Unplugging Momentum

Sports analysts and fans love to debate the importance of momentum.  Whether discussing hitting in baseball, shooting in basketball or passing in football, people love to talk about "streaks" and how certain players and teams seem to sometimes find a rhythym that makes them appear nearly unstoppable.  At the same time, others have argued that there's no such thing as momentum in sports, and have some pretty compelling data to prove it.  As with many sports debates, the discussion about momentum is one of anecdotes vs. data.  On one had, you have a plethora of academic papers and statistical analyses saying that momentum doesn't really exist.  And on the other hand, you have last night's Blackout Bowl.

It shouldn't come as a surprise to most of you that I side with the stats geeks on the whole momentum debate.  When you dig into the data, it's pretty clear that hot streaks are bound to happen based on the principles of statistics, and that just because a QB has completed 10 consecutive passes (for example) doesn't mean that he's "hot" and thus more likely to complete his next one.  I often refer to a simplified, yet relevant, example based on flipping a coin:  Imagine everyone in the world flipped a coin, with anyone who flipped a heads moving on to the next round while everyone who flipped a tails was eliminated, until only one person was left.  Eventually, someone would be the last person standing - it would take around 33 consecutive heads to do it - and be proclaimed the Coin Flipping Champion of the World.  Obviously, this person isn't "good" at flipping heads - it's just statistical probability that, out of six billion people, someone would flip 33 straight heads.  The same can be said of momentum in sports.

One of the reasons that even ultra-rational people like myself love sports, though, is the way that certain games can make you question what you know to be the truth.  Last night, the Ravens were rolling over the 49ers and seemed en route to a Super Bowl blowout when the Mercedes-Benz Superdome lost power.  After a 34 minute delay, the Ravens looked tight, tentative and tired while San Francisco seemed recharged, almost pulling off one of the most stunning come-from-behind victories in Super Bowl history.  There's no logical reason to think that the blackout would have slowed Baltimore's momentum or benefitted the Niners more than the Ravens, and yet while watching the game I couldn't help but think that maybe "fate" had knocked the power out and given Colin Kaepernick and Co. a chance to get back into the game.

Of course, the analyst in me recognized that, after a terrible first half, the game was due for some regression to the mean - allowing the 49ers to climb back into the contest and do to Baltimore exactly what the Ravens had done to San Francisco for the first 35 minutes of playing time.  Whereas every big play went Baltimore's way in the first two-plus quarters - from some big passes to Jacoby Jones' 108-yard kickoff return for a touchdown - San Francisco was bound to pull off a few huge moments of its own in the second half.  The fact that the turnaround coincided precisely with the loss of power in the Superdome was purely coincidence, and luckily the Ravens held on and spared us all from weeks of having to hear about how a power surge in New Orleans decided the Super Bowl for Baltimore and San Francisco.

As a rational person, this is what I'm forcing myself to believe.  Although I will admit that last night's Super Bowl momentum shift was pretty bizarre, and thus maybe makes the momentum debate worth having for just a little while longer.

Preparing for Super Bowl Sunday

Truth be told, I'm not a huge fan of the Super Bowl.  While I've been fortunate enough to have experienced two Giants Super Bowl victories in the last five years, I spent those games watching with a close group of blue-clad New York fans, focusing on the action as actively as I would any other big game.  When the Giants aren't in the big game, however, it's been a whole different story.  In those years I've elected to do what any good American is supposed to do on Super Bowl Sunday - go to a party with friends, pretend to watch the game and leave with more memories of the the E-Trade baby than of the game itself.

For the most part, I'm fine with this.  I spend the fall and winter watching dozens of NFL and NCAA football games, so it's not like I'm desperate for gridiron action.  I also realize, and on some level appreciate, the fact that the Super Bowl is much more than a sporting event - it has evolved into a pseudo national holiday that brings people together for not only a football game, but for a halftime show, a handful of clever (and a ton of not-so-clever) ad campaigns and some Papa John's pizza.  I actually enjoy Super Bowl parties the most when there's virtually no talk about football - like most normal-ish people I like to see friends, eat some wings and socialize, and the NFL's championship game is as good a reason as any to get people together.

Ironically, it's the football part of any Super Bowl Sunday that frustrates me the most.  For the same reason that I really dislike going out on New Year's Eve - every restaurant and bar is filled with a ton of people who haven't been out in a year, can't control themselves and turn things into Amateur Night - I take issue with Super Bowl parties.  For too many guys in particular, the Super Bowl is the one time a year to try to impress their buddies and girls with their knowledge of NFL football.  The problem with these guys is that 90% of them have no idea what they're talking about.  Of course, there's nothing wrong with not following the NFL (OK, there's something a little wrong with it, but nothing overly serious), but I draw the line at having to listen to these "fans" spend four hours spewing incorrect football-related information.

In my experience, the types of Super Bowl Sunday B.S. fall into three main categories.  The first, and least offensive, is what I call the "Ridiculous Opinion."  While everyone's entitled to their own opinion, of course, no real football fan wants to hear some meathead argue that Joe Flacco is a Top Five quarterback.  The Ridiculous Opinion is often (although not always, if you're lucky) followed up with some "Terrible Logic," the second type of Super Bowl nonsense: "Of course Joe Flacco's a Top Five QB - he's the quarterback of one of only two Super Bowl teams, isn't he?"  If a debate follows the Terrible Logic, you're likely to move into the third and most infuriating phase - the "Imaginary Statistic."  Despite the presence of a roomful of internet-connected devices with fact-checking ability, you're bound to hear someone quote a stat that's completely false.  What better way to settle the Flacco debate than to note that Flacco had the third most completions in the NFL this season, even if it's not true?

For us real football fans, it's tempting to get involved in these arguments.  It often seems like a good idea to refute a Ridiculous Opinion, break down some Terrible Logic and correct an Imaginary Statistic.  Take it from me, though - it's not worth it.  There's no way to win one of these patented Super Bowl Sunday arguments with a faux-fan, because the normal debate skills like intelligence, knowledge and rationality won't help you.  If you want to give yourself a chance at enjoying Super Bowl Sunday, ignore the football and go for the food and the friends.  And if you feel compelled to evesdrop on some conversation, you'd be best off listening to what the E-Trade baby has to say.

Avoiding Controversy

Earlier on Wednesday, Kansas City Chiefs head coach Romeo Crennel announced that quarterbacks Matt Cassel and Brady Quinn would compete to be named the starting signal caller going forward.  Since the announcement, basically everyone in the world seems to agree that this is an absolutely awful decision.  Amazingly, even coach Crennel himself acknowledges that having his two top QBs compete for the starting gig is likely to result in disaster:

"It is distracting," Crennel said. "Everybody's wondering who the guy's going to be, and all those kind of things. Then what happens, some guys on the team kind of favor one guy over another guy. Even though everybody's got a job to do and they will do their job. But it is a distraction."

