); and a plus-17 TD:INT ratio, the BEST since Week 1’s plus-19.
So, we started and ended the season with the various QBs in solid form, putting up good numbers and looking in charge of their positions; it was just the 15 weeks in between that weren’t so clever!
Apart from the +19 and +17 of Weeks 1 and 17, the other best ratios were +15 (Week 5), +13 of Week 7 and the +12 of Weeks 12 and 16. However, there were six weeks of single-digit ratios, or worse, with the nadir being the dreadful -1 of Week 3. There were six weeks of 30 or more INTs, with Week 3 again being the worst culprit with a staggering 36 (albeit still well under the worst of 2007, when Week 13 realized fully 43 INTs).
There were other worrying indicators of anti-achievement along the way, notably the amazing 24 fumbles given up by the various signal-callers in Week 8. And there were still relatively few games that produced a positive ratio in overall terms. Even the relative riches of Weeks 15 and 16 still produced 15 games without a positive ratio.
Week 17 still offered another 7 games that failed to produce more TD passes than INTs, and, for the third week running, eight teams did not record a passing TD (as against just 5 ‘blanks’ in Weeks 12 and 14 and the low point of fully 15 teams in the zero column in Week 13 – talk about up and down!).
But, overall, there were far more positive performances from the maligned (at least by me) ranks of the QBCL, and that suggests a corner may just have been turned. OK, of the 40:23 Week 17 ratio, 11:2 of them came from just three teams, meaning the other 29 teams were only 29:21, or +8, but there were only a handful of genuinely dreadful QB displays (step forward Bruce Gradkowski of the utterly feeble Cleveland Browns, and, sadly, Brett Favre of the misfiring Jets).
Of the 32 teams, only Cincinnati, Detroit, Cleveland and St Louis could be said to be in a state of complete flux over who will be their QB for 2009 (although Dallas fans might well also be asking that question after another memorable December collapse).
There has been great progress in the final weeks of the season from Houston, Minnesota, Oakland, Seattle, San Francisco and Kansas City; we’ve witnessed the rejuvenation of Donovan McNabb at Philly and the near-coronation of Drew Brees (just a handful of yards short of Dan Marino’s single-season record).
There may be lingering question-marks in Buffalo (Trent Edwards just didn’t look comfortable too often), Jacksonville (where David Garrard finished only 15-13 for the season) and at the Jets (will Brett Favre even want to come back after his team-mates have been lining up to take pot-shots at him?). But, from an early-season scenario of almost half the league (actually 14 of the 32) looking in need of a change at QB, we have whittled that number down to just 4 (or 7 if we count the three queried teams).
Now we will see if this is just the silver lining on the cloud or the start of something more positive (remembering that last year’s Wild Card round produced some of the worst QB play of last season, with just 9 TD passes and a whopping 13 INTs). Is this the final installment of the QBCL for the 2008 season, or just a tiny island in a sea of mediocrity?
Let’s get going to the post-season when all will be revealed……..!
Friday, January 02, 2009
Looking back.....
OK, it's that painful time of the year when I need to look back at early September and review just how bad my pre-season predictions were; how this wildly unpredictable NFL season made a mockery of all my carefully-considered division ratings, play-off ‘contenders’ and Super Bowl picks.
Read on (but be warned it is not for the faint-hearted – or Packers or Saints fans). I scored a few decent plus points (Pittsburgh, San Diego, Arizona) but was badly off the mark in other places (Indianapolis, Houston, Dallas), and, in some cases, I didn’t so much miss the boat as end up at the wrong docks, on the wrong day in the wrong time zone.
Here we go……
AFC East: the early loss of Tom Brady was one of those things in prediction terms; the Pats definitely lost momentum in the opening weeks and finished strong but just too late. But then it gets worse. “Miami can only dream of a .500 season” quoth I. Ouch. At least I didn’t take a flyer on the Favre-bolstered Jets.
AFC North: spot on, at least, with a Steelers repeat. But another bout of sea-sickness with a tip for Cleveland as the wild card and a big fat “Pssssttthhh!” for insisting “Baltimore will go nowhere with Joe Flacco under center.” Ouch.
AFC South: at least in the same zip-code as accurate by predicting a tough time for the Colts, so-so with the Titans (“who will again be tough to beat”) but seriously in INT territory by saying the Texans “could be the surprise team of ’08.” Maybe ’09 but not even close this time.
AFC West: back in positive yardage with “it’s time for San Diego to prove their overall talent,” which they did (eventually!), and also with the following observation, “Jay Cutler still has a lot to prove at Denver.” Phew!
Brownie Points (out of a possible 8): 3.
NFC East: sorry, Dallas fans, this projection of pre-season pomp seriously put the mockers on your ’Boys: “Dallas’ sheer talent should get them to the top of the heap.” Still, at least I wasn’t the only one there – they also bought into the hype themselves, and it left them a far from pretty sight at the end. I did also win a bit of credit back with the addition of “expect Philly and the Giants to be close behind.”
