Jets Camp Report, Part 2: No Quarterback, No Cry

A pass sails from Kellen Clemens's hand, over his receiver's outstretched grasp, over his teammates assembled on the sidelines intently watching his every move. Noises of disgust leak out from the crowd, then a lone plea: "We want Favre."

It's Saturday. The morning is sweltering and the air is thick. Still many fans brave the heat to watch their team try to, well, become a team. The New York Jets at Hofstra University, like so many NFL teams in camps across the country, are deep into that business finding the best 22 for their starting line up and the best 53 for their roster.

But most important is merely one of those numbers. It's only the most important position on the field. And every head in the bleachers or up against the railing is craned to watch Clemens and Chad Pennington fight it out for the starting quarterback job.

But this isn't just a battle between Chad and Kellen. Both fight a different set of expectations. A certain graybeard quarterback from Green Bay via Mississippi looms over the preceedings.

No one knows how the Brett Favre drama will play out. Will he play? Will he call it day? Will he be in New York, Tampa, or Minneapolis? Will he stay on his tractor in Kiln?

One thing's for sure at the Jets camp, fans are clearly divided on who they support. A daring soul lifts a "Woody Cut the Check - Get Favre" sign. The Jets Secret Service - staffers in Jet green polos, visors, and sunglasses - take the sign and its waver. To where? I don't know. Maybe some seedy dungeon in the bowels of Hofstra to work him over.

I see a kid in a Favre jersey. It's the first non-Jets NFL apparel I've noticed all day. And I wonder about the statement this kid is making. Is he really sure what he wants?

As a lifelong Packers fan, I'm torn yet a little amused by the drama spilling over from tiny Green Bay into locales as far away as Hempstead, New York. The pitched battle between Chad and Kellen should be theater enough. But throw in a flaky legend and you've got a some serious Academy material.

All eyes focus on every pass thrown by Chad and Kellen. When Chad zips a pretty skinny post deep down the field, the cheers gasp out of the mouth of the crowd almost in relief. When Kellen tosses a too hot quick slant to Laveranues Coles which Coles bats up for an easy pick, the groans sound from every corner.

But I focus my thoughts on these New York fans. I wonder if they can handle Brett Favre, the highs and the lows. I've lived with guy's manic play for over half my life. I call upon large reservoirs of Wisconsin reserve, its own peculiar version of midwestern moderation, to get through the back breaking interceptions and the across-the-body, no look touchdown passes.

As I spend the day among them, some general observations on the New York fan emerge. Maybe these observations can shed light on how Favre in green and white instead of green and gold would look.

1. Booing is an inalienable right. There wasn't much booing during training camp. In fact, booing seems mostly reserved for interaction with other social groups, such as rival teams and fans. Booing though is not absent from the tribe's interaction with itself. Kellen received a good round for a fumbled snap.

In context of Favre, I imagine the first back breaking interception. In Lambeau, the field grows eerily quiet after the quick gasp of horror. In the Meadowlands, Favre wouldn't escaped quite so unscathed. Jets fans lustily boo their own team. It would be a new experience for the old man, though not for the Jets fans practiced in booing legends.

2. A little Pennington goes a long way. In the purely physical sense of the position, I doubt Chad is a very good quarterback. But he's undoubtedly a very good leader. And charming! The fans love Chad. And he loves them. I'm sure plenty of Jets fans because of his physical gifts want Kellen to shake his inconsistency and claim the starting spot. But I get the sense most would trade both their shoulders so Chad could throw a 15 yard out.

The Pennington charm is quick witted and cosmopolitan. Favre on the other hand is a big hick, or at least plays one on television. Favre tends to ramble and emote. His belief in his gambling game (I'm trying not to say 'gunslinging' here) is so thorough, so unapologetic, it borders on cockiness. Obviously, Favre brings a long resume and unique talents to the table, but the bumpkin routine might get a little old for these New York fans.

