Say Hello to my Little Cliché!

I know it's been the question TGWNA readers have been constantly asking themselves.

"What the fuck does it take to compel Diesel to actually write a post anymore?"

Good question, friends.
/Jim Nantz voice

Well, here's an easy answer: Play the fucking "respect" card.

I realize that Big C's mini-rant w/r/t the Patriots did not actually involve the word "respect," but he and I both know that it wasn't for a lack of intimation. His entire post dripped of so much respect-baiting that it shorted my computer's power supply when I read it.

I'll be more than willing to say that what the Patriots have done to this point in the season is one of the more impressive team sports accomplishments of my lifetime, ranking alongside Arsenal's undefeated 2003-04 campaign in the English Premier League, the Yankees' 1998 season, the Red Sox's comeback against the Yanks in 2004, and the Chicago Bulls' 1995-96 season. And I'm willing to say that with or without a win in the Super Bowl, since I'm not very concerned with worrying about whether or not this Pats team is the greatest in the history of the sport (while I can see why others are into this argument, the lack of objective reference points makes it simply a point of conjecture ... there is no way to properly compare football across eras, as far as I know).

That said, the Patriots as currently constituted, are a blight on the NFL. Their coach, a brilliant tactician for sure, is also a cheating boor who believes — like too many transcendent sports figures — that his talent and ability allow him to exist in a realm where condescension and surliness are acceptable characteristics for a public figure (see footnote). The team's star wide receiver is probably a sociopath who has the audacity to claim that the fawning sports media is somehow out to paint him as something he is not, when he has received more free passes for intolerable behavior both on and off the field during his career than all but a select few peers, regardless of sport. And the team as a whole has copped the same, tired "us against the world" shit pretty much since the beginning of its multi-year run of league domination, despite the fact that it's clear the world has been anything but against them for quite some time. My love of Leonard Cohen aside, I prefer my entertainers to be a little less monotone, and those who claim persecution to have an actual basis for the accusation.

As for the fans, what can be said about them that hasn't already been said about paranoid schizophrenics off their medication? I remember, faintly, being somewhat satisfied when the Patriots beat the despicable Rams in Superbowl XXXVI, and when the Sox mounted sports' most improbable comeback against the Yankees. But those days are long gone, and any conception of New England-area fans as somehow being "lovable" seem ridiculous now. When people ask me why I really don't have steadfast affiliations with teams any longer, I point to the guy in the Red Sox hat who acts in precisely the same manner as his "hated" Yankees cohorts. I am loathe to be associated, in any form, with the type of person who believes that the justifiable reaction to a win by his favorite team is to try and start a fight in the bar with all the "haters."

I could probably slag on the Pats and Pats fans for another 1,000 words (who am I kidding? I could probably do it for 10,000 more words), but it's neither important nor original at this point. What I'm wondering — and this isn't rhetorical, Big C — is who the fuck cares what anyone says about the Patriots? Why does a superlative team of accomplished veterans feel the need to trot out the stupid "bulletin board" shit that bad high school coaches have relied on for decades? Why do the fans require the acquiescence of all those in attendance every time "his" team's supermodel-impregnating quarterback continues to prove he's worthy of the plaudits handed out with alarming frequency by analysts? Since when did anything matter to the fans of a team more than on-field success? Do you really need a fucking hug in addition to your fourth Superbowl win?

I've long considered a need for constant affirmation to be a sign of weakness, particularly on the part of men. Those who claim to be dedicated to any cause should lack a need for approval. Those who claim to be better than others shouldn't need those others to admit as much, particularly when there are organized and regulated contests at hand to allow for some objective measure of the claim. And those who are claim millions to ply their trade shouldn't allow themselves — at least publicly — to admit that they still require more in the way of appreciation to feel like they've truly accomplished something.

The Patriots, and their fans, have come to embody everything that makes sports and its fans appear so puerile. The real "haters" are the scores of right-minded people who see the sociology of sports as a disturbing and collective softening of brains. Here we are debating the level of respect given to whiny, spoiled athletes and an equally whiny and spoiled fanbase that somehow thinks its entitled to some modicum of special treatment they've never afforded to others (lest we forget the "Jeter Swallows" shirts that have been extremely popular in the uncomfortable seats of Fenway for some time). I'm all for a good sports debate, even if it doesn't adhere to the same strict intellectual rigor I attempt to apply to arguments of outside interests. Hell, I'm even fine with some good, old-fashioned mindless taunting, as evidenced by my ownership of a "Jesus Hates the Yankees" shirt. Sports are a diversion, if not an opportunity for those of us no longer blessed with more than a geriatrics's range of motion to live and play vicariously through athletes. And fandom is an opportunity to identify one's self with a specific group, for the purposes of pride and differentiation. I do not begrudge anyone his or her rooting interests, nor the success(es) of his or her favorite team(s).