NFC North: no, no, no, no! Green Bay definitely cannot “afford to be a bit smug here while their rivals flounder.” Aaron Rodgers was decent but the Packers’ D went walkabout far too often for any Cheesehead comfort zone, and my severe dissing of Minnesota’s quarterback capabilities badly rebounded on me (I was half right, perhaps, but Tarvaris Jackson returned to do the job Gus Frerotte was in danger of fumbling). Nil points, as they say in much of Europe.
NFC South: a hint of respectability once more with the suggestion that Carolina would be firmly in the mix (albeit with New Orleans, not Atlanta). But firmly back in Woeful-land with observations of Matt Ryan “running for his life for most of the year.” Double ouch. With bells on.
NFC West: at last! I can proudly reflect on a forecast of near prophetic perfection. “Seattle are in danger of becoming a shambles, San Francisco are relying on JT Who? at quarterback and St Louis have so many shortcomings it’s a wonder the country doesn’t resound to the anguished screams of impoverished head coach Scott Linehan,” (they did, but not for very long). The bold forecast for Arizona to ‘win’ the division with a .500 record was pretty close, too (of course, I meant San Diego).
Points (out of 8): 4. TOTAL: 7 out of 16
The play-off conjecture was equally painful. San Diego v Indy was a reasonable guess, just NOT as the AFC Championship game (in fact, if either one makes it that far they will have performed seriously above expectations at this point). And then the NFC title match-up of Dallas and New Orleans is just desperately cringe-worthy. Not a hint of prediction salvation in sight.
Anyone for a do-over?
OK, it's that painful time of the year when I need to look back at early September and review just how bad my pre-season predictions were; how this wildly unpredictable NFL season made a mockery of all my carefully-considered division ratings, play-off ‘contenders’ and Super Bowl picks.
Read on (but be warned it is not for the faint-hearted – or Packers or Saints fans). I scored a few decent plus points (Pittsburgh, San Diego, Arizona) but was badly off the mark in other places (Indianapolis, Houston, Dallas), and, in some cases, I didn’t so much miss the boat as end up at the wrong docks, on the wrong day in the wrong time zone.
Here we go……
AFC East: the early loss of Tom Brady was one of those things in prediction terms; the Pats definitely lost momentum in the opening weeks and finished strong but just too late. But then it gets worse. “Miami can only dream of a .500 season” quoth I. Ouch. At least I didn’t take a flyer on the Favre-bolstered Jets.
AFC North: spot on, at least, with a Steelers repeat. But another bout of sea-sickness with a tip for Cleveland as the wild card and a big fat “Pssssttthhh!” for insisting “Baltimore will go nowhere with Joe Flacco under center.” Ouch.
AFC South: at least in the same zip-code as accurate by predicting a tough time for the Colts, so-so with the Titans (“who will again be tough to beat”) but seriously in INT territory by saying the Texans “could be the surprise team of ’08.” Maybe ’09 but not even close this time.
AFC West: back in positive yardage with “it’s time for San Diego to prove their overall talent,” which they did (eventually!), and also with the following observation, “Jay Cutler still has a lot to prove at Denver.” Phew!
Brownie Points (out of a possible 8): 3.
NFC East: sorry, Dallas fans, this projection of pre-season pomp seriously put the mockers on your ’Boys: “Dallas’ sheer talent should get them to the top of the heap.” Still, at least I wasn’t the only one there – they also bought into the hype themselves, and it left them a far from pretty sight at the end. I did also win a bit of credit back with the addition of “expect Philly and the Giants to be close behind.”
NFC North: no, no, no, no! Green Bay definitely cannot “afford to be a bit smug here while their rivals flounder.” Aaron Rodgers was decent but the Packers’ D went walkabout far too often for any Cheesehead comfort zone, and my severe dissing of Minnesota’s quarterback capabilities badly rebounded on me (I was half right, perhaps, but Tarvaris Jackson returned to do the job Gus Frerotte was in danger of fumbling). Nil points, as they say in much of Europe.
NFC South: a hint of respectability once more with the suggestion that Carolina would be firmly in the mix (albeit with New Orleans, not Atlanta). But firmly back in Woeful-land with observations of Matt Ryan “running for his life for most of the year.” Double ouch. With bells on.
NFC West: at last! I can proudly reflect on a forecast of near prophetic perfection. “Seattle are in danger of becoming a shambles, San Francisco are relying on JT Who? at quarterback and St Louis have so many shortcomings it’s a wonder the country doesn’t resound to the anguished screams of impoverished head coach Scott Linehan,” (they did, but not for very long). The bold forecast for Arizona to ‘win’ the division with a .500 record was pretty close, too (of course, I meant San Diego).
Points (out of 8): 4. TOTAL: 7 out of 16
The play-off conjecture was equally painful. San Diego v Indy was a reasonable guess, just NOT as the AFC Championship game (in fact, if either one makes it that far they will have performed seriously above expectations at this point). And then the NFC title match-up of Dallas and New Orleans is just desperately cringe-worthy. Not a hint of prediction salvation in sight.
Anyone for a do-over?
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