3. What happens in New York doesn't stay in New York. Obviously, the center of media, sports and otherwise, tends to blow New York accomplishments out of proportion. This tendency definitely trickles down to the fans. It operates at some level for fans of every team, but in greater proportion for the New York teams. It's Broadway Joe straddling Hollywood Boulevard.

Here's some real harmony. Favre truly possesses a flair for the dramatic, does amazing things under the glare of the lights. Maybe even milks his hardships just a bit, not too much. not enough that it's distasteful, but enough to remind you what you're watching. Favre can cook it and New York will eat it up. The relationship portends to be rocky, but i doubt either side would have it any another way.

In the end, the Favre to New York rumors are a little far fetched. My Saturday at Hofstra confirmed that this New York team is a great unknown, populated with big men and big question marks. Favre wants to go to a contender, maybe he only wants to go to Minnesota.

But you ask the kid hanging around in the Favre jersey if he knows just what he wants and he might be telling the truth, his eyes going wide as he says, "Are you kidding me?!"

Jets Camp Report, Part 1: Hunting Big Game

This year is the last year the New York Jets camp at Hofstra University. Every year since 1968 the Jets organization - players, coaches, staffers and front office types - invade the utilitarian campus to begin that arduous task of becoming a team.

Hofstra is a good school bounded by expressways, overrun by its suburban surroundings. It's certainly no idyllic pastoral campus like St. Vincent's College in Latrobe, Pennsylvania.

Still, Leon Washington insists he will miss it.

"It's the people that you meet around here," he says. "The people you run into around town, in the grocery store, at the barber shop, I've had some great conversations at the barber shop. They're just good people, they love this team. And I will miss it."

When I ask if he will miss living in the dorms, however, Leon laughs and admits it's not his favorite part of camp.

Hofstra is also the last link the New York Jets have to New York. When they move training camp to their New Jersey complex next year, all of the organization's attachments to the city and state whose name it shares will be broken.

No one is suggesting an Angels-like rename, though. The New York Jets of Giants Stadium, New Jersey isn't bound to make anyone happy.

I have no particular love for the Jets. Nor do they factor largely into any of my few sports hatreds. For the most part the Jets are simply a hard luck franchise that I want my Packers to beat when we face off every four years or so.

So why did I rise groggily at 5 a.m. on a Saturday and catch the LIRR to sleepy Hempstead intent on taking in both of their scheduled practices for the day?

Good question.

There's something about this Jets team portending to be either dangerous or disastrous.

Quarterback is obviously the big question mark. The New York media is howling for the Jets to move heaven and earth to snare the disgruntled old Packer. Against this din, the savvy veteran Chad Pennington and the young, live arm Kellen Clemens are battling for the starting spot.

But there's more to this team than just who's under center. Yes, that is the biggest story, but I'm here for the biggest man on the field, the one over center. Kris Jenkins, that is. Jenkins and what he represents for the Jets' fortunes this year.

Kris is part of an altogether different ethos for this team. The Jets have burned high draft picks, big free agent dollars, and valuable trade chips to build a team stout in the offensive and defensive fronts. They've gone with youth in tackle D'Brickashaw Ferguson, center Nick Mangold, and linebacker Vernon Gholston. And they've gone with experience in guard Alan Faneca, linebacker Calvin Pace, and nose tackle Jenkins.

It's an old school focus, smacks of hallowed football logic: if you build it in the trenches, the victories will come. But can these 2008 Jets bear that out?

The temperature is already soaring by 8:45 a.m. when the Jets start their morning practice. Consequently, most of the team looks sluggish running through and going between their position drills.

The practice is not without its highlights.

The rookie Gholston lays the biggest hit early, drawing gasps the crowd. Pennington threads the needle on a skinny post, flashing more velocity than he did all of last year, giving the crowd reason to cheer almost in relief.

Leon Washington often looks the best skill position player on the field in the hot morning. He zips around the field turning broken screens into hard-earned gains, flare routes into ankle breaking tours through the secondary. Washington credits his offseason work for his ever improving play.