But it will be a cold day in hell before I think there's any reason to give the Patriots special consideration because they're excellent at football. I will not tip my cap, genuflect at the altar of Belicheck, or condemn representatives of the '72 Dolphins for sounding like perspectiveless brats when dissing another group of perspectiveless brats. I will simply hope that whomever coaches the Bills will adopt some of Belicheck's strategic approach without acquiring his willingness to be a reprehensible asshole, and proceed to beat the ever-loving shit out of that franchise for the next decade.

Yes, I do hate the Patriots, because they and their fans make me extremely aware of what a base pursuit being a fan of sports is, and what kind of company one should expect to keep if he wants to watch football in a bar on Sundays. I hate that sports writers have cheapened the word "genius" in the process of reporting on Belicheck. I hate the idea that Randy Moss is being given a relative free pass on a serious charge because commentators are more concerned with how this issue might effect the team than the individuals involved in the alleged assault. I hate the fact that every time Tom Brady has an irregular stool it leads ESPN.com.

But, more than anything, I hate all the "respect" talk. And if that makes me a bad sports fan, or whatever, then I'll happily take my sour grapes home with me and dine with Mercury Morris.

# # #

Footnote: Bill Belicheck is a cheater; I don't think this point is arguable. Despite his, and Big C's, claim that the camera issue isn't worth talking about any longer, it still constitutes a breach of NFL rules and was clearly carried out to gain a material advantage in an otherwise fair contest. Furthermore, while Belicheck was only caught cheating during the Jets game, it's entirely likely that he had cheated in that same fashion during other contests.

Belicheck is also a Grade-A son of a bitch. He is the very image of a modern-day athletic megalomaniac, right down to his unwillingness to abide the most basic rules of the league that's made him famous, as evidenced by his violating the league's standards for coaching attire and his constant fucking around with the injury report.

Barry Bonds is all of these things as well: Cheater, flouter of the rules, son of a bitch.

The main difference is how the men are perceived: Bonds as a pariah, Belicheck as a genius with flaws. The prime example of this double-standard is the way Bob Costas, one of the most respected figures in the sports media, approaches the two men. When the subject is Bonds, Costas can barely disguise his contempt. When the subject is Belicheck, however, Costas chooses to focus on the coach's accomplishments and overlook his personality deficiencies.

I don't really care to examine why this double-standard exists, only to point out that it does and is further proof that the Patriots are given an easier ride than most N.E. fans would have you believe, particularly by the media.

Cleaning house

Sean Taylor
It appears the cops are fairly resolute on this being a non-premeditated murder, which I suppose makes much of the speculation — mine included, featured right below this post — appear hasty and flat wrong.

OK.

I'm not going to apologize for what I said because I still feel there's logic behind it. Readers will, by this point, be familiar with my love of William of Occam, and his fine razor. The simplest answer, in this case, was that Sean Taylor's off-the-field history likely played a role in his eventual demise. I agree with many critics of the media's coverage that attempting to draw conclusions about Taylor — as a person, or in regard to his demise — based on his on-field behavior reeks of prejudice, and not necessarily in the racial sense (though it would be foolish to say that's absolutely not the case, either). But I disagree with those crowing "See! I told you so!" to those who stated the obvious in the early days after his death, which is that Taylor had a history of being both the alleged victim and perpetrator of gun violence. And that's not even getting into the break-in a week prior, the remnants of which involved what can only be construed as a threat of violence. I'll be curious to see how that situation is ultimately reconciled by investigators when it's all said and done, if it's to be reconciled at all.

I'm also going to say this — and I know I'm likely to catch shit for it — before being done with the matter of Taylor's death: I still have trouble buying it. It would make perfect sense for the perpetrators to represent their crime as a burglary gone bad, as a lack of premeditation serves as a mitigating circumstance when it comes to murder. Of course, it's not just the perps saying this; I would like to believe the police wouldn't simply buy into what's been confessed and leave it at that. But without getting all conspiracy theorist on everyone here, if this is a coincidence, it's a hell of a coincidence. And I'm not the only person who thinks so. But that's also largely irrelevant, so I'll leave it at that.

