Nerds on Sports

Team, here’s a quick update of the points that may be discussed in your office today. So read these and enjoy your new state of well-informedness.

-Jets QB Mark Sanchez is now sporting a creepy pencil-thin mustache.

-49ers RB Frank Gore hurt himself on his first play of the game, enraging fantasy owners everywhere.

-Brett Favre continues to just go out there and have fun… as he likes to remind us at every opportunity.

-The Titans are now 0-3, which was unexpected.

-There’s a radio commercial that has a chorus singing about Coors Light over the Monday Night Football theme. It’s hilarious.

-The Yankees have clinched the AL East and homefield advantage through the playoffs. Helpful.

-Tom Brady and the Patriots had a good outing against the well-educated Matt Ryan and the Falcons, calming the fans of New England.

-Tiger Woods just won ten million dollars.

Times are changing in Boston.  We’ve now gotten new train maps (finally), and we’ve finally taken care of that holier-than-thou football attitude.

The Patriots are mortal once more, for the first time since Drew Bledsoe lumbered around in the pocket.  I’m not going to waste my time talking about why (since you all know why – major surgeries, hole in the middle of the defense, slot receiver injuries), but I will take a moment to note something that some fans forget about.

Fans grow weary of champions.  They’d rather watch a team rise (the Jets) or a team fall (the Patriots) than a dynasty.  Dynasties are boring, and only entertain 1/30th of the fans.

Whether or not the Pats continue to stay down, I am certain that talk of their presumed decline will be far richer than the thin broth that the media woould give them after a victory.

Oh Kanye.  You’ve gotten so good at embarrassing white folks on stage.  And I’m so glad you did it again this week, to ceremonially kick off the football season – a season where embarrassment is sure to be one of the most important topics.  And boy did the season start off strong for that.

1.  Bad News - Long snappers are like third base coaches.  You don’t ever want them in the news.  Bears LSer Patrick Mannelly decided to overstep his responsibilities in humiliating fashion by calling a direct snap to the fullback on 4th-and-long in Bears territory.  Perhaps he saw a hole in the Packers front (there wasn’t one) or that a twelfth man was on the field (there was almost one… but there wasn’t one).  Either way, everyone knows your name now, Patrick.  And from what I hear, Chicago isn’t a friendly town.

2.  See You In My Nightmares - The Richard Seymour trade fiasco was profoundly embarrassing, to be sure.  But not in the way one would initially think.  Richard Seymour has nothing to be embarrassed about; he was smart and avoided the media completely until everything came to rest.  The Patriots have nothing to be embarrassed about, since they weren’t going to sign him next year anyway, and they were able to get a first rounder in 2011 for him.  No, the shame here falls like an unforgiving spotlight on the Oakland Raiders.  In the wake of reports that Oakland Coach Tom Cable put a great form tackle on an assistant, we now had a story about someone refusing to show up to work in the Black Hole even though he had to.  There was rampant speculation that Seymour didn’t want to head to the Raiders because the place was a toxic environment.  Media pundits took their obligatory shots at owner (and ageless horror) Al Davis for paying out the nose for a past-his-prime defensive end for a team with no playoff hopes.  I’ve listened to at least three different radio sports duos talk about how wretched it must be to be a fan of the Raiders.  That right there is embarrassment.

3.  Coldest Winter- My boss is beating me by a solid 100 points in Fantasy Football this week, thanks to Drew Brees (his QB) throwing for six touchdowns, the Philly Defense (his D) destroying Carolina, and Donovan McNabb (my QB) cracking a rib.  I’ve never seen a pounding like this in fantasy.  This is savage.  My co-workers offered me condolences, and they were serious.  There’s nothing worse in fantasy sports than to be pitied.  And this week, I am pitied.

4.  Welcome to Heartbreak- Who Dey?  The Denver Broncos.  The Cincinnati Bengals were humbled this week by the last minute and totally unexpected heroics of Brandon “He’s Still On A Roster” Stokley.  The Denver wideout caught a tip and then had the brains to run out the clock a bit before stepping into the end zone.  Hateful, Brandon.  Hateful.  Since America got such a hearty (and heartfelt) dose of the Bengals during Hard Knocks, I think the last minute loss was felt a bit more personally.  The viewing public knows (as much as you can know someone on reality TV) these guys, and they’re got to feel that thick, chunky kind of embarrassment you feel for a friend.