"I just came in and talked with the strength and conditioning coach after the season and really talked to him about how can I improve my game," He says. "It's just getting stronger in the weight room really, keeping up with guys like Thomas Jones and just staying desperate."

No doubt, the Jets need Washington to step up and improve upon a very good last year as a kick returner and all-purpose weapon. But the team also needs to ring a lot of production from their newest players, Faneca and Jenkins especially.

Watching the Jets two new big names, one thing stood out, both Faneca and Jenkins talk a lot.

During the 11-on-11 sessions, Faneca constantly leans over to the young Ferguson with some insight or another, whether getting set in their stances or along the sidelines when the second and third units were in.

Jenkins talks to everyone and no one in particular all the time. His helmet is always off until the last moment before the snap.

The clockwork timing of the 11-on-11's is thrown off when Jenkins dresses down the entire starting defense for sloppiness. Later, Jenkins and Kellen Clemens exchange words over a disputed call between the third string units. They cross the field to jaw at each other but walk back to their respective sidelines after trading those "this is just football, everything's cool" man slaps on the shoulder pads.

Unfortunately, for all his talking, I'm not able to talk with Kris Jenkins. There's a certain irony in hunting out the biggest game on the field and not being able to lock in on him.

Washington tells me that Jenkins is always up for hashing it with the young guys about on and off the field stuff. He tells me Jenkins is always willing to listen, always willing to offer his opinion.

The morning is a rough one for Jenkins and the defense. Outside of a couple plays, the heat burns out the defensive front seven. By evening, the temperatures cool and the practice responds in kind by looking crisper in tempo and execution. It's tough to tell, what with the Jets spending so much on both sides of the ball, if the back and forth battle indicates both lines are thriving or struggling. Sometimes Faneca gets Jenkins off the point with a double team. Sometimes Jenkins blows up Mangold at the spot.

In all, I leave Saturday night without stealing a word or two from Jenkins. I wanted his take on this new New York life, this new New York team. What these Jets can be, maybe that's nothing anyone can know until midway through the season.

I try to pin Leon Washington down on the expectations for this team's 2008. He's cautious not to provide any bulletin board material, not to come off as cocky or brash. Should I tell him I don't have any interest in nailing him to the wall?

I sense some vague optimism amidst the players' post practice fatigue while signing autographs. Fans clamor for a scribble of marker. The players take the wishes of luck in stride. The fans wonder excitedly if Dustin Keller is as good as they hope.

But isn't this just the season for tracking hopes, elusive ones and ones maybe a little too big?

gone fishin'

apologies for the lack of content this week. seemed like a good time to grab the old rods (wait, that doesn't sound right) and head to the fishin' hole (and neither does that really).

ironically enough, it's not a lack of work - i have a ton of writing done and ready to go. unfortunately, it's all in limbo at the moment. i just want it published in the right venue, that's all i'll say about it. i'll sort this out and have some or all of it up or linked through tomorrow.

thanks for your patience.

photo from this orlando sentinel article.

lessons from a bald eagle tattoo

jeremy shockey to new orleans, here's where my head is at. i have a lot to say about the shockey trade. i have nothing to say about the shockey trade. dizziness. hunger. repeat.

recommendation first. snarkastic drops the shockey love fest. a world in which jeremy shockey is the greatest/worst ex-boyfriend never had is one i hadn't conceived of before but is endlessly entertaining.

stat eaters. look for jason witten numbers from a couple years ago - 70-80 receptions, 800-900 yards, 5-7 touchdowns - when sean payton had a hand in the dallas offense. a top notch tight end is manna for a playfake and rollout quarterback like drew brees. yet i don't buy the drew brees to antonio gates comparison (80+ rec, 1000+ yds, 10+ tds). foremost, those 04-05 chargers had no better receiving threat than gates. the saints have colston and his ridiculously mature game.

