And now this week's edition of The NFL In So Many Words, the Blob feature of which Mr. Creosote has said "(Bleep) you, I'm full," and the Black Knight has said "Come back here and take what's coming to you!"
(Because if the Cleveland Browns aren't a Monty Python skit, who is?):
1. Speaking of the Browns, they did NOT intentionally booger up the A.J. McCarron deal.
2. "Nah, we were just stupid," Browns vice president of football operations Sashi Brown said.
3. (Or words to that effect.)
4. In other news, the New York Football Giants!
5. (Sorry. Just going for more laughs there.)
6. Carson Wentz for President!
7. (I mean, come on. He's gotta be smarter than What's His Name.)
8. Meanwhile, Ezekiel Elliott!
9. Is having the greatest season for a suspended guy ever!
And last but not least ...
10. Jacoby Brissett for President!
Tuesday, November 7, 2017
Monday, November 6, 2017
The glory of choreography
It's easy these days to bash the NFL, because, well, it's the NFL. Market saturation and a bland, corporatized product has turned it, too often, into the football version of a visit to the dentist.
But here's one thing the Shield got right: It relaxed the restrictions on end-zone celebrations.
The No Fun League apparently got tired of being called the No Fun League, and so, like the soulless corporate entity it still is, it decided to mandate the return of fun. ("OK! You can have fun now!" one imagines Roger Goodell saying, rather sternly.) Thus the return of choreographed group celebrations in the end zone, and thus the return of the one thing that's actually still, well, fun about the NFL.
And so here, a few weeks back, were the Seattle Seahawks celebrating a score by playing an impromptu game of Duck, Duck, Goose in the end zone. And here was someone else, apparently in an homage to the baseball playoffs, celebrating with a pantomime of a pitcher pitching and a batter hitting a home run. And here, last night, were the Kansas City Chiefs celebrating a Travis Kelce TD by pantomiming a sack race.
Which Kelce won, of course, as the guy who scored the touchdown.
What gray, dour soul could possibly not love that?
But here's one thing the Shield got right: It relaxed the restrictions on end-zone celebrations.
The No Fun League apparently got tired of being called the No Fun League, and so, like the soulless corporate entity it still is, it decided to mandate the return of fun. ("OK! You can have fun now!" one imagines Roger Goodell saying, rather sternly.) Thus the return of choreographed group celebrations in the end zone, and thus the return of the one thing that's actually still, well, fun about the NFL.
And so here, a few weeks back, were the Seattle Seahawks celebrating a score by playing an impromptu game of Duck, Duck, Goose in the end zone. And here was someone else, apparently in an homage to the baseball playoffs, celebrating with a pantomime of a pitcher pitching and a batter hitting a home run. And here, last night, were the Kansas City Chiefs celebrating a Travis Kelce TD by pantomiming a sack race.
Which Kelce won, of course, as the guy who scored the touchdown.
What gray, dour soul could possibly not love that?
Sunday, November 5, 2017
That distraction thing. Again.
So James Franklin thinks his Penn State Nittany Lions, losers now of two in a row, have succumbed to that coaching favorite, the mighty D-word, the D-stroyer of seasons, the D-stabilizer of equilibrium and focus and all that hoo-ha.
We speak, of course, of the dreaded Distractions.
Distractions, Franklin says, are what ultimately tripped up the Nittany Lions in the fourth quarter at Ohio State and in the last second at Michigan State, and he is on the warpath against them. This week, he vows, his players will be turning off their phones. They will be turning off Herbie and Corso on ESPN. They will even be turning off (gasp!) the Big Ten Network -- which will fall as heresy on the ears of commissioner Jim Delany, whose commitment to squeezing every last penny out his Power 5 cash cow led to the Big Ten Network to begin with, and then to the East Coast markets of Big Ten outliers Maryland and Rutgers.
Not to get distracted by the topic of distractions or anything.