My question: Why does everyone out there (including the guy who made the decision) seem to think that this is such a bad choice?  Through six weeks of the 2012 NFL regular season, the Chiefs are 1-5 and, in the eyes of many (myself included) are the worst team in the entire league.  They're coming off a week where they lost 38-10 to a mediocre Tampa Bay team (2-3) in a game that Quinn wasn't actually that bad (Cassel was ruled inactive after injuring himself the previous week).  Whereas a jolt of some sort seems in order, most people are calling for Crennel to make a semi-arbitrary starting QB selection and just stick with it.  Nevermind that his team might not win another game for the remainder of the year.  Apparently, the negative ramifications of a QB controversy are so severe that you'd rather stick with one guy and lose than roll the dice a little bit and improve your chances of winning.

Cassel or Quinn?  Shouldn't the decision be based on who plays better?

As fans, are we expected to believe this?  As rational people, are we supposed to just accept the fact that a quarterback battle should be avoided at all costs because "some guys on the team kind of favor one guy over another guy" or because "everybody's wondering who the guy's going to be?"  I'm lucky to have been raised a New York Giants fan, so I haven't had much QB controversy experience as of late (and with Eli Manning playing well and seemingly getting better, I don't anticipate confronting what Chiefs fans are going through for at least a while longer).  But if my favorite team was 1-5, I don't think I'd be shying away from a QB battle.  I think I'd be willing to try any reasonable measures to improve a team that just lost by four touchdowns to the Buccaneers.  NFL fans shouldn't have to accept subpar quarterback performances just because a positional battle might get a little "messy."

I understand that quarterbacks are the leaders of their offenses, and that in a perfect world you want a steady and confident presence under center to run the show.  I also understand, however, that the Kansas City Chiefs and their fans are not living in a perfect world right now.  Instead of pretending that everything is good and convincing themselves that either Matt Cassel or Brady Quinn is definitively the man for the job, shouldn't the Chiefs coaches let both guys play until one of them emerges as the better candidate?  We see running backs and wide receivers compete for playing time regularly, even for high-performing teams.  Haven't the Chiefs reached the point where they owe it to their players and fans to have Cassel and Quinn do battle on the field?  Good for Romeo Crennel for throwing his top two QBs into the proverbial ring.  Now if only he could have done it with a little more conviction and a little less apologizing.

Admitting When You're Wrong

It's not very often that I write about the same topic twice in one week, but the NFL referee issue has reached the point where I feel that I owe my readers some sort of apology.  Earlier this week, I posted about how I felt all of the complaining about football's replacement referees was overblown, accusing the media and fans of "[building] up the issue so much that there was no way the replacement officials could succeed, even though if the story wasn't so overblown the majority of NFL fans probably wouldn't have known anything was different."  While many agreed with my point of view, others (including friend and fellow blogger The Backup QB) insisted that the replacement officials had lost control of the games.  After watching Week 3 of NFL football from a sports bar (where I could follow every game at once) and then tuning in to the end of Monday Night Football's disasterous conclusion last night, it might be time to admit that I was wrong.

The more football I watch this season, the more questionable calls I see.  I still believe that fans are more cognizant of officiating screw ups this year - with the replacement refs on the field and everyone looking for something to go wrong, inevitably something will - but I have to admit that I can't imagine that some of the more aggregious officiating blunders would have occured had the real refs been officiating the games.  Where I think I really went wrong, however, was in failing to acknowledge that the fact that the replacement refs have completely lost control of the games has become a serious issue.  I can't ignore it any longer: in every game the refs seem to have no confidence in their calls (even the correct ones), which has lead to constant chatter between the players / coaches and the officials.  As a result, you never know whether a given call was unbiased or whether it was dictated by a previous comment.  Now that the players and coaches have zero respect for the officials, you can't help but make the refereeing the focal point of every single game.  We've reached the point that the majority of mainstream media stories about the NFL are focusing on the refs, and that's not good.

At the beginning of the referee labor dispute, everyone acknowledged that the NFL had the upper hand because the officials had no leverage - as I said myself earlier this week, "I don't tune in on Sunday afternoons to see them call penalties or flip the coin."  Now?  I think you can argue that the refs aren't the only ones who have lost control of the NFL games.  The National Football League itself must acknowledge that having the majority of its media coverage revolving around how much its replacement officials are messing up is a serious problem.  The NFL has been a marketing juggernaut because it has been so successful in keeping people focused on its strengths - loyal fan bases, a constant influx of young talent and competitive balance - and away from it's flaws - concussions, periodic labor disputes and off-field player issues.  While at first the referee lockout might have been a welcome diversion from the bad PR the NFL had been getting around concussions, now the replacement officials have taken over the entire sport.  Things have gone too far.

Even if getting the regular refs back on the field won't have a profound impact on the outcomes of the games (and I'm not sure if they will or won't at this point), the NFL needs to resolve the referee lockout before the issue threatens to seriously and permanently damage the league's reputation.  I have to image that the heads of the referees union are thrilled right now - from their points of view, things have gone perfectly.  Whether or not you think the replacement refs are making the right calls, you have to recognize that they are by far the biggest story in the NFL right now, and that is a terrible outcome for professional football.  After this past weekend, I'm joining the majority of people calling for the NFL to do whatever it takes to end this labor dispute.  I'm man enough to admit that I was wrong.  Now it's time for the NFL to do the same.

NFL Network Fumbles

In addition to criticizing officials, fans love to mock TV announcers and analysts.  Having very little sports media experience (I dabbled with a little sports radio in college and, at one point, co-hosted a weekly Pardon The Interruption-style show called Time Out), I try not to give TV personalities an overly tough time.  After all, I'm sure their jobs are harder than they look, and live TV is very unforgiving.  That being said, these people are supposed to be professionals, so I expect some reasonable quality standards from them.  This is particularly true in football, where announcers have an entire week to prepare for a game and plenty of down time to get their acts together.  After that lengthy preamble, let me get to my point - last nights Giants vs. Panthers broadcast on NFL Network was one of the least professional televised sporting events I've ever seen.

Now, I'm not really talking about the quality of the analysis, so I'll cut the broadcast team of  Brad Nessler and Mike Mayock some slack even though they a) praised Cam Newton after everything he did, despite the fact that he played pretty terribly and helped put his team in a massive first half whole, b) seemingly went out of their way to continuously note what a great job the officiating crew was doing (they were admittedly solid), as if the league office was demanding that they do so and c) confidently picked the Panthers to win the game during the pre-game show.  After all, these things happen, and it's not like I tune in to a Thursday night Giants game to hear what the NFL Network crew has to say.  All I ask is that information about the game is presented clearly and accurately.  This, sadly, did not come even close to happening.

First of all, I lost track of the graphics errors midway through the second quarter.  Luckily, I was texting back and forth with my brother throughout the game, so I have a written record of some of NFL Network's many screwups.  At one point during a Giants drive, after New York RB Andre Brown finished a great run, a graphic came up on the bottom of the screen announcing that Mike Tolbert had 1 carry for 16 yards.  Not only are Andre Brown and Mike Tolbert not the same person, they're not even on the same team.  When the Giants kicked a field goal in the second quarter to go up 20-0, NFL Network went to commercial with the score listed as 17-3.  Throughout the broadcast, the announcers would use the yellow pen function to draw on the field - unfortunately, most of the time the broadcast switched camera angles while they were drawing, rendering the arrows and circles they sketched completely incomprehensible and sometimes hilarious.

