I happen to like Peyton Manning, so I wasnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t rooting for the Saints on Sunday. But watching them celebrate on the field, watching the fans celebrate back in New Orleans, it became apparent how much they mean to so many people. And I started to think about what their victory means to me.
I wanted to write something about the Super Bowl because, well, itÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s the Super Bowl. I was thinking some predictions and whatnot, maybe a little analysis thrown in for good measure. But IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ve immediately hit a brick wall.
The problem is that this can tend to sort of be a niche site, and football isnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t really a part of my niche. If this were the Super Bowl of horror movies, or the Super Bowl of high school basketball Ã¢â‚¬â€œ which, uh, IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m actually going to next week Ã¢â‚¬â€œ then I wouldnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t have a problem. But itÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s not. ItÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s the Super Bowl of football.
Here are some reactions to this weekendÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s football action, a little belated because of a rare vacation to the Jersey Shore, where I didnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t actually have Internet access. As such, I missed out on a lot of people complaining about the MetsÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ inability to sign Jon Garland, of all people. It was bliss.
IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ve always been a radio guy, dating back to my high school days of calling the WFAN overnight shows, which actually provided a distinct preview of my sleeping habits later on. I later had the privilege of hosting my own sports and heavy-metal music shows Ã¢â‚¬â€œ I was far better with sports given that I actually know very little about heavy-metal music.
HereÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s my weekly look at the weekÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s football action. IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ll reiterate as always that I donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t claim to have any particular insight into the game itself.
As has become my usual policy, I took in the early games at HoulihanÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s, a stoneÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s throw from Giants Stadium. IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ve become quite a fan of their Ã¢â‚¬Å“tuna wontons,Ã¢â‚¬Â and itÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s a laid back way to go out to watch the games without dealing with a bunch of screaming maniacs.
Right after the 1 p.m. games ended, I noticed an enormous man who looked markedly like Lawrence Taylor across the bar. When I got a little closer, there was no question that one of the greatest football players of all time had shown up at my new Sunday haunt, fresh off receiving an ovation at the 50-yard line at his former teamÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s final game at Giants Stadium.
Here are my thoughts after another Sunday spent at HoulihanÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s, which was once again a good time Ã¢â‚¬â€œ the tuna wontons continue to deliver, and they actually remembered from two weeks ago what beer I preferred and told me to Ã¢â‚¬Å“come back soon.Ã¢â‚¬Â I believe I just may be ready to make the jumpÃ¢â‚¬Â¦ to regular. Stay tuned.
With players getting bigger over the years as conditioning and science dictate, and the crushing hits getting ever more debilitating, the days of one running back carrying the mail have wound down Ã¢â‚¬â€œ with a few notable exceptions. (Basically just Chris Johnson, who avoids contact by breaking untouched touchdown runs all the time, and Adrian Peterson)
The Atlanta Falcons are a perfect example of why.
Lots to talk about this week. LetÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s get right into it.
As the Saints and Colts chase perfection, theyÃ¢â‚¬â„¢re doing it in a different fashion than the Patriots two years ago, and thatÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s probably a good thing, as theyÃ¢â‚¬â„¢re experiencing adversity.
After a one-week respite, letÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s get this party started. Hope all had an excellent holiday weekend.
Back in the day, before I had a job that caused me to work most Sundays and get up not before 1 in the afternoon, Football Sunday had a tremendous meaning in my week. Namely, it was a day I could completely devote to the supreme American pastime of drinking beer, eating fried foods at a sports bar and immersing myself in an entire day of watching overgrown men crash into each other. I started this tradition in high school Ã¢â‚¬â€œ minus, of course, the beer.
Of course, times change. As I said, I generally work on Sundays, and I sometimes get up after the games actually begin. I rarely drink, and itÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s even more rare that I eat fried foods. I generally donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t like watching sports with loud fans around me. And it had been several years since I had given over nearly an entire day to watch football.
IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ll be honest, football took a real back seat for me over the weekend behind boxing and basketball. But letÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s give it a go. Consider this one to be Ã¢â‚¬Å“two afternoons after.Ã¢â‚¬Â As a result, short update this week.
When someone whoÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s generally regarded as an unlikable genius makes a decision that simply doesnÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t work out, the natural instinct is to jump all over the opportunity to pan him. ThatÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s exactly what happened to Bill Belichick this past Sunday.
IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m here to tell you that I had no problem with his decision to let The Great Brady attempt to complete a two-yard pass to win the game on 4th and 2. I thought it was the right move.
Here are my thoughts on the weekÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s football games after a busy weekend Ã¢â‚¬â€œ hope all had an excellent Halloween. (Mine was pretty stellar)
I donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t like writing about what everyone else is, but what can I say about Brett Favre? IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ve lamented in the past that IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m sick of the guy, and that I donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t think he can get the job done anymore. I may have to back off at least one of those stances.
HereÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s my weekly look at the weekendÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s football games. Remember: I donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t claim to actually know anything substantive about the sport.
A few years back, Peyton Manning and Tom Brady were the unquestioned kings of a sport in which quarterbacks are put on a pedestal. They were two golden gods with golden arms, leaders of men that handled thundering herds of massive men with a deft sidestep and a flick of their powerful wrists.