Listen. The Blob has made its position clear on distractions before, which is that they largely are mythical beasts. They are the invention of coaches desperately seeking reasons for why their kids sometimes show up flat -- or, in this case, not flat, simply not good enough on a particular day to win.
That's what happened to the Nittany Lions the last two weeks, if you strip away all the noise about distractions. They led Ohio State on the road until the final minutes before wearing down in the face of relentless defensive pressure from the Buckeyes' supreme down seven. And they were right there with a 7-2 Michigan State team until the last play of the game, when a field goal beat them as time expired.
This does not sound to me like a team whose heads were filled with the frothy praise of Herbie and Corso. It does not sound to me like a team so obsessed with (as they used to say in the old days) its press clippings it forgot how to block and tackle and throw and catch.
Maybe you can say that about Ohio State, which followed up its big win with a 55-24 laydown at Iowa. But the Nittany Lions lost two roadies to two good teams by a total of four points. Somehow the Blob doubts mooning over their 7-0 start or No. 2 ranking played much of a role in either.
But that's just me.
We speak, of course, of the dreaded Distractions.
Distractions, Franklin says, are what ultimately tripped up the Nittany Lions in the fourth quarter at Ohio State and in the last second at Michigan State, and he is on the warpath against them. This week, he vows, his players will be turning off their phones. They will be turning off Herbie and Corso on ESPN. They will even be turning off (gasp!) the Big Ten Network -- which will fall as heresy on the ears of commissioner Jim Delany, whose commitment to squeezing every last penny out his Power 5 cash cow led to the Big Ten Network to begin with, and then to the East Coast markets of Big Ten outliers Maryland and Rutgers.
Not to get distracted by the topic of distractions or anything.
Listen. The Blob has made its position clear on distractions before, which is that they largely are mythical beasts. They are the invention of coaches desperately seeking reasons for why their kids sometimes show up flat -- or, in this case, not flat, simply not good enough on a particular day to win.
That's what happened to the Nittany Lions the last two weeks, if you strip away all the noise about distractions. They led Ohio State on the road until the final minutes before wearing down in the face of relentless defensive pressure from the Buckeyes' supreme down seven. And they were right there with a 7-2 Michigan State team until the last play of the game, when a field goal beat them as time expired.
This does not sound to me like a team whose heads were filled with the frothy praise of Herbie and Corso. It does not sound to me like a team so obsessed with (as they used to say in the old days) its press clippings it forgot how to block and tackle and throw and catch.
Maybe you can say that about Ohio State, which followed up its big win with a 55-24 laydown at Iowa. But the Nittany Lions lost two roadies to two good teams by a total of four points. Somehow the Blob doubts mooning over their 7-0 start or No. 2 ranking played much of a role in either.
But that's just me.
Saturday, November 4, 2017
Stating the obvious
Two nights ago, for, like, the 1,457th Thursday night in a row, I did not watch the NFL's Thursday night game.
Not a down. Not a snap. Couldn't have cared less if it had been Thursday Night Readings of John Stuart Mill instead of Thursday Night Football.
This puts me on the same side of the fence with the Bills' Richie Incognito, which frankly unnerves me. Incognito says Thursday games suck. He says they're just a cash grab and take the wind out of the NFL's windy pronouncements about how much they care about player safety. He says, in so many words, that football at the NFL level is not a sport in which a mere three days between games are enough.
I hate to agree with Richie Incognito, who remains an incorrigible rockhead and bully. But he's dead-on right here.
Thursday night football is nothing but a callous cash grab. And it's hurting the product besides.
That's the latest meme now from the media, which has suddenly decided one of the NFL's problems is there is simply too much NFL. Both the Wall Street Journal and Sports Business Journal have written about it. Deadspin has written about the WSJ and SBJ writing about it. The NFL is, apparently, overexposed.
Here's the thing about that: It's not something that just happened.