5.  Paranoid – Despite winning a SuperBowl, no one in New York trusts Eli Manning.  Not to helm a football team, not to mow a lawn, not to drive to Newark Airport from the Meadowlands.  Every diehard Giants fan I know tends to think he could Delhomme with very little warning.  That’s got to be a scary and unfortunate way to live.  And even though he had a decent stat line in Week 1, I do not believe Eli is ever capable of fully securing the trust of the ancient and noble Giants Season Ticket Holders.  How embarrassing for him.

Happy Belated Father’s Day, Nerds.

My dad, in honor of both his special day and the best tournament in pro golf, took me to the U.S. Open at Bethpage. I soaked in the sights, sounds, and startling Golgotha-esque levels of mud and muck. For sake of both speed and thoroughness, I’m going to list out both the Stunning Highs (SH) and Astonishing Lows (AL) of my experience at the public course at Farmingdale. Here we go.

SH: The conditions of the fairways and greens. Everyone on the East Coast has been aware of the monsoon currently soaking the seaboard. What everyone is not aware of is that there are hundreds of men and women with hundreds of grass-drying tools constantly working to keep Bethpage playable. If nature was left to its own devices, the entire town would be underwater. But due to the magnificent interference of the bold water wickers, only about 99% of it is. The remaining 1% was where the best golfers in the world were.

AL: The mud has to go somewhere. And that somewhere was the grandstands and foot paths. I’m not mad or anything, since I was wearing a pair of throwaway sneakers. But still, being on your feet for seven straight hours and having those feet constantly in mud gave me a sense of what Valley Forge might’ve been like.

SH: The quality of the play. I saw Tiger nail a birdie, Phil nail two, and players from all over the world content with the conditions with impossible levels of skill.

AL: How terrible I am at golf. Watching the highest levels of play remind me why I hung up the soft cleats a couple years back. I can’t drive without an ugly slice. My short game doesn’t come into play until I’m already one over on the whole. And I keep equating my score with my self-worth.

SH: The food and drinks. Lemonade, stuffed pretzels, hot dogs, sandwiches of all sorts, served from concessions tents spread throughout the course.

AL: The press of people at those concession stands. The lunch rush was overwhelming, and since you couldn’t bring in food or drink, there’s a good chance you could wait in line for an hour to get water. Seems dangerous, considering the number of older folks that had been hoofing it around all day.

SH: An efficient bus transportation network that connected all of the satellite parking lots.

AL: Having to pay $35 to park at a gas station due to flooding.

SH: Seven hours with my dad.

AL: Seven hours trying to keep up with my dad.

SH: The noise from the New York gallery.

AL: The failure of the golfers to keep a straight face when hearing some of the comments.

And the biggest SH of all: My clubs are now in the trunk of my car.

David Ortiz hit a homerun last night. His second of the year. He’s not back, and if you say he’s back, you haven’t been watching your baseball.

The Bruins, Celtics and Red Sox all won. The Portland Sea Dogs did as well (I was there, so I know). Happy Mother’s Day, Boston.

… I’ve already had to use my cell phone to make a last minute roster change.

… I’ve already had a baseball-related bad dream.

… I’ve already lamented (only half-jokingly) that my season is over.

… I’ve already begun to think about this year’s keepers.

… I’ve already said out loud “thank god baseball’s back.”

Good morning, everyone. You’re waking up to baseball today.

I love Opening Day more than any other day in sports for one very simple reason – ridiculous full-season projections. For me, there is no greater joy in sports fandom than extrapolating an entire season’s worth of events based only on one game. It is the height of comedy, and let no one tell you otherwise.

For instance, as of right now, the Red Sox are on pace for 162 consecutive rain-outs. Amazing, right? And Derek Lowe, after his impressive performance last night, is right on track for a stunning 33-0 season with a 0.00 ERA. Give that man an award! See how fun it is? And it’s not even noon!

I downloaded an old game for the PC last night called Escape Velocity. You play a pilot that travels the galaxy running cargo and passengers between various ports of call. You upgrade your ship from time to time, or save up and buy a new one. Mostly, the game is a long slog that consists of resource and energy management, maximizing profits on good trade routes, and enjoying the vastness of space. There are more exciting PC games out there to be sure, but for me, I love the comfort of knowing there’s a nice, comfortable game that you can casually play for a couple hours on a quiet weeknight. I feel the same way about baseball. Welcome back.