culture mavens. shockey's true import is perpetually shrouded in confusion. in an era of great tight ends, he's not nearly the most productive, though he might be the most talented in all facets of the game. you can say 'old school' and pencil him in at the top of the list with todd heap and heath miller trailing closely behind. you can stick him on a bill with the biggest talkers in the game - joey porter, ray lewis, chad johnson - sell the tickets, and shake your head or laugh (deciding later if it's 'laugh at' or 'laugh with'). there's no denying, though, shockey brings swagger to a team perilously close to losing its america's sweetheart label - this ought to push that over the edge.

idealists, new orleans. shockey adds nothing to the new orleans revitalization effort - like so many tourists to the french quarter - and possibly de-legitimizes any claim the saints produce tangible good for the city outside of game day revenue. this isn't necessarily a bad thing. the saints are a football team and exist for the sole purpose of having something to care about especially when so much else in the world is shit.

idealists, new york. the hallowed concept of team chemistry is now on trial. the giants trade a truly or nearly elite player for locker room harmony and some draft picks. granted draft picks are precious, but if the giants falter this year and the saints break through, then jerry reese will have to duck beneath hurled cabbage for a long time. that same new york media which elevated shockey on and off the field to semi-mythic proportions will hound the giants front office and coaching staff should the champs not properly defend their crown.

i can't help but think back on my practice theory riff on the myth of chemisty. one could've made the case that the giants were heading into this season with a perfect storm of lower expectations and fortunate circumstances - playing through the nfc west, shockey's return offsetting strahan's retirement in the cosmic talent balance.

to outside observers the team again appeared a dysfunctional hodgepodge of talent and ineptitude, shockey foremost at the center of controversy. even as champs, no one gave them much of a chance. but now the giants claim chemistry as their battle standard, in effect raising expectations while lowering their chances. what they've got is the antithesis of the drop on their situation. what they've lost, perhaps, is the chance to upset the league a second time.

strangely normal

my hatred of the minnesota vikings is deep and wide, to that i'll freely admit. somehow, though, i don't let that unjustly spill over to the players themselves (outside of love boat-like scandals). perhaps it's a curious side effect of football's uniform, the face obscuring helmet, the body morphing pads. in some sense the anonymity makes it easier to separate the individual from the cause.

a few of my favorite players currently play for the vikings, the brothas williams, adrian peterson, and matt birk. i like them all for different reasons: pat's dominance, kevin's knack for disorder, adrian's transcendence, and matt's smart game and quirky honesty.

birk was the focus of an in-depth profile in the star tribune last weekend. unwittingly, birk found himself at the center of some media controversy by steering clear of all voluntary camps and activities this offseason.

the 31 year old veteran who's been the good soldier for the balance of his career is without a contract past the 2008 season. and the team hasn't expressed interest in locking him up for the future. while absent, the speculation of his reasons ran to the extreme, claiming birk intended to hold until a new deal was in place. really he was just putting his priorities in place. the ever thoughtful birk finally responded:

It was kind of silly. One, I'm a center. I'm not the cornerstone of the franchise for crying out loud. I said, 'OK, I'm not getting any extension, I've got three little kids at home driving my wife nuts and I've got a fourth one coming. Mike Morris is a really good friend of mine, and I really like working out with him'.

in the narrow realm of sports, birk's complete and individual approach to his life is rare and often undermined at best and reviled at worst by coaches, management, and sometimes fans. indeed, birk caught some flack for his decision. and perhaps that's a sentiment even he can understand. in the same article he later said:

I do think there is something romantic and tragic about playing until your body gives out or until they peel the jersey off you. ... But life changes quick and you don't know. I'm not just thinking about myself. There's other people I need to think about.

as the vikings will use up birk's body until they're ready to toss him aside, he seems content to offer only what he needs to offer of himself to be a great player and still a good dad and husband.

compare birk's situation with another news item from this weekend. the packers cornerback charles woodson is, among his many eccentricities, a wine aficionado. so much so, he started his own label with a good friend in the wine business. however, the league is tying woodson's hands when it comes to promoting his wine.