The mistakes weren't limited to the visuals, however.  At one point, Giants TE Bear Pascoe caught a pass, but Nessler claimed that Martellus Bennett made the grab.  This mix-up might be understandable if not for the fact that Bennett is black and Pascoe is super-pale; no one who had ever watched the Giants play before could possible confuse these two guys, and the shot of the play was a nice closeup where you couldn't miss Pascoe's bare, white arms.  After one of Cam Newton's few decent passes, the announcers praised the nice throw . . . by Eli Manning.  Again, Eli Manning and Cam Newton don't often get confused for one another - and after praising Newton the entire game for doing basically nothing, Mayock ironically messed up his name the one time he threw a half-decent ball.

In a game where the halftime report was taken over by a tribute to NFL Films President Steve Sabol, who passed away earlier this week, NFL Network did absolutely nothing to honor his legacy (as my brother accurately, and somewhat hilariously at the time, pointed out via text).  As I mentioned earlier this week, I'm not in love with the Thursday Night Football concept in general - I like having games concentrated on Sunday afternoons as much as possible, not to mention the fact that the quick turnaround prevents injured players from healing in time for the game.  But if the NFL is going to insist on hosting a mid-week game on its network, they have to improve the quality of the broadcasts.  If not for the presence of the HD cameras everywhere (one of which was too close to the field and as a result lacerated Antrel Rolle's knee), I would have thought I was watched a high school game on puclic access. 

Overblown Call

Today's ESPN.com homepage is covered in stories about the NFL's replacement referees, and the general consensus seems to be that they're doing a pretty terrible job.  Ashley Fox has written an article about how the refs ruined Monday night's contest between Denver and Atlanta.  Tim Keown claims that the replacement officials are endangering players by failing to call enough late hits and head shots.  Chris Mortensen reports that the players and coaches are fed up with the current set of refs, and are desperate for the NFL to settle its dispute with the regular officials and restore order to National Football League officiating.  My question: When was the last time any journalist, player or coach said that the officials were doing anything other than a horrible job?

 The NFL replacement referees have become an easy target for media outlets like ESPN.com.

I'm not arguing that there haven't been some blown calls through the first two weeks of the NFL season, and Monday night's debacle might have been the worst of all.  But if I think back on the last few football seasons, I recall constant bitching from pretty much everyone about the officials.  Either they're calling too many personal fouls and ruining the integrity of the sport, or they're not calling enough late hits and helmet-to-helmet contact and putting player safety at risk.  I can remember numerous times when the permanent referees blew judgement calls, failed to properly enforce the rules or mismanaged the clock.  Ripping apart the refs is a big part of sports - not just football - and until we have an entirely automated officiating system that removes human error from the equation, that isn't going to change.

In my opinion, the replacement referees had giant bullseyes on their backs from the day the officials lockout commenced.  Players, coaches, journalists and fans alike treat the NFL as if it's life or death, and any change to their beloved professional football is sure to be criticized.  From the day the NFL announced that the regular refs wouldn't be on the field for Week 1, every football-loving person in America was looking to tear the replacements apart.  The media built up the issue so much that there was no way the replacement officials could succeed, even though if the story wasn't so overblown the majority of NFL fans probably wouldn't have known anything was different.  Sure, people would complain about the refs - and the familiarity of those complaints would only serve to reinforce the (incorrect) belief that nothing had changed.

Like any other NFL fan, I want the officials to impact the game as little as possible and believe that the game should be left in the hands of the players and coaches.  I've watched enough football (and sports in general), though, to acknowledge that officiating controversies are a huge part of the game (just ask Armando Galarraga).  I have nothing against the NFL's regular referees, but I don't tune in on Sunday afternoons to see them call penalties or flip the coin.  Overall, I think the replacement refs have done an adequate job so far, and I don't really think having the old officials back will materially change the NFL fan experience at all.  Once the referee lockout ends, NFL fans and media pundits will just have to find someone else to complain about.

Don't Dilute Sunday

Sundays in the fall are a special weekly tradition, much like the sabbath for sports worshippers like me. The ability to find a TV equipped with the Sunday Ticket package (any sports bar or DirecTV-subscribing household should do) and watch more than a half a dozen NFL football games at once is unlike any other professional sports-watching experience, and is rivaled only by the NCAA basketball tournament (and that's only a few weekends a year). While I'm not really a sports bar kind of guy, I still loving sitting at home on Sunday afternoon and watching the Giants on FOX, some of the Jets on CBS and whatever other game the networks might be showing, all while getting in-game updates from the studio. Sunday is a day for football, and I love the way so much action is concentrated into one six or seven hour span.

I'm guessing that most NFL fans view Monday Night Football (MNF) and the newly-added Thursday Night Football (TNF) as fantastic additions to the weekly football schedule. After all, spreading games out across the days of the week gives fans more opportunties to watch football. Now fans don't have to wait an entire week to see NFL teams in action - no longer do we have more than a three-day span without an NFL game. Rather than pretending that we're interested in the NHL because there's nothing else to do, now we can spend Sunday watching football, Monday watching MNF, Tuesday dissecting MNF, Wednesday previewing TNF, Thursday watching TNF, Friday dissecting TNF, and Saturday previewing the Sunday games while watching college football. This has to be viewed as a good thing for football-loving fans, right?

I don't agree. Sure, it's nice having a mid-week game to watch, especially if it's a good one like tonight's Chicago vs. Green Bay matchup. But I see a number of problems with this revised scheduling. One, it asks a lot of the NFL players to play on a Thursday after a Sunday, and also creates a lot of long layoffs for teams that play on Thursday and then don't have another game until the following Sunday. Similarly, it wreaks havoc on fantasy football - it's much harder to set lineups efficiently when you have to make key decisions on Thursday afternoon, and forces diehard players like me to spend Friday and Saturday agonizing over scores that never used to exist. It's bad enough that many games are decided on Monday night - the addition of Thursday night games effectively quadruples the length of each weekly fantasy game from one night to four.

Most significantly, though, I'm worried that the Thursday night game might set a precedent that could, over time, erode the specialness of Sunday afternoon football. What's to stop the NFL from breaking up its schedule and having games during each night of the week, selling a nightly package to the highest bidder ("It's Tuesday Night Football, only on FX!") and rendering the Sunday afternoon sports bar experience a thing of the past?  While Thursday Night Football might be a big revenue opportunity for the NFL and it's NFL Network, the league should be careful and avoid spoiling a large part of what has made football the nation's most popular sport.

Player Interviews: The New Cliche

After Norfolk State upset Missouri in the "second" round of the NCAA tournament last month, I felt compelled to note how impressive center Kyle O'Quinn's post-game interview was.  In reality, it wasn't that O'Quinn's chat with TNT's Craig Sager was so special; more than anything, the Spartans star's words were just different from what we hear day in and day out from 99% of professional and collegiate athletes.  By now, post-game sports interviews have become completely cliche.  Players always fake humility by thanking God and their coaches for giving them the opportunity to succeed.  They always claim to take each game "one at a time," and not to put more emphasis on wins over a rival or a top team - "a win is a win," after all.  And of course, the players could never have done it "without the help of their teammates."  At this point, we might as well have a voice actor record a few interviews and automatically play them after each game to save everyone some time.