Fact is, there's been too much NFL for awhile now, because for nearly 365 days of the year you can't get away from it. It's not just the fall, when the NFL is on the box from 1 p.m. to 11 p.m. on Sundays, again on Monday night, again on Thursday night, and (once the calendar clears Thanksgiving) again on Saturday. And now that the league is sending its product to London on a semi-regular basis, Sunday mornings aren't even free of the Shield.
(About that: Why do the NFL poobahs insist on believing that England gives a tinker's damn about American football? Do they really think Brits are going to quit Arsenal vs. Man City on Sundays to watch the Browns and the Vikings? And if you're trying to showcase your product, why in God's name are you sending the Browns?)
Anyway ... it's not just all those games. It's that sports media is obsessed with the NFL even when the games aren't being played. A sportswriter friend of mine once quipped that ESPN's programming consisted of the NFL, the NFL Draft, NFL training camps and LeBron James. He wasn't far off the mark.
So, yes, the NFL is suffering from market saturation. People simply don't need a football fix every 30 seconds or so. And when you throw college football, which now plays on every day of the week except Sunday and Monday ... well, it's pretty obvious. That's just too much football.
(Although I have to say, I spend a lot more Saturdays sutured to my couch than Sundays. This is because college football is far, far better than pro football, because there are actual historic rivalries in college football, and every week there are huge games that actually matter. The NFL has no true rivalries anymore. And so there are no single games that inspire true passion during the long slog of the regular season. Cowboys-vs.-Redskins ain't the Iron Bowl or Army-Navy or the Red River Shootout, no matter what the league's broadcast partners try to tell you.)
Look. Hugely successful corporate entities like the NFL almost always make the same faulty assumption, which is that if playing twice a week has made them hugely successful, playing four times a week will make them even more hugely successful. It hardly ever works out that way; in fact, eventually it causes the hugely successful corporate entity to implode more often than not.
That probably won't happen to the NFL, mind you. But making people wait from Monday night to Sunday for your product?
That would be a solid business decision. Which is why it won't happen.
Not a down. Not a snap. Couldn't have cared less if it had been Thursday Night Readings of John Stuart Mill instead of Thursday Night Football.
This puts me on the same side of the fence with the Bills' Richie Incognito, which frankly unnerves me. Incognito says Thursday games suck. He says they're just a cash grab and take the wind out of the NFL's windy pronouncements about how much they care about player safety. He says, in so many words, that football at the NFL level is not a sport in which a mere three days between games are enough.
I hate to agree with Richie Incognito, who remains an incorrigible rockhead and bully. But he's dead-on right here.
Thursday night football is nothing but a callous cash grab. And it's hurting the product besides.
That's the latest meme now from the media, which has suddenly decided one of the NFL's problems is there is simply too much NFL. Both the Wall Street Journal and Sports Business Journal have written about it. Deadspin has written about the WSJ and SBJ writing about it. The NFL is, apparently, overexposed.
Here's the thing about that: It's not something that just happened.
Fact is, there's been too much NFL for awhile now, because for nearly 365 days of the year you can't get away from it. It's not just the fall, when the NFL is on the box from 1 p.m. to 11 p.m. on Sundays, again on Monday night, again on Thursday night, and (once the calendar clears Thanksgiving) again on Saturday. And now that the league is sending its product to London on a semi-regular basis, Sunday mornings aren't even free of the Shield.
(About that: Why do the NFL poobahs insist on believing that England gives a tinker's damn about American football? Do they really think Brits are going to quit Arsenal vs. Man City on Sundays to watch the Browns and the Vikings? And if you're trying to showcase your product, why in God's name are you sending the Browns?)
Anyway ... it's not just all those games. It's that sports media is obsessed with the NFL even when the games aren't being played. A sportswriter friend of mine once quipped that ESPN's programming consisted of the NFL, the NFL Draft, NFL training camps and LeBron James. He wasn't far off the mark.
So, yes, the NFL is suffering from market saturation. People simply don't need a football fix every 30 seconds or so. And when you throw college football, which now plays on every day of the week except Sunday and Monday ... well, it's pretty obvious. That's just too much football.