woodson has always been a maverick. perhaps this obsession with wine demonstrates it even more clearly than his piano lessons and allen iverson-like regard for practice. in the earlier part of the decade, during the raiders training camp in napa valley, woodson, ever the loner, sought out the restaurants up and down the valley. from there an interest blossomed into a hobby into a side business, a label called twentyfour. (check his wine's website, especially the photo album.)

the nfl claims however promoting his wine might set a bad example for kids. never mind the nfl shills crappy beer only fit to slug. and never mind woodson is promoting a drinking culture that prides itself on responsible and sophisticated consumption. we're not talking about night train or wild irish rose here. forget the hypocrisy, why the lack of respect for true responsible drinking?

i can't wait to read dr z's take on this whole ridiculous business.

birk tries simply to balance family and career. woodson cultivates an age old, and very legal, hobby and business. yet both are catching hell in the strange world of pro football. i don't know if the base critique lies with american culture in general or the nfl's twist on american culture. i just know that it's weird that two of the best in the business, guys that have played at pro bowl levels and fought through injuries to see the field, must defend their very normal, very admirable off field actions.

honestly, who's the one setting a bad example here?

99 + 99 = ?

yesterday's lightning speed trade of jason taylor from the dolphins to the redskins is generally receiving positive reviews from the depths of offseason inertia. si's peter king, yahoo's jason cole, and espn's john clayton all cast taylor's new team, new situation as a good fit. but is the match really all puppies, ice cream, and sunshine?

taylor finally finds his way to a playoff team. bill parcells netting a second and sixth round draft pick amasses more chips in his miami rebuilding project. and the redskins nab a big name slightly before the downside of his career.

granted the situation on both ends of the trade was unique. the redskins suddenly found themselves in desperate need of a starting end after the first day of training camp when left end phillip daniels went down with a torn acl. daniels though 35 was a solid run stopper and versatile enough to move inside on passing downs. daniels's game, controlling the point of attack, complimented right end andre carter's upfield attack in washington's scheme.

the main criticism surrounding the trade's value for washington questions taylor's commitment to football after an offseason where jason mused aloud about playing one maybe two more seasons. if the redskins challenge into the playoffs, taylor could be enticed to into a contract extension past 2009. however, should the team falter due to old age and injuries on defense or youth and inexperience on the offense and coaching staff, taylor might be discouraged enough to hang up his cleats.

that's a mighty unknown, but more fundamentally, does taylor's game really fit what the redskins do? at the left end, the tall, lanky taylor will be charged with run stopping and read-and-react responsibility. power ends tend to be the bigger, bulkier ends. on the other side, the blindside ends, or right ends, are usually the quicker ones, often sacrificing some bulk for that speed.

during his time in miami, taylor's lined up at almost every point in the front seven. his best has come when he's given the latitude to freelance, selecting his points of attack. taylor's more of a natural blindside rusher if we must shoehorn his play into a specific responsibility.

given how washington's defense is constructed, taylor looks to have less room to freelance. the redskins are often aggressive. how much they remain so this year with the departure of coordinator gregg williams remains to be seen. still with andre carter on one side and taylor on the other, the line is bookended by relatively light, speed guys.

like the colts small line, the redskins might sacrifice the point of attack for more upfield pressure. washington was quite good against the run last year and solid if unspectacular against the pass. no doubt the team lines up talented corners in carlos rogers and shawn springs. and taylor definitely represents an upgrade over the injured daniels, a solid player with a good career nonetheless.

still i can't help but wonder about how the two ends, the old 99 and the new 99, will mesh. carter's performed best when the redskins start rolling out their creative stunts and loops. taylor's one of the best freelancers in the game. on the one hand, it's a recipe for disaster, or at the very least a set of diminishing returns.

on the other hand, dividing up the front seven between their two distinct skill sets, one devoted to precision attack, the other to a more primordial chaos brims with real next level potential.

coordinator greg blanche is a defensive line specialist, working under the departed williams the last several years. whether he's ballsy and creative enough to really cut loose and play to his new star's strengths remains to be seen. in fact, even though there's no way in hell the league would allow it, i wish the skins would issue taylor a #99 jersey and let carter keep his as well. the two could play the field at complimentary odds like a left brained and right brained display of one crazy defensive mind.