But what about off-season interviews?  Before the 2011 NFL campaign began, Eli Manning practically set the sports world ablaze by proclaiming that he felt he was an "elite" quarterback.  At the time, it was the only truly acceptable answer to the now-famous question posed by ESPN Radio personality Michael Kay: "Is Eli Manning an elite quarterback, are you a top-five, top-ten quarterback?"  Regardless of how good you think Eli Manning is (although I'll argue that, in hindsight, he was certainly right about his elite status), you'll likely agree that there was no way that Eli could have said that he didn't think he was elite.  Players get paid based on performance, yes, but confidence certainly helps.  No one wants an insecure quarterback leading their offense. So in light of this, what do we make of Baltimore QB Joe Flacco's recent quote?

"I mean, I think I'm the best. I don't think I'm top five, I think I'm the best. I don't think I'd be very successful at my job if I didn't feel that way. I mean, c'mon? That's not really too tough of a question.  That doesn't mean that things are going to work out that way. It just means that's the way it is -- that's the way I feel that it is and that's the way I feel it should be."

Clearly, Joe Flacco's assertion is false.  While Eli Manning had a case for proclaiming that he was a top-five or at least top-ten quarterback, no one outside of Joe Flacco's living room would ever genuinely argue that the Delaware product is the best QB in the NFL.  Flacco seems like a smart guy, too, so we have to assume that even he knows that his statement is wildly off base.  So the question then is: Why did he say it?  Most likely, he felt the power of the interview cliche; he knew that teams, coaches and fans want a confident QB, so he figured he'd give them one (in his own shaky, meek sort of way, at least).  He got asked an impossible question -  "where he thinks he ranks among NFL quarterbacks," according to ESPN.com - and did the best he could with it.

I don't blame Flacco for saying something absurd (and, yes, I think what he said was crazy), however.  Instead, I blame the media and the fans.  First, I blame the media for asking these boneheaded questions.  Maybe it's time what we stop asking athletes where they think they rank among the competition.  At this point, the rule of the sports interview cliche mandates that players say they think they're the best or among the best.  If we know what the player's answer is going to be, then why ask the question?  There's no reason to fly off the handle every time an Eli Manning or a Joe Flacco says he thinks he's the best quarterback in the NFL.  Second, I blame the fans.  How is this a popular news story?  I realize I'm as guilty as anyone here, given that I'm blogging about Flacco this week, but why do we care about how good Joe Flacco says he thinks he is?  As long as fans continue to consume lazy media content about self-proclaimed rankings, journalists are going to continue to write about it.  If we must obsess ourselves with ranking things, let's leave it to somewhat objective experts and stop asking players what they think of themselves. 

Good for Goodell

When people talk about the current commissioners of professional sports leagues, most of the attention is usually focused around either Bug Selig or David Stern.  After all, the commissioners of MLB and the NBA have brought the most significant changes to their sports during their reigns - Selig has helped develop the Wild Card, the link between the All Star Game and home field advantage in the World Series, and the World Baseball Classic, while Stern has brought the NBA to China, commercialized All Star Saturday Night, and most recently navigated the league through yet another lockout.  People don't talk much about the NFL's Roger Goodell, though.  Other than occassionally causing a stir by fining or suspending someone, Goodell for the most part lets the NFL do what it does best - attract fans and make money - and I think he deserves more credit than he typically gets.

Today, for example, ESPN.com reported that Goodell has been dissatisfied with recent iterations of the NFL Pro Bowl, and was quoted as saying "We're either going to have to improve the quality of what we're doing in the Pro Bowl or consider other changes or even considering eliminating the game if that's the kind of quality game we're going to provide."  While both Selig and Stern have made countless tweaks to their All Star Games over the years, virtually all of then have been made with a "bigger is always better" mindset.  Both the MLB and NBA All Star breaks have swelled to the point where they actively distract fans from their regular seasons, and the quality of play in those games seems to diminish every year.  The NBA All Star Game is an excuse for Derrick Rose to throw LeBron James a dozen alley-oops, while the MLB game usually comes down to Aramis Ramirez facing Joakim Soria in the late innings.

In the midst of all this All Star growth, we have Goodell suggesting that the NFL's Pro Bowl potentially be eliminated.  And why not?  After all, there's absolutely no need for the Pro Bowl: no one watches it, very few players want to be a part of it, and the NFL schedule doesn't make it easy to organize it.  There's no reason the league couldn't just name its All Pros at the end of the season without actually holding a Pro Bowl game - let's give Goodell credit for recognizing and acknowledging this fact and (potentially) doing something about it.  Goodell seems secure enough with the NFL's incredible success and domination of the American sports scene that he's comfortable admitting when something isn't working.  To me, it's another example of the NFL and Goodell's power over American sports.

While Bud Selig seeks additional playoff expansion to spice up the MLB postseason and David Stern continues to explore international franchises to further globalize the NBA, Roger Goodell and the NFL have minimized the changes to professional football.  There are many reasons why millions of people will be watching the Superbowl this afternoon while baseball and basketball struggle to build viewership for the World Series and NBA Finals, respectively.  Let's give Goodell some credit here and acknowledge that he's done a lot of good since he took the NFL's head position in 2006.  While Selig and Stern may grab more headlines, Goodell is usually the one grabbing the dollars and the fans.

Pitying Poor Peyton

As an old-school kind of sports fan, I tend to like guys to who have old-school values.  I like players who are personable, but not over the top.  I like guys who are honest and take responsibility for their mistakes.  I like guys who have built their legacies with one franchise, and who know to go out on top instead of stumbling to the finish line.  I like guys who give plenty of credit to their teammates and coaches, but at the same time aren't afraid to take some of the credit for themselves.  I like players who work hard and succeed even though they might not be the most athletically gifted guy on the planet.  In short, I like guys like Peyton Manning.

And that's why it's been painful for me to watch the saga that is Peyton's current relationship with the Colts.  After almost singlehandedly turning the Colts from the league's doormat into a consistent Super Bowl contender, Peyton seems to be getting an extremely raw deal.  The Colts have the number one pick in the 2012 NFL Draft, and they'd be crazy not to take Stanford QB Andrew Luck.  At the same time, Luck's shadow already seems to be pushing Manning out of Indianapolis.  Some fans are calling for him to be traded.  Others have accused him of making things difficult for team management.  More are caught between backing a guy they've loved for the last 15 years and siding with a guy who might lead them for the next 15.

Peyton's in a rough spot right now.  If he comes back with the Colts and the team struggles (which they likely will, given that the team finished 2-14 this year), will fans be awkwardly calling for one of the game's all-time best players to be benched in favor of an unproven rookie?  If Peyton goes to another team, will he be able to cement his legacy as perhaps the best QB of all time by leading yet another disappointing team (the Jets, maybe?) to the Super Bowl?  Or will his second act be more like Brett Favre's (minus all of the lewd SMS messaging, of course), where he'll struggle to regain his footing in a new environment and tarnish everything he's built over more than a decade in Indy?