(Although I have to say, I spend a lot more Saturdays sutured to my couch than Sundays. This is because college football is far, far better than pro football, because there are actual historic rivalries in college football, and every week there are huge games that actually matter. The NFL has no true rivalries anymore. And so there are no single games that inspire true passion during the long slog of the regular season. Cowboys-vs.-Redskins ain't the Iron Bowl or Army-Navy or the Red River Shootout, no matter what the league's broadcast partners try to tell you.)
Look. Hugely successful corporate entities like the NFL almost always make the same faulty assumption, which is that if playing twice a week has made them hugely successful, playing four times a week will make them even more hugely successful. It hardly ever works out that way; in fact, eventually it causes the hugely successful corporate entity to implode more often than not.
That probably won't happen to the NFL, mind you. But making people wait from Monday night to Sunday for your product?
That would be a solid business decision. Which is why it won't happen.
Friday, November 3, 2017
Just a few fleeting thoughts
Because sometimes even the Blob can't turn off its brain.
("You have a brain?" -- The Blobophiles, all two of them).
Here goes:
Why was Deshaun Watson even practicing anyway? (Tip o' the cap to Allen Iverson for that one). He's thrown a gazillion touchdown passes in, like, six games, and the Texans are playing the Colts. Think practice had already made perfect in this instance.
Speaking of the Colts, they've finally done what everyone in the known universe knew they were eventually going to have to do and turned off the clock on Andrew Luck (two years too late, but still). Which likely means something else everyone in the known universe knows: The clock is now running in earnest on Chuck Pagano.
So Papa John says his business is suffering because the NFL won't violate the constitutional rights of those awful, "disrespectful" football players. Wonder if it's ever occurred to him that his very public support for a hugely unpopular president might have something to do with that instead.
And on that note, said president, our only available one, dressed in some sort of stars-and-stripes getup for Halloween. Speaking of disrespecting the flag.
And finally ...
If the sports media poodles wringing their hands over the "Cavs struggles" five months before the NBA actually matters had been running the United States during the Civil War, the Union would have surrendered after the first battle of Bull Run and there would still be a Confederacy. Which means all those people whining about monuments would have to find something else to whine about.
("You have a brain?" -- The Blobophiles, all two of them).
Here goes:
Why was Deshaun Watson even practicing anyway? (Tip o' the cap to Allen Iverson for that one). He's thrown a gazillion touchdown passes in, like, six games, and the Texans are playing the Colts. Think practice had already made perfect in this instance.
Speaking of the Colts, they've finally done what everyone in the known universe knew they were eventually going to have to do and turned off the clock on Andrew Luck (two years too late, but still). Which likely means something else everyone in the known universe knows: The clock is now running in earnest on Chuck Pagano.
So Papa John says his business is suffering because the NFL won't violate the constitutional rights of those awful, "disrespectful" football players. Wonder if it's ever occurred to him that his very public support for a hugely unpopular president might have something to do with that instead.
And on that note, said president, our only available one, dressed in some sort of stars-and-stripes getup for Halloween. Speaking of disrespecting the flag.
And finally ...
If the sports media poodles wringing their hands over the "Cavs struggles" five months before the NBA actually matters had been running the United States during the Civil War, the Union would have surrendered after the first battle of Bull Run and there would still be a Confederacy. Which means all those people whining about monuments would have to find something else to whine about.
Thursday, November 2, 2017
Magnificent riddle
And this is why baseball is great, because nobody knows nuttin'. It's easier predicting the weather, or whatever mad spew comes next from Our Only Available President. Even those noted authorities up in the pressbox frequently are flummoxed.
So here we were on the first night of November, and the Blob, a card-carrying Noted Authority alum, kept wagging its shaggy head as the Astros changed pitchers the way a seasoned commuter changes trains.
"You watch," I told my wife, Julie, with the score standing at 5-1 Houston. "Eventually the Astros are gonna find a pitcher the Dodgers can hit. That manager's gonna outthink himself."