There are a ton of other issues that Taylor's death has brought up, however, w/r/t black athletes, the perception of black athletes by the media and fans, and the fairly shocking mortality rates for young black men that Taylor's death has suddenly made everyone aware of. I'm not going to pretend I'm capable or willing of attacking all with the correct gravity right now, but maybe I'll break them up and tackle them another day. I am going to say this, however: If you believe that race isn't an issue, you are allowing your desires to cloud your perception of reality. Race is not only an issue, it might be the issue. And I don't see why acknowledging that, or talking about it, is met with shouts, because it's that reaction that guarantees the "race isn't an issue" people will continue to be very, very wrong. I'm not saying everyone has to agree on the conclusions, only that the argument is worth having.

The Patriots
Two sub-par performances in a row against teams that strain to be considered mediocre (unless we're actually willing to grant that the Eagles' and Ravens' performances against the Patriots suggest that, perhaps, they're better than just mediocre ... perhaps they've been unlucky?). But, still, two wins. And what's surprising to me is that, amid the speculation and desire to assign the 2007 Patriots a legacy despite the presence of, potentially, seven more games to go, everyone seems to have forgotten how fucking hard it is to win a football game in the NFL.

That statement can serve as an age-old truism — I mean, there's a reason there's been one undefeated team in the history of the league, and that team had one of the weakest schedules in the league that season — or you can make it specific to this era. It's difficult to describe to people who haven't been exposed to the inner workings of a professional or college football team just how staggering the technology at the disposal of coaches is in the modern era. The days of the single game tape are long gone; teams have the opportunity to dissect teams using the standard two cameras (one sideline, one end zone) operated by the home team at each game, television tapes and advance scouting reports in addition to the sheer volume of information that fans have access to as well. There are no secrets in football anymore, especially when it comes to schemes. To top it all off, coaches generally spend about 80 hours planning for each game, which would cause one to expect some advancement in approach against a particular opponent as the season wears on.

The Patriots, at some point, were going to have these kinds of games. I'm a little surprised that they came in a pair, but the timing shouldn't really be a concern. Nor should the opponents; while the Eagles and Ravens are well on their way to incredibly disappointing campaigns, they're not the Dolphins, either. Both teams schemed well in an effort to exploit their strengths and the Pats' weaknesses. Both had the Pats on the ropes. Both looked like they might pull it off.

And they didn't.

I have no idea what's going to happen for the rest of this season, which is why I'm willing to wait before making any affirmative statements about the Pats' "greatness." But I will say this: If New England wins out, regardless of margins of victory of heart palpitations on the part of Tony Kornheiser, they're the greatest team in the history of the NFL. But I really have trouble believing that's going to happen. It's just too hard.

On instant replay
Twice this week, games with big playoff implications were decided by questionable calls. The Packers lost because of a pass interference call that cost them close to 50 yards that appeared to be a case of tangled feet, which does not constitute pass interference. The Browns lost when Kellen Winslow was ruled out-of-bounds on a game-tying touchdown reception, despite the fact he was clearly forced out of bounds.

The pass interference call wasn't reviewed, because you can't review pass interference. The Browns' touchdown was reviewed, but not to determine if it was a force-out, because that's not reviewable either.

What bullshit.

We're told that those plays aren't reviewable, because they're "judgement calls." The same goes for field goal tries, holding, and facemask penalties. What distinguishes these plays from non-judgement calls is not readily apparent to me. Does the term suggest that the definitions of the infractions are highly subjective? If that's the case, those definitions should be reconsidered. But I think we all know they're not subjective, they're just difficult to call consistently. And that makes sense; being a football official is very difficult, and expecting robot-like precision on the part of human beings is foolish. With all due respect to Seahawks fans, bad or missed calls are not indicative of anything more than human fallibility.

But doesn't the presence of instant replay indicate an implicit acceptance on the part of the NFL that referees might get it wrong sometimes, and that there should be a mechanism in place to allow aggrieved teams the benefit of an opportunity on the part of officials to correct their errors? I think that's a reasonable conclusion. And if that's the case, then shouldn't the most difficult calls to make be made available to a second look?

I sense that the league is afraid that including pass interference on the list of reviewable plays will somehow expose officials to scorn, or even worse expose the league's rules definitions as being more subjective than what constitutes obscenity. I guess it's nice to see that the colossus of American sports is so damn sensitive.