If Peyton calls to ask me for advice today (it seems unlikely, but you never know), I'd advise him to retire this offseason.  From a health standpoint, Manning is coming off of serious neck surgery and doesn't want to risk suffering a life-altering injury that could negatively impact him for the rest of his days.  On the field, Peyton has nothing left to prove - he's won a Super Bowl, been NFL MVP and developed a reputation as the best QB of his, or perhaps any, era (the Colts' struggles without him this year truly prove just how valuable he is).  The Colts are going to select Andrew Luck in the NFL Draft, and with a new GM and coaching staff will probably want to hand him the keys sooner rather than later.  If Peyton Manning retires now, he can go out on good terms with the fans, the Colts and, most importantly, his own inner thoughts.

NFC Championship Recap

Trailing only Team USA's dramatic last second victory over Algeria in the 2010 World Cup, Sunday's NFC Championship game at Candlestick Park between the Giants and the 49ers was probably the most satisfying sporting event I've ever seen in person.  Between the game's extremely high stakes (a trip to the Super Bowl to face New England), overtime drama (Lawrence Tynes' field goal to win it after 49ers punt returner Kyle Williams fumbled for the second time in the game) and intense atmosphere, leaving Candlestick Park with a huge victory made the extremely inconvenient Caltrain ride home feel like a walk on the beach.  Overall, Sunday was a fantastic day, and I couldn't have been happier with the experience.

We all know that the Super Bowl is more media production than actual sporting event - for most people, the commercials, halftime show and pregame hoopla matter more than the game itself.  I've always thought of the NFC and AFC Championships as the last true NFL games of the season, focused purely on the competition rather than game presentation.  Now that I've finally attended an NFL championship game, though, I realize that isn't the case.  The NFL and the 49ers tried to turn the game into a mini Super Bowl, with a pregame performance from the band Train and a halftime show featuring country music star Brad Paisley.  While Train's performance was decent and somewhat relevant (their new hit song is called "Save Me, San Francisco"), the Brad Paisley set was a completely random celebration of the U.S. military and seemingly came completely out of left field, leaving virtually everyone in attendance confused.  The national anthem featured a giant, 100-yard-long American flag that I must admit was pretty awesome, though.

A bigger flag signifies a bigger event, and the NFC Championship game featured one big-ass flag.

Before the game I was slightly worried about how the 49ers faithful would treat a couple of guys wearing Giants gear, but for the most part I found the fans to be pretty respectful.  While before the game I was the subject of a view aggressive remarks from random drunk San Francisco fans, the people that sat around us in Upper Reserved Section 9 were really friendly.  It seemed like after so much losing in past seasons, the Niners fans were just happy to be hosting the NFC Championship game and weren't expecting more than a competitive contest and a fun afternoon.  Even after the game, the fans gave the 49ers a standing ovation for their effort and then congratulated us on the Giants' win, wishing the team luck in the Super Bowl.  While I was expecting a much harsher atmosphere, what I saw was a general respect for the game of football and an appreciation for what the 49ers unexpectedly accomplished this season.

The Giants rush the field after earning a trip to the Super Bowl.

While the 49ers fans were loud in the beginning of the game, over time they definitely ran out of steam.  The weather definitely had something to do with it - it rained periodically throughout the four-hour contest, and eventually I think many fans were just too wet or too cold to get properly excited about the game.  The fourth quarter and overtime were extremely tense, though, and Giants and 49ers fans alike were on their feet throughout the last hour of the battle.  I couldn't have asked for a better finish, and outcome, from my first ever NFL playoff game, and I give San Francisco a lot of credit for putting together a great event.  Now it's up to the Giants and Patriots to make Super Bowl Sunday as exciting as Conference Championship Sunday was.

What's Not To Like?

It wasn't a great weekend to be a fan of the Pittsburgh Steelers.  Just when it looked like "Tebow Time" had finally run out - after three straight losses to close the regular season, it appeared that the sun had finally set on the Denver Broncos' miracle run, originally sparked when Tim Tebow was named the team's starting quarterback midseason - the Mile High Messiah propelled his team to victory over the heavily-favored Steel Curtain.  Had it been any other quarterback leading the upset, the notoriously passionate Steelers faithful would have been furious, vowing revenge against the perpetrator and cursing his name for all eternity.  That's why I was surprised to see the following posted on the Facebook wall of a die-hard Steelers fan: "Still proud to be a Steelers fan. Give Tebow all the credit in the world. He played great."

That's the thing that's so fascinating about Tim Tebow.  The fact that he's extremely polarizing as an athletic talent isn't all that interesting, as there are tons of players whose skills are admired by some and criticized by others (quarterbacks like Cam Newton and Mark Sanchez come to mind).  It's also not the fact that Tebow's transformation of the Broncos is so unprecedented; it wasn't that long ago that Vince Young led the Titans to a second-half resurgence, though the hoopla surrounding Young's run paled in comparison to the media circus following Tebow on an hourly basis.  Instead, I think the most note worthy thing about Tim Tebow is that, assuming you are a somewhat rational sports fan, hating him makes absolutely no sense.

I'm not normally one to gush over athletes, but I don't see what's not to like about Tim Tebow.  For one, all the guy has heard since he was drafted by Denver is that he wouldn't cut it in the NFL, and here he is winning a playoff game in his second season.  One of the first blog posts I ever wrote was dedicated to hard-working NBA reserve forward Lou Amundson who, as I wrote back in April of 2010, is "overlooked by every player [he] matches-up against, but would constantly frustrate them with [his] refusal to lower [his] energy level" and is known as "a good teammate and the type of 'glue guy' that keeps teams calm and collected during tough times and entertains everyone when things are going well."  Doesn't that sound like Tebow?  Aren't these the types of guys we're supposed to love?  Almost every cheesy sports movie is built around stories like Tebow's, and who doesn't love a good, predictable underdog-wins-in-the-end sports movie?

As fans, we spend so much time analyzing player personalities, and on the scale of NFL players I'll argue that Tebow seems like a great kid.  He's modest, self-aware and respectful.  You might take issue with his level of "religiousness," but you'd be hard pressed to argue that his attachment to Christianity is driven by anything other than true faith and a conservative, religious upbringing.  Considering how many professional athletes "praise God" after even the most mundane of athletic accomplishments, I find Tebow's relatively subtle and reserved on-field references to God to be sincere and appropriate.  You may not agree with Tebow's views of the world, but I think he deserves credit for being true to his beliefs and sticking to his guns despite a ton of institutional pressure driving him to appeal to a more secular, mainstream audience.

Compared to the other provocative things NFL players say and do, I find "Tebowing" to be unoffensive.

I have no idea if Tim Tebow will have longevity as a starting NFL quarterback, but I hope he does both for his sake and for the good of the league.  As an athlete, Tebow brings something unique to the table - his presence as the league's only true option quarterback adds an element of the college ranks to the pro game and once again shatters the constantly-evolving mold in which NFL quarterbacks are built, and he's an inspiration for all sorts of athletes who have been told that their unique styles don't translate to the next level (like Tyler Hansbrough and his lack of athleticism or Tim Lincecum and his small stature).  More importantly, though, Tebow's willingness to be himself is his most admirable quality.  Rather than try to conform to what an NFL player is "supposed to be," Tebow has so far managed to be himself both on and off the field.  How can you possibly hate on that?