About that time Charlie Morton rung up another batter.
A delighted laugh from Julie.
"The best part about watching baseball with you is realizing you don't know any more than I do," she said, or words to that effect.
And I don't. Nobody does. Which is why baseball is great.
Consider: After all the hijinks in this World Series, all the baseballs flying out of ballparks and the insane Home Run Derby of Game 2 and insane-r Home Run Derby of Game 5, the Astros rode their arms to their first World Series title last night. They yanked their starter, Lance McCullers, in the third even though he was doing fine, and then they ran out Brad Peacock for awhile and then Francisco Liriano for one batter and then some guy named Devenski for one batter.
Finally they brought out Charlie Morton, who'd lost 6-2 to the Dodgers in Game 4.
Morton pitched the last four innings. He gave up one earned run on two hits. And the Astros won it for Harvey-battered Houston, won it for all those Astros fans who remember the old Colt .45s and lived through the Era of the Technicolor Yawn unis, which was quite an Era to live through.
No Home Run Derby this time. No late-inning heroics. Just four pitchers who weren't Clayton Kershaw or Justin Verlander giving up three hits across the last 6 2/3 to nail it down for the 'Stros.
And now the Blob remembers something else it said last night, much earlier, while discussing the upcoming Game 7 with a friend.
"You know what's great about baseball?" I said. "You can't predict it. Whoever wins tonight, you can almost guarantee someone you least expect will decide it."
Well, I was half-right. Series MVP George Springer, whom everyone had heard of, was one of the guys who decided it. But the other guy who decided it was Charlie Morton, who came to the big moment last night with a career ERA of 4.41 and a career record of 60-78.
Not last night, though. Last night, for four innings, he was Christy Freakin' Mathewson -- or perhaps Nolan Freakin' Ryan, who once pitched for the Astros himself.
Who knew?
And how awesome is that?
So here we were on the first night of November, and the Blob, a card-carrying Noted Authority alum, kept wagging its shaggy head as the Astros changed pitchers the way a seasoned commuter changes trains.
"You watch," I told my wife, Julie, with the score standing at 5-1 Houston. "Eventually the Astros are gonna find a pitcher the Dodgers can hit. That manager's gonna outthink himself."
About that time Charlie Morton rung up another batter.
A delighted laugh from Julie.
"The best part about watching baseball with you is realizing you don't know any more than I do," she said, or words to that effect.
And I don't. Nobody does. Which is why baseball is great.
Consider: After all the hijinks in this World Series, all the baseballs flying out of ballparks and the insane Home Run Derby of Game 2 and insane-r Home Run Derby of Game 5, the Astros rode their arms to their first World Series title last night. They yanked their starter, Lance McCullers, in the third even though he was doing fine, and then they ran out Brad Peacock for awhile and then Francisco Liriano for one batter and then some guy named Devenski for one batter.
Finally they brought out Charlie Morton, who'd lost 6-2 to the Dodgers in Game 4.
Morton pitched the last four innings. He gave up one earned run on two hits. And the Astros won it for Harvey-battered Houston, won it for all those Astros fans who remember the old Colt .45s and lived through the Era of the Technicolor Yawn unis, which was quite an Era to live through.
No Home Run Derby this time. No late-inning heroics. Just four pitchers who weren't Clayton Kershaw or Justin Verlander giving up three hits across the last 6 2/3 to nail it down for the 'Stros.
And now the Blob remembers something else it said last night, much earlier, while discussing the upcoming Game 7 with a friend.
"You know what's great about baseball?" I said. "You can't predict it. Whoever wins tonight, you can almost guarantee someone you least expect will decide it."
Well, I was half-right. Series MVP George Springer, whom everyone had heard of, was one of the guys who decided it. But the other guy who decided it was Charlie Morton, who came to the big moment last night with a career ERA of 4.41 and a career record of 60-78.