The hot stove
I know everyone's talking about Santana, but isn't that getting old (plus, he's not going anywhere)? No, the real story is that the smart teams are jumping in early and swinging high-risk, high-ceiling deals before the market gets further inflated at the Opryland Hotel bar. The Padres' signing of Randy Wolf is precisely the kind of free agent deal that mid-market teams have to make if they're going to stay competitive; the only way Wolf will end up being highly paid is if he earns the money. Yeah, I know, the Padres have an advantage because of PETCO when it comes to signing pitchers, but it has less to do with the specifics of this deal than it does the approach. The only "bargains" to be had are on players with red flags, as evidenced by the Nationals' swindling of the Mets and Rays for Lastings Milledge and Elijah Dukes, in addition to the aforementioned Wolf signing.

(Quick note on Dukes: If you think this was a bad deal, then you're confusing baseball with the National Honors Society. Dukes is a talented player who's done some bad stuff, on the field and off. He threatened the life of his girlfriend, which is reprehensible for sure. But he's not in jail for it either, which means he's still eligible to have a career. If you think Dukes should be punished for his transgressions, complain about the justice system, not baseball)

But I think the really interesting story is that its looking very likely that the Padres will lock-up Jake Peavy long-term. Peavy's willing to cut the Pads a discount — he'll likely make less annually that Carlos Zambrano — comes in return for a no-trade clause, which is understandable. And while I've often bemoaned long-term contracts for pitchers, I'm starting to soften a little when it comes to the elite guys. Peavy's on a very short list of hurlers who are near-mortal locks to be among the best five starters in the majors on a yearly basis, and while it's dumb to expect that he'll be anywhere close to this dominant in 2013, he should still be well above-average barring significant injury. And while the "significant injury" caveat isn't insignificant, it's probably not significant enough to make deals like these prohibitive any longer. At some point in time, you've got to take your shot, even if you acknowledge that the odds aren't the most desirable. Peavy's not only one of the pre-eminent players in the game, he also happens to play for a team whose best pitching prospect (Will Inman) projects to be a No. 3 in a perfect world. I happen to think that the Twins should strongly consider giving Santana the money he wants as well — this is a fairly recent conclusion for me as well — but the situation for the Twins and the Padres aren't exactly analogous. The Twins could afford to lose Santana, even without a massive return in a trade, because they are flush with pitching prospects and have Francisco Liriano returning from Tommy John surgery. The Padres, on the other hand, don't have anyone all that great coming up through the system, which means that Peavy's value to the team is even higher.

Guys like me are often accused of ignoring the forest for the trees when it comes to stuff like this, and I think that's fair criticism. I hate the idea of teams — particularly teams I like — signing irrational contracts, and those belonging to free agent starters are most often deserving of that particular epithet. In my perfect world, you would always have enough talent on the farm to allow free agents to walk, because free agents are almost always too expensive. But in an imperfect world, you have to accept that there are times when too much isn't really too much. Peavy's expensive, and if he gets hurt it will be a massive blow to the franchise's ability to compete. But it would probably be an even bigger blow to not have him, which means it's a deal you have to make.

They Aren't What They Think They Are

You can come out of Sunday night's game and do what most people are doing, and continue to fellate the Patriots while slapping the Birds on the back for their moral victory, losing by only three to the Greatest Team In NFL History, Ever, quarterbacked by Tom He Just Plays Like a Champion (that's his Indian name). It's easy to do that, if it's the only Eagles game you've watched this year. It's easy to buy the idea that this is a good franchise that can sneak up on anybody, even the mighty, peerless Patriots.

Well, that's bullshit. I'll tell you what I take from the game: the Pats are not that good.

Let's get it out of the way now: how good is that good, exactly? They're the best team in the NFL this season. That's it. I'm sick of hearing all this other hype. I'm not convinced this year's Pats are the best team I've seen in the last three years, or in the salary cap era, or even that they're better than the '04 Pats. I've only followed the NFL for about 15 years, only really followed it for about ten, and they're not even close to the best team I've seen, much less the best ever. Who is? More on that later.

For now, let's discuss what happened last night. Not that you heard any of this from the announcers or studio analysts, but here's what happened. The Patriots went to the wire with a team that:

1. Was .500 going into the game, both this season and over the last three seasons combined. For those of you who remember the 2004 Eagles, know that this is not that team. This is not a good football team. This is a team that got embarrassed by the Cowboys and Giants this year. This is a last-place team.

2. Was playing on the road, in late November, in one of the hardest places to play in football.

3. Started A.J. Feeley at QB. Yeah, he played well, spectacularly except for a few bad throws -- even if those throws did cost them the game. But he's had enough NFL starts -- 20-ish -- to show exactly who he is and who he isn't. He isn't an NFL-caliber starting QB. Ask the Dolphins. And he spotted them 7 points right off the bat on a horrendous throw. A guy who's been starting all season doesn't come out and throw that ball on the third play. Now, I'm not saying Donovan McNabb would have won this game -- he wouldn't have, and there's no doubt in my mind, but that's a whole different post. Only that a pretty mediocre quarterback started in his place.

