This Isn’t Football!

Call me when the real season begins.

I’ve got football on. Hold a sec. Check that. Football off.

I like football. This is not football.

I’m sorry NBC I’m not picking on you. These games are missing all the excitement of football because they are not competitions.

Favre was pulled after one series. He went down under heavy defensive pressure. Grass stains on his tush!

If the game was tight and coming down to the wire would the starters go back in? Seriously? Why do I even use the word game?

It’s the summer. TV households are usually down. I’m sure it makes economic sense and there are people who want to watch (and certainly enough channels to set aside one), but this isn’t why I watch football.

Call me when the real season begins.

Who Ya’ Rooting Against?

Joe Buck said, “They’re down by 11 and in trouble here.” Like music to our ears

Minnesota-Vikings-Logo.gifFootball is on our TV. We are resilient, I’ll say that. The Eagles are out. We no longer have a horse in this race.

We could pick another team to root for (we will probably be happiest for the Jets), but that’s not the Fox Family way. I’m not sure it’s the American way.

No–we will spend the rest of the playoffs mainly rooting against teams! It’s so much more fun.

“I never knew I was so much of a Vikings fan,” Helaine just blurted, not knowing she was writing this blog entry for me. A Viking back had just run up the middle for a first down. Don’t ask me his name.

Other than Brett Favre I’d be hard pressed to tell you much about the Vikes. They play where people embrace the cold with their unbleached blond hair. Fans bring Miracle Whip sandwiches and milk in their wood paneled station wagons&#185.

No offense Minnesotans, we’re in this to root against the Cowboys. Blissfully, they’re being manhandled.

Joe Buck said, “They’re down by 11 and in trouble here.” Like music to our ears.

Now they’re down by 14.

Is this the same satisfaction as rooting your team to victory? No, but we love football… and hate the Cowboys.

Any port in a storm.

&#185 – OK, I’m making that part up, but I’m not being mean. It’s just my jealousy of their beauty and vigor. I hate that in strangers.

Watch The All Stars Hit Homers

It’s a trash sport, right? It’s a derivative to make money on what was on off day.

I’m on the sofa with Helaine and Stef watching the MLB Home Run Derby. It’s a trash sport, right? It’s a derivative to make money on what was on off day.

Bitch, bitch, bitch. I’m still in front of the TV.

The least interesting part of the Derby is the Derby itself. I like the back stories–the American Legion coaches invited to come back and pitch some b.p. to the superstar he helped nurture.

I like seeing the kids too. I assume those are players’ children shagging balls in the outfield. When Albert Pujols’ son sat with him early in the contest it was quite charming.

ESPN is introducing “Ball Track,” which uses “Doppler radar to track the ball off the bat and provide the following information.”

* Real-time distance the ball is traveling (from the point of impact to the final resting point);

* The path of the ball, or arch, as it travels through the air;

* Projection by using the path of the ball (in mid-flight, using a changing color pattern) whether the hit will be a home run.

This is a gimmick without the utility of the virtual first down marker used on football telecasts. The trajectory has kinks in what I’ve always expected to be a smooth path. By the time the technology decides it’s a home run I’ve aready figured it out too.

I suspect I’ll be long gone before the celebrity softball game starts.

Football Sunday

We will be on the sofa. There is assigned seating. I will be wedged in the uncomfortable curved section in the corner.

The Eagles play this afternoon. Helaine, Stef and I are die hard Eagles fans. We will be on the sofa. There is assigned seating. I will be wedged in the uncomfortable curved section in the corner.

As with any modern American family we will each have a laptop… and Stef an additional Blackberry.

This game is an unexpected pleasure. Not only had we given up on this year’s Eagles, we openly speculated whether McNabb and Andy Reid should be back. Is it too late to say sorry?

It’s like Popeye after a can of spinach. All Of a sudden everyone is fearful of the Eagles. Strange.

Teams master football the way players master golf or poker. Every once in a while you have a streak and confuse it with divine insight. Don’t be fooled. Streaks can’t last. There are bad beat in every pursuit.

Any Eagle team could be out there today. It’s my understand that’s why they still play the games.

Just Another Football Sunday

The daytime games didn’t hold much more than peripheral interest for us, though I enjoyed watching Oakland and New England play a full four quarters in heavy rain.

“I’m going to fold these jeans and leave them near the bed for tomorrow,” I told Helaine last night. “Right,” she said. “Will you even be up for the first game?”

OK–I never got out of my pajamas today. I didn’t take the camera out as I’d planned. In fact I barely made halftime before coming downstairs. I hate it when she knows more about me than I do.

We spent the day watching football on TV. The daytime games didn’t hold much more than peripheral interest for us, though I enjoyed watching Oakland and New England play a full four quarters in heavy rain.

With the Eagles way behind we’ve taken to rooting against teams hoping for entree to the NFC wild card. Lose Redskins. Lose Cowboys. Lose Atlanta. We got two of three.

“Go Giants,” Helaine said earlier today. Really? It’s come to that? How sad.

Nobody’s Perfect

Helaine is a really good person to invite to a party, because she loves to bake. And, she’s very good at it. I have, unfortunately, nibbled on her baked goodies much too often. If she baked at home under everyday circumstances, I’d weigh 400 pounds.

the_catch.jpgIn what was one of the best football games I’ve ever seen, the Giants beat the Patriots in Super Bowl something, something “L.” The Pats quest to be perfect ended.

I don’t want to dwell on the game. There are more eloquent writers who’ll fill the newspapers tomorrow. I do need to acknowledge Eli Manning’s escape from the grasp of the Patriot’s defense and subsequent complete pass to David Tyree. It was a play for the ages.

Normally, Helaine and I would sit and watch from home. This year we joined some friends, and their friends, for a Super Bowl party in New Haven.

Being in a crowd disqualifies me for much discussion of the commercials. Those I did see in the clear seemed like they were trying too hard.

Helaine is a really good person to invite to a party. She loves to bake and she’s very good at it. I have, unfortunately, nibbled on her baked goodies much too often. If she baked at home under everyday circumstances, I’d weigh 400 pounds.

We came with pecan squares, butter cookies with a jam center (these are possibly the finest cookies ever baked), rice pudding, chocolate and chocolate chip cookies and Mexican dip.

This was quite an eclectic group, mainly made of people who used to be in, or were still in, radio.

We watched the game on a big screen TV in the living room. When it got too crowded, there was another set nearby. During big plays, the people watching that auxiliary set would cheer or moan about five seconds before we saw what was going on with the big screen. There’s that much delay!

I’ve never been a huge Tom Petty fan, but they were great. No disappointment there for me.

About two thirds through the evening, one of the other guests came up to me to say he could see the body language between Helaine and me,showing how we felt about each other. That was very nice to hear. I do feel that way about her.

Now my sports world goes quiet for a short while. Pitchers and catchers report in just a few weeks.