A Tale of One City

While watching the third quarter of what would eventually be a division-clinching victory for the New York Giants over the Dallas Cowboys, I saw a commercial for Pepsi Max featuring New York Jets head coach Rex Ryan, quarterback Mark Sanchez and the rest of Gang Green.  Earlier today, I also watched the majority of the Jets' season-ending loss to the mediocre Miami Dolphins, but didn't see Giants head coach Tom Coughlin or quarterback Eli Manning selling any zero-calorie carbonated soft drinks.  All season, New York football has been a story of the Jets failing to live up to all the hype that surrounded them throughout the season, and of the Giants overcoming injuries and adversity to take the NFC East title.  Today more than any other this season, I'm proud to be a fan of the 2011 New York Giants.

While I'm happy that the Giants will get to host the Atlanta Falcons in the first round of the NFC playoffs next weekend, I'm even more proud of the effort that my Giants put forth the entire season.  From the start of the preseason, all I heard was talk about how the Giants were no match for the more talented (on paper, anyway) Philadelphia Eagles and Dallas Cowboys.  People wrote off Big Blue when they dropped their season opener in Washington, and again when they lost tough games to New Orleans, Green Bay and Philadelphia later in the year.  At the same time, many crowned the Jets as the AFC favorites before any games were played.  As a result, the Jets got the bulk of the endorsement deals.  At the end of the season, though, the Giants got the bulk of the wins.

Few people expected much from Victor Cruz or the rest of the Giants this season.

I'm the first to admit that there's no real rivalry between New York's two NFL franchises.  With the exception of last week, when the Giants beat the Jets at MetLife Stadium in what was technically a road game, the two teams rarely impact each other.  This year, however, the two battled for much more than the newspaper headlines - the Giants victory all but ended the Jets' season even before Gang Green played an uninspired game in Miami today.  On the flip side, Rex Ryan's constant trash talk fired up the Giants to the point that Big Blue not only took down the Jets, but rode the momentum through tonight's impressive and complete victory over Dallas.  As a fan of hard-nosed football, I couldn't be more happy about the way the regular season ended for the Giants - the team let their play do the talking, put together two of their best games of the year and earned a well-deserved playoff home game.

I don't in any way think that the Jets extracurricular activities - the commercials, the trash talking, the spotlight - had anything to do with the team's disappointing 2011 season, just like I don't believe that some sort of "No one believes in us!" mentality is what propelled the Giants to a strong finish and the playoffs.  Instead, I believe that the Jets were overrated from the start and that the Giants were deeper and better prepared than many people gave them credit for.  At the same time, though, the alignment between the Giants' blue-collar work ethic and NFC East title is extremely satisfying to Giants fans everywhere.  And I'd be lying if I said that the correlation between the Jets' sense of entitlement and late season collapse wasn't a little bit satisfying, too.

Crumbling Candlestick Park

Note: Based on reader input, some additional detail has been added (in italics) to the third paragraph.

Despite having lived in the Bay Area for over a year now, I didn't know much about Candlestick Park - home of the San Francisco 49ers - until this weekend.  I had heard that the stadium was known for being shockingly windy and cold, and that the team has been trying to build a new facility either in Santa Clara or near AT&T Park for years.  I also recently attended a panel featuring some 49ers executives during which one of the team's senior marketing executives claimed that her job was to make sure the team was associated with the word "class."  It was with this limited information that I made my way up to South San Francisco on Sunday to see the New York Giants battle the Niners at Candlestick Park.

While San Francisco isn't New York, it's still a large city where a lot of people regularly use public transportation.  The city has both Caltrain, a commuter rail network, and BART, a metro system, but shockingly neither have a station anywhere near Candlestick.  The Caltrain website recommends taking the Caltrain, BART and a bus to get to the stadium from Palo Alto, but after some research I discovered that the stadium is a fifteen minute walk through a quasi-shady San Francisco neighborhood from the nearest Caltrain stop.  We took the 50 minute Caltrain ride from Stanford and then walked down streets, through parking lots and up unpaved hills to get to the field - hardly convenient.  And we were far from the only ones doing it - we followed hundreds of other 49er jersey-clad fans who showed us the way.  How the city of San Francisco hasn't developed a better public transportation alternative for reaching the stadium from the South Bay is beyond me.

Can you see the video board?  Neither could we from our seats in Section 61.

Things didn't get much better once we reached the stadium, either.  Once we got inside the Candlestick grounds, it was immediately obvious why the team is trying so desperately trying to construct a new facility.  The stadium, like many other 1960s-era football stadiums (such as RFK Stadium in Washington, DC), is generic, concrete and ugly.  The concourses are drab, narrow and empty, with extremely limited concessions and bathroom facilities.  Also, because Candlestick was once a mixed-use venue (it housed the San Francisco Giants until AT&T Park opened), there is a section of temporary seating (removable for baseball games) which is improperly angled towards the sideline, so the rows and the yard lines aren't perpendicular and some views are obstructed - you can even sort of see it in the photo below.  Perhaps most surprising, though, was the terrible quality of Candlestick's in-stadium technology.  There were two tiny video boards that were nearly impossible to see, and the PA announcer was barely audible through the stadium's dilapidated stereo system.  Ironically, Silicon Valley's team might have the least technologically sophisticated venue in the NFL.

The 49ers fans were passionate, in a sloppy sort of way.

As for the team's mission of "staying classy," as Ron Burgundy would say, I would say the 49ers are coming up short.  While the team's fans were passionate and relatively loud (it's hard not to be when your team is 8-1), they were far from "professional."  Overall, I would rate my first Candlestick Park experience as mediocre at best.  At least the weather was fantastic - we were all way overdressed, having prepared for a freezing, windy afternoon.  It's definitely time for the team to break ground on a new Santa Clara-based facility ASAP.

DVR Danger, or How I Missed "The Helmet Catch"

This Sunday will mark the first time that my New York Giants have played against the New England Patriots (not counting preseason) since the Giants pulled off one of the greatest upsets in Super Bowl history less than four years ago.  While New York won the game on a 14-yard touchdown pass from Eli Manning to Plaxico Burress, the play from that game that has burned itself into the minds of sports fans is Manning's desperate heave to backup receiver David Tyree, now known (affectionately in New York and disgustedly in Boston) as "The Helmet Catch."

Every Giants (and Pats) fan can tell you exactly where he was when Tyree made his improbable grab, and can describe exactly how he felt while watching it live.  Every Giants fan, that is, except for me.  As much as it pains me to admit it, I didn't catch (no pun intended) Tyree's grab live.  Instead, I fell victim to the dangers of DVR and, with the Giants once again set to take on New England in an important (but admittedly much less significant) match-up this Sunday, I want to issue a few words of warning to NFL followers everywhere.  While DVR seems to provide us with great opportunities to pause live action, re-watch critical plays and subsequently blow through commercial breaks, Digital Video Recorders are far from all fun and games.

I watched the Giants-Pats Super Bowl with some coworkers at a house in Beverly Hills.  Periodically while watching, we'd pause the action to let someone go grab another beer and some food or to let someone use the bathroom, or we'd rewind to take another look at a nice catch or a big hit.  The Super Bowl was scheduled to run for four hours (including pregame and halftime), but any NFL fans knows that the Superbowl always runs long - unfortunately, Adelphia Cable wasn't aware of this seemingly obvious fact.  By the time the fourth quarter rolled around and Manning was preparing to launch his wobbly pass towards Tyree, the scheduled run time for the Super Bowl was set to expire, and in fact did so just as Manning released the pass.