4. Started one third-string safety who was out of the NFL a few weeks ago (and got hurt during the game), and another who's 34 and banged up, against the best passing attack in the league. Both starting safeties dropped crucial interceptions that should have been caught pretty easily.

5. Was coached about as poorly as could be, offensively. The defensive game plan was great, and although I'm sick of Jim Johnson and his constant blitzing, the three-man front was brilliant. The no-huddle four-wide would have shredded a lot of defenses. But Reid and Morninwheg pulled all their usual bullshit, burning timeouts they'd need later, and -- in a move that would have given me a coronary if I weren't already expecting it, because I've seen the same thing so many times -- they called a deep pass pattern on the final drive, when the only reasonable gameplan in the world would have been to run the ball or throw short passes for two minutes and go for the tying field goal. Feeley made a bad throw -- LJ was open short -- but he never should have been put in that position.

6. Did not force a turnover, unless you count the turnover on downs when the Mastermind decided to go for it and the Second Coming threw a duck. Usually when a team loses to a lesser team, turnovers are the reason: a few freak fumbles, Eli Manning's three pick-sixes against Minnesota. The Pats dominated the turnover battle, including a pick-six two minutes in, and still barely won.

7. Got a grand total of 92 yards from its best player. That's 60 less than Westbrook has averaged on the year. It would be much more understandable if the Eagles were close because Westbrook blew up, but he was not much of a factor.

All that, and the Best Team Ever still needed a few breaks to win by three? Get the fuck out of here. A couple of things go the other way -- that inexplicable fourth-down offsides by the Eagles, which led to the Maroney TD; if one more safety was healthy, the Birds wouldn't have had linebackers on Welker all night; if they catch even one of those picks; if Feeley throws only one baffling interception to Samuel instead of two -- and the Eagles win.

(So right about now is when some of our faithful commenters accuse me of making excuses for the Eagles. But that's not what I'm doing here -- if I was going to do that, I'd mention how Brady false-started all game, stepping back and ducking his shoulders in an oft-successful attempt to draw offsides, but never got flagged for it, or how that Gaffney TD would have been reviewed if any other team in football scored it, or how, if you watch that fourth-down offsides again, it looks like a false start. But I'm not going to do that.)

What I'm saying is that there's a reason the spread was the biggest ever. The Eagles are a mediocre, banged-up team, and the Pats had looked like a great one all year. It was in Foxboro. The Pats had nobody injured going in. A historically great, healthy team at home against AJ Feeley? It should have been a massacre.

Except it wasn't, because the Pats aren't that great. Brady got rattled under pressure -- not that much pressure, either -- and started airmailing receivers or throwing what should have been interceptions. They dropped a ton of passes. Moss got jammed at the line and frustrated into irrelevance. Stallworth was invisible. They have no running game. Their linebackers can't cover for shit, so the middle was wide open all day. Their D-line couldn't get to Feeley. Their kicker missed an easy field goal.

So what? The Pats still won, right? Yeah, they did. And maybe winning -- even if it's close, even if it takes a little luck -- is the mark of a champion (barf). But I just don't want to hear it anymore about the fucking 2007 Patriots being the best team ever. The team I saw tonight wasn't even close to the early '90s Cowboys, as much as it pains me to use that hated franchise as a reference point. Or the Steve Young Niners. Those teams didn't need to play their best game -- no turnovers, a defensive TD, no key penalties -- to beat shitty teams at home.

The Pats' flaws were exposed today, and they are few but significant. They have no real running game. They have a bunch of geriatric linebackers who can play a mean fullback and tight end but can't cover anybody. Brady is human if you can ever get pressure on him (which rarely happens, because they have a great O-line, not that you'd ever hear it in all the Tom Brady fluffing). Outside of Asante Samuel, their secondary is pedestrian. Their D-line doesn't get much push. And if Brady sees pressure like he did tonight, you could be looking at Matt Cassell under center. He's been lucky so far, but look around the NFL and see how many starting QBs are hurt. One play could end all this history talk real quick. (Are you listening, Ray Lewis?)

If the Pats run the table this year, that says more about the sorry state of the NFL than it does about their greatness. I don't see it happening. If the Steelers or Giants don't get them, they'll still have to face a Colts team that ought to be healthier by then.

Either way, they're not the best team ever. Last night's game made that pretty clear.