Not last night, though. Last night, for four innings, he was Christy Freakin' Mathewson -- or perhaps Nolan Freakin' Ryan, who once pitched for the Astros himself.
Who knew?
And how awesome is that?
Wednesday, November 1, 2017
Irish rising, Part Deux
And so ... let the backlash begin.
You know. The Oh, Here We Go, More Notre Dame Hype backlash.
The first College Football Playoff poll is out, and there were some mild surprises, the least mild among them that the Irish -- 4-8 a year ago, 7-1 with essentially the same bunch of gomers now -- came in at No. 3. That was a surprise. But only a kinda-sorta surprise.
Allow me to explain.
Allow me to explain, once again, that there is such a thing as an eye test, and this Notre Dame team, unlike so many in the past, passes it. It is a team, as has been noted, that is not just squeaking by the usual run of Pitts and Boston Colleges and Armys. It is a team that is absolutely crushing everyone -- beating them up physically, on both of sides of the football, the way a Notre Dame team hasn't since it last won a national title 28 years ago.
The Irish beat a better-than-decent North Carolina State team by three touchdowns last Saturday, a week after beating an OK-but-not-great USC team by 28. They have beaten everyone they have played by at least 20 points, except for a one-point loss to Georgia -- and Georgia, correctly, came in at No. 1 in the first CFP poll, bumping Alabama to No. 2 mainly because Alabama hasn't played anyone who's anyone.
And so it would be Georgia, Alabama, Notre Dame and Clemson in the playoff if it began today, and you've got to like ND's chances to stay in the top four. Unlike the rest of the top four, it has no conference championship game to play (and risk losing). All it has left are a decent Wake Forest team, a decent Navy team, a decent Stanford team, and a roadie against an unbeaten Miami team.
It could lose at least one of those, particularly the Miami game. But three decents and a better than decent (Miami) is not exactly a nightmare gantlet, especially for a team that's been chewing up and spitting out decents all season. And so the Blob is starting to entertain the heresy that Notre Dame is going to win out.
It could be wrong, of course. It has frequently been wrong about Notre Dame. But somehow it feels different time.
Remember those words.
You know. The Oh, Here We Go, More Notre Dame Hype backlash.
The first College Football Playoff poll is out, and there were some mild surprises, the least mild among them that the Irish -- 4-8 a year ago, 7-1 with essentially the same bunch of gomers now -- came in at No. 3. That was a surprise. But only a kinda-sorta surprise.
Allow me to explain.
Allow me to explain, once again, that there is such a thing as an eye test, and this Notre Dame team, unlike so many in the past, passes it. It is a team, as has been noted, that is not just squeaking by the usual run of Pitts and Boston Colleges and Armys. It is a team that is absolutely crushing everyone -- beating them up physically, on both of sides of the football, the way a Notre Dame team hasn't since it last won a national title 28 years ago.
The Irish beat a better-than-decent North Carolina State team by three touchdowns last Saturday, a week after beating an OK-but-not-great USC team by 28. They have beaten everyone they have played by at least 20 points, except for a one-point loss to Georgia -- and Georgia, correctly, came in at No. 1 in the first CFP poll, bumping Alabama to No. 2 mainly because Alabama hasn't played anyone who's anyone.
And so it would be Georgia, Alabama, Notre Dame and Clemson in the playoff if it began today, and you've got to like ND's chances to stay in the top four. Unlike the rest of the top four, it has no conference championship game to play (and risk losing). All it has left are a decent Wake Forest team, a decent Navy team, a decent Stanford team, and a roadie against an unbeaten Miami team.
It could lose at least one of those, particularly the Miami game. But three decents and a better than decent (Miami) is not exactly a nightmare gantlet, especially for a team that's been chewing up and spitting out decents all season. And so the Blob is starting to entertain the heresy that Notre Dame is going to win out.
It could be wrong, of course. It has frequently been wrong about Notre Dame. But somehow it feels different time.
Remember those words.
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