Or so we thought.  You see, when our DVR'ed broadcast reached the moment just before "The Helmet Catch," we were probably 30 seconds or so behind the live broadcast.  What happens when you reach the end of a scheduled broadcast on some DVRs?  The TV jumps immediately to live programming - in our case, 30 seconds ahead to what was scheduled as the Super Bowl post game show, but what turned out to be the moment immediately following Tyree's grab.  All we saw while watching was Manning spin and fire the ball - then a weird break as the TV jumped to live programming - and then the Giants celebrating down field and the announcers going crazy.  Or course, shortly thereafter we saw dozens of replays of the catch (and I've seen it hundreds of times since), but the truth is that I never saw it live.

I've seen "The Helmet Catch" from every vantage point but one: The live video broadcast.

The message here is that the next time you choose to watch a live sporting event on delay using your DVR, be careful.  As much as we wish it wasn't so, the DVR doesn't know you're watching one of the most significant sporting events of your lifetime at the most significant time.  All it knows is that when a program is scheduled to end, it's time to jump to the start of the next show, regardless of what David Tyree might be doing at the time.  

Running Into Your Ex

There's a great Family Guy clip (video below) where the show pokes fun of the awkwardness of running into an ex-girlfriend.  In an effort not to seem bitter and petty, guys will appear overly-enthusiastic about bumping into a former flame and hearing all about how well she's doing - inside, though, you know he's wishing that her life had fallen apart so that he can feel like he was the thing keeping her from completely imploding.  This situation isn't unique to former boyfriends and girlfriends, though - a similar set of reactions can be expected from Stanford football fans after former coach Jim Harbaugh left the school for the NFL's San Francisco 49ers.

After Sunday's victory over previously undefeated Detroit, Harbaugh's 49ers are 5-1 and threatening to run away with the admittedly weak NFC West.  On the surface, Stanford football fans seem thrilled with the prospect of Harbaugh turning the 49ers around - everyone around the school talks about the coach positively and seems excited to celebrate his early success.  To be fair, some of this enthusiasm might be legitimate; there is, after all, a large overlap between Stanford students / alums and San Francisco 49ers fans.  Most Stanford supporters seem to agree that Harbaugh left the school on good terms, kept his promise of staying in the Bay Area (contrast this with former MLB pitcher Mike Hampton, who famously justified a mega contract with the Colorado Rockies by praising the Denver area's public school system), and played a large (if not the largest) role in bringing the school to the top-ten ranking it enjoys today.

But below the surface, you have to wonder if some of these smiling Stanford fans are, like the guy who bumps into his ex-girlfriend, silently rooting for Harbaugh's 49ers to fail.  As long as Harbaugh succeeds in the NFL, it is he who will receive all of the credit for everything Stanford football did last year and for much of what the team continues to do this season.  For all of the talk about the brilliant play of Andrew Luck, the solid head coaching debut of David Shaw and the emergence of the team's three-headed tight end monster, Harbaugh's early dominance of the NFL competition seems to suggest that he deserves the bulk of the credit for Stanford football's reemergence.  If Harbaugh can turn the 49ers around, does that mean he was the sole reason for Stanford's stunning turnaround over the past few seasons?  Had Harbaugh taken a job at Cal or Oregon State or Washington State, would it have been the Golden Bears or the Beavers or the Cougars currently destroying PAC-12 competition?  With Harbaugh to the NFL and Luck set to join him after this season, are the Cardinal destined to fall back to mediocrity by the middle of the decade?

Personally, I'm happy for Jim Harbaugh.  I have nothing against the 49ers and, with the exception of their upcoming game against the Giants at Candlestick Park, I wish them well.  But to the extent that a few Harbaugh failures would build some credibility for the Stanford football program and shift some of the credit from their former coach to their current staff and players, I'm all for that, too.  While I'll smile outwardly every time I see Harbaugh energetically celebrating after a big win, I have to admit that I'll smirk inwardly if Harbaugh's 49ers do happen to come apart at the seams.

Brandon Marshall: A Not-So-Tough Guy

With the NBA permanently temporarily cancelled, the sports world has been partially devoid of stupid comments made by professional athletes.  Statistical analysis proves that NBA athletes provide sports media with the vast majority of empty threats, unsubstantiated claims and worthless guarantees,* so it shouldn't come to a surprise that it's been a relatively quiet autumn so far.  That being said, we can always count on the NFL to pick up the slack with the NBA on hiatus - this week, it was Miami Dolphins WR Brandon Marshall who grabbed the headlines when he said he intends to get ejected during the second quarter of this Sunday's game against the New York Jets.  Here's an excerpt from Marshall's rant (more information via ESPN here):

"I'm not joking. I'm serious," Marshall told the South Florida Sun-Sentinel. "They're going to fine me. It's probably going to be like a $50,000 fine. But that quarter and a half that I'm out there, I'm going to play like a monster."

It's not completely clear why Marshall said what he did.  If we give him the benefit of the doubt, we can assume he was trying to come up with a witty rebuttal to the various people claiming that "he hasn't played with enough emotion in the first four games."  Or perhaps he's trying to pump up his teammates by showing them that he will do whatever it takes to inject some life into a winless team.  It's also possible that this could also be tied to Marshall's confirmed case of borderline personality disorder.  Then again, Occam's Razor would suggest that the simplest answer is the correct one, so perhaps Marshall is just an idiot.  Regardless of Marshall's intentions, I'm willing to bet that the end result will not be a good one.

First off, by publicly proclaiming his intentions to start a fight with various members of the Jets defense, Marshall has put a bullseye on his uniform for all of the referees and opposing players to stare at throughout the game.  When a player makes a public threat like this one, fans aren't the only ones reading it - you better believe that the refs will be looking to flag Marshall for even the smallest offenses, and that every Jets player will be looking to plant the wide receiver on his backside at every opportunity in order to provoke him into doing something dumb.  Additionally, Marshall's comments add yet another distraction to the locker room of a winless team already dealing with injuries (QB Chad Henne is out for the season) and other problems.

Brandon Marshall probably wants to show the world how tough he is by announcing his intentions to get into a fight during Sunday's contest.  But true football fans know that a truly tough player would never abandon him teammates by intentionally risking ejection or put his already-disadvantaged team in an even bigger hole by turning himself into a target for penalty flags.  If Marshall really wants to become the "monster" he says he can be, it's time for him to stop talking and start producing.  If the admittedly-talented Dolphins WR can focus his energy on the field, instead of continuing his history of becoming a distraction off of it, he might have a chance to do something that would really prove that he's tough - lead his winless team to a win over the heavily-favored Jets.

*I made this up, but is seens entirely believable, doesn't it?

Room For HGH In The NFL?

