Author: Peiser

Reporting live on scene from the city that never sleeps and only showers on rare occasion.

N. Y. C.-bow

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“Let me be really clear about this, we work for the fans and the fans want us to win games, so all of the decisions we make regarding the team are just for football. It’s hard to predict other things. If you get confused in term of what your mission is, you’re not going to accomplish your mission. And our mission is to win games pure and simple. We think that Tim Tebow has been a winner all his life.”

-Woody Johnson

GOOD MORNING NEW YORK CITY NERDS ON SPORTS! IT’S TEBOW TIME! AFTER THE JUMP! Read More

Football , , ,

The Century Club

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One hundred years.  One hundred (100) years is a very long time.  Not if you’re Methuselah, sure, but for the rest of us it’s an almost unfathomable length of time, a stretch which goes far beyond our years on this lonely island Earth.  When someone says “100 years ago,” the odds are good that you’ll not remember what they speak of, as you were not around a century ago.  So in the interest of historical framing, here’s a brief look at things which are not of the last century:

An American Civil War (well over 100 years, but hey, the Union is strong)

Inventing the car- no wait, even later than that, introducing the Model T.  (Almost exactly 100 years ago!)

The Tunguska Blast (Many Shuvs and Zuuls knew what it was to roast in the depths of the Slor that day!)

The Cubs winning the World Series.
Alright, fine, we’re still 9 days off from it “officially” being a century, but the frustrations of the Cubs and their faithful (read: stupid) fans have, as of twenty minutes ago, reached the heights of unimaginable legend.   The only professional sports franchise in the country with a century between championships.  Truly, something to celebrate.

If you’re a Dodgers fan.

Baseball

Nerds on Sports March Madness – Addendum

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As will happen on the internet from time to time (see, e.g., Rule 34), things have a way of just… being out there, simply waiting to be found. Seems our title match has in fact been posted on YouTube!

Now, I know what you’re thinking: we obviously rigged the tournament just to show you this “stellar” piece of “film-making” that was “crafted” by “talented” people. But you would be wrong! Everything’s on the up-and-up here at NoS. This simply serves to prove three important points.

  1. We are made of awesome magic, especially Perich.
  2. All this has happened before, and will happen again.
  3. And, of course, everybody knows that Batman totally rules, and Luke’s a sissy.
Nerd Tournaments , ,

18 And Life To Go

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The perfect season has been foiled at the last minute before.

From The Washington Post‘s The Redskins Book:

The 1942 Redskins went 10-1. Their only loss was 14-7 to the Giants in the second game of the season, a score they reversed against the Giants amid a nine-game winning streak. The Redskins allowed only 13 points in their last four games. Once more, their title-game foe would be the Bears. The Bears, who had won 18 straight games, were favored.

The defending champion Bears’ 11 wins in 1942 were rough, physical victories staked on hard-hitting defense. The Redskins had gotten back into contending shape after a mediocre 1941 on the legendary arm, back, and quick-kicking leg of Sammy Baugh. The favored Chicago team quickly went up 6-0. But the final score was 14-6, with the last 1 yard scoring play a handoff to Andy Farkas. By all accounts, it was smash-mouth football, the kind of game that you can’t watch without wincing every minute of the way– despite the fact that “NFL commissioner Elmer Layden ordered ‘a clean game.'” (Goodell shouldn’t have to worry about a ‘clean game’ on the field- just keep Tom Petty from flashing some tit and everyone’s happy. Also, check the Giants’ Gatorade jugs for audio transmitting devices.)

The Bears had won 18 straight. The Redskins stopped them. All it took was a charter member of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. And George Halas off coaching duty due to naval service. And… ok, fine, so let’s just stick with the “18 and out” part.

Then, there’s at least one recent example of a perfect season bid gone unrealized with a connection to this weekend’s contest:

That video is never going to get old.The connection, of course, is the coach of the then-victorious Eagles: Tom Coughlin. Sure, it’s a stretch, and there’s pretty much no comparison of even the biggest NCAA game to any pro game, but the man did coach an underdog to ‘glory’ once before. Hell, they even got to play in the Carquest bowl or some shit. And that loss sent the ND program into a slow spiral which… well, you saw what happened this year.

I’ve been a Giants fan my whole life. Baseball’s my first love, of course, but I can remember watching Simms, Bavaro, Mowatt, and LT lead the charge in Pasadena, mere months after Mookie poked a dribbler through some guy’s legs. It was a glorious time to be a six-year-old sports nut in Queens. And I am grateful to this day that my family were not Jets fans. That would suck. A lot.

Given the reigning baseball champions, I can’t shake the feeling like there’s some guileless little kid in Quincy or Watertown or wherever, MA, who doesn’t yet know that he’s supposed to be a smug asshole about cheering for his teams, just that he likes Varitek and it was fun to see the Sox win, and his dad yells about the Patriots a lot and it’s fun to see them win. For that kid, sure, it’d be nice if the Patriots won.

For the rest of you, eat a dick. 24-21, smash-mouth Giants victory.

This is the end of today’s PICKSTRAVAGANZA by the Nerds on Sports staff. Read the previous five posts for more “insight” from the nerds.

Football , , , , ,

The Horror. The Horror.

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I can’t help but feel like Col. Kurtz, having journeyed these final 17 games into the dreadful jungle, the gnarled heart of darkness, only to find the inescapable truth that there is no prize, no joy, indeed nothing but horror in the end. Here, horror that a team filled with promise should implode so thoroughly; horror that a cadre of players in a superstitious sport would…not…shut…up; horror that the season is truly, completely, and chillingly over on October 1.

I don’t think I have anything particularly clever or meaningful to add to the conversation surrounding the 2007 Mets’ unseemly demise, but neither did the local tabloids. Nobody could, really, because this kind of collective numbed silence invites only further silence. Pictures of dejected fans, splashy oh-cruel-world headlines, and calls for the head of Willie Randolph are just so much noise in the ether. The silence is blistering.

The horror is all that remains.

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