On my way to check my fantasy football roster this morning, I stumbled across an intentionally provocative headline on the CBS Sports website arguing that "In Peyton's case, using HGH to heal is no crime."  The article, written by CBS Sports columnist Gregg Doyel, argues that if doctors prescribe HGH to heal Peyton Manning's injured neck, he should be allowed to take it and, as soon as he's ready, play in the NFL.  Doyel asserts that this would be fair, since it would be for medical (and not performance enhancing) purposes, and would be good for the NFL because it would ensure that one of the league's marquee players returns to the field faster.  Doyel acknowledges, however, that fans are already mentally opposed to HGH, but claims that people are missing the point - that if a doctor says it's OK for Peyton, then we should accept it.

To me, Doyel is missing a lot in his argument.  First, we need to think about what's best for Peyton Manning and his legacy.  As of now, Manning is considered one of the best quarterbacks to ever play the game of football, and one of the NFL's best ambassadors as well.  The way his team has been struggling so far this season without him is further testament to his value, and suggests that he might be an even greater asset than his extremely-impressive career numbers originally lead us to believe.  Manning is a first-ballot Hall of Famer who can't do anything to change the public's opinion of him; except, that is, start using HGH to recover from his off-season neck surgery.

Additionally, we're walking along a very slippery slope here if we agree to let Peyton Manning use HGH to recover from his injury.  This is the National Football League we're talking about - it's the most savage sports league in the world and, despite the league's efforts to protect its players with rule changes, virtually every player is injured every week.  Where would we draw the line between who's injured enough to take HGH and who's just "regular injured?"  You can quickly see every player lining up to take HGH to recover from sore muscles, ankle tweaks and all sorts of very routine ailments, creating a league of suped-up freaks.  And the fact that a doctor prescribes the HGH doesn't really change anything - as we've seen in other sports (baseball, track and field, etc.) there are tons of unsavory characters in the sports medicine community willing to do anything for a buck.  Don't think anything will change when it comes to prescribing HGH to NFLers.

It's easy to say that allowing Manning to take HGH to recover from his neck injury is a "no brainer" when you don't think about the long term consequences of such a move.  Admittedly, neither the NFL nor fantasy football are as fun or exciting without Peyton Manning under center for the Colts every weekend.  But, unfortunately, injuries are part of football; they've derailed the careers of great players before, and they're surely do so again in the future.  There's no reason to risk the NFL's rock-solid relationship with its fans by allowing one of its stars to do what many will perceive as break the rules, though.  At the end of the day, the NFL is an entertainment property, and I think most fans will find an HGH-fueled Peyton Manning more upsetting than entertaining.

Hypocritically Optimistic

Every Major League Baseball offseason, I get a tremendous amount of joy (and a moderate amount of frustration) from listening to Mets fans talk about how good their team is going to be next year.  In spite of all of the signals that annually suggest that an overpaid Mets roster will limp to a third-, fourth- or fifth-place finish, fans of the Amazin's can always convince themselves that their team is poised for a deep playoff run.  Listening to their absurd arguments, I've always promised myself that I will stay committed to reality when it comes to forecasting success (or lack thereof) for my favorite teams. 

For the first time that I can remember, though, the NFL offseason and the New York Giants' 2011 prospects are causing my realistic side to do battle with my optimistic side.  Deep down, I know, recognize, and have come to terms with the fact that the Giants are likely to struggle this year.  Outside of drafting already-injured first round pick Prince Amukamara and resigning the consistently inconsistent Ahmad Bradshaw, New York added virtually nothing to a roster that missed the playoffs in 2010, and lost a number of key role players including Steve Smith and Caught Looking favorite Kevin Boss.  With the Philadelphia Eagles seemingly loaded and the Dallas Cowboys - and diabolical owner Jerry Jones - always a threat to pull together a dominant team, things look somewhat bleak for the 2011 edition of Big Blue.

But then again, maybe not.  After all, isn't it possible that the shortened summer practice schedule created by the lockout helps a cohesive unit like the Giants, as opposed to a new and rebuilt Eagles squad?  Now that Hakeem Nicks and Mario Manningham have another year of the offense under their belts, maybe Eli Manning really is in the same class as Tom Brady, like he claimed this week, and will prove it this season.  Why, just this morning ESPN.com columnist KC Joyner proclaimed that the Giants, and not the Eagles or Cowboys, were the favorites to take the NFC East crowd, and has some pretty good reasons to back his point up.  And with everyone underestimating them, maybe this is the year the Giants fly under the radar deep into the playoffs like they did in 2007.

You can see how easy it is to go from realistic fan to optimistic fan in no time.  And while the logic above is way more realistic than anything I've heard from Mets fans each and every Spring Training (not only is a surprise run in football more likely than in baseball but, come on, it's the Mets we're talking about here . . .), it's not really that different.  So while I'll be working hard to curb my enthusiasm about the Giants' chances until after the regular season starts in mid-September, next spring I'm also going to try and remember to cut all of those "glass is half empty" Mets fans some slack.  After all, it's the allowance for some completely irrational pre-season hope that makes sports so great. 

Lockout Publicity Equals Good Publicity?

There's no question that the NFL and the NBA want to avoid missing games this season, if realistically possible.  A shortened season means millions of dollars of lost revenue, not to mention a serious reputational hit as fans perceive both players and owners as (even more) greedy.  But assuming the leagues can get their acts together and settle their respective CBAs before the scheduled starts of their regular seasons (seemingly likely for the NFL, perhaps not so likely for the NBA), might all of the additional publicity generated by these summer lockouts actually be a good thing for professional football and basketball?

In a traditional NFL / NBA offseason period, the average sports fan spends the summer watching baseball and golf.  The NFL and NBA drafts get a fair amount of press coverage, as do the opening of preseason camps and significant summer trades and free agent signings.  This year, though, the NFL and NBA are all over SportsCenter every day - updates on CBA negotiations get top billing over exciting MLB games on many mornings, and I've seen more of John Clayton this week than I typically do in December.  Even "news items" that typically receive little to no publicity are garnering attention because of the lockouts.  This week, for example, the NBA released it's regular season schedule, an event that would typically fly completely under the sports media radar.  This summer, however, the likelihood that there might not be a regular season has sports commentators talking non-stop about all of the exciting basketball action that we might miss.

You can argue that even the threat of missing NBA and NFL games hurts those leagues.  Teams can't sell tickets and sponsorships during the lockouts, and some fans will likely be angered by the constant bickering between owners and players.  But I bet that, if the NFL and NBA can avoid missing games, most fans will completely forget about the labor disputes by the time the first coins are flipped and jump balls are tossed.  At the same time, all of the buzz created by this summer's threat of a regular season-impacting work stoppage could increase the excitement for already-highly anticipated NFL and NBA regular seasons.  In a way, all of the summer lockout talk might, in the long run, be good for professional football and hoops.

I can't remember a summer where people were more focused on basketball and football (and, as a result, less focused on baseball) than this one, even though MLB is in the middle of an extremely exciting regular season, which tells me that the NFL and NBA might be poised for even bigger than normal years.  Of course, this entire argument will be moot if the lockouts do actually impact the regular seasons.  For the NFL, that seems extremely unlikely, as within a week we're likely to have forgotten about the dispute and begin focusing even harder on the return of regular season (and fantasy) football.  While the NBA legitimately might miss part of / all of the regular season, if the basketball players and owners can come to terms quicker than expected then it, too, can reap the benefits of a summer atop the headlines.