Practice Theory #4 or the Lure Of Lost Causes

To watch our teams win or lose, nominally, this is why we tune into the games. The sport like any is a culture of results, an assemblage of outcomes. What's his forty time? How many touchdowns until the record? When's the last time they won?

Football champions clarity, it vilifies equivocation. There's undeniable appeal in the simplicity of it all.

Yet almost any game humans play offers such clarity without attracting quite the same interest or devotion. Flip a coin a hundred times and a hundred times you'll never know the outcome until the coin comes to its rest. Just don't televise the National Coin Flipping Championships.

I've spent much of the previous Practice Theory riffs fleshing out the aspects unique to football that draw us in: Chaos Theory, Tecmo Talent, the Myth of 'Chemisty'... So far, the focus has been on the game as it unravels, as it is played.

This one's different. The lost cause anticipates the outcome and balances its plaintive hope against it. We know the Falcons are going to suck this year. it's simply a shame that Keith Brooking and Michael Boley will torpedo their bodies in service (defiance?) of that losing cause. Why? Winning is easy. Losing is easy. Losing and desperately trying again and again is hard.

A keen mind told me the previous Practice Theory riffs read like a love letter to football. That may be. Decorum is not my strong suit and I haven't figured out how to unstitch my heart from my sleeve.

Pardon me then if I don't want to overly romanticize this defiance in the face of defeat. Forget the elegy. Concentrate on the grinning charge into battle, a warrior's complete faith in his skills despite the stacked odds. It's not YA Tittle's bloodied and dazed head, it's Tittle lacing up his cleats the next season ready to take that pounding again.

So whose lost cause do we cheer into the fray this season?

Frank Gore and the Sebirth of the 49ers. san Fran was the dynasty of our youth. They provided the answer to every key question. Montana, Rice, Young, Lott. Their status as a decade and a half powerhouse was nearly as unlikely as their crash and burn was dramatic. Two years ago, cautious optimism crept in again. Mike Nolan in the suits of his father stalking the sidelines. Volleys fired at the division's bully Seattle. And Frank Gore charging through lines arranged yet unable to contain his brutality.

All those high hopes dissipated in the internecine struggles of a lost last season. Coach and quarterback openly feuded. Injuries mounted. And Frank Gore's back wasn't big enough to carry the team to even the edge of mediocrity. With Mike Martz as the new coordinator, Gore will attempt to reprise the role of Marshall Faulk from the Greatest Show on Turf days. He'll smash and scamper. He'll put on a performance of mastery surrounded by a field of fugly. But it won't be enough to save these broken 49ers.

Keith Brooking and Michael Boley, Falcons linebackers. Brooking's career isn't that of Tommy Nobis, another long time Falcons linebacker whose greatness was buried in the franchise's perennial awfulness. But the consummate pro is staring down tough times in Hotlanta most likely for the remainder of his career. An old school seek and destroy backer, Brooking's play is complemented by the emergent Michael Boley at the weakside spot. Boley's play isn't flashy, he's just always where he needs to be. He makes plays, he just makes them look easy.

The Falcon's big rebuilding job is off to a rocky start. While time will bear out the truth of this statement, Atlanta's draft this year is boom or bust. Kansas City instead assembled the draft that Atlanta should have had. Brooking and Boling could've made some noise with solid, especially provided some front line help in Glenn Dorsey. Instead, the team will try to sell tickets with Matt Ryan's face and not-Michael-Vick-ness. instead, Brooking and Boley will be holding it down, while the defense breaks down around them.

Domata Peko, Bengals defensive tackle. Is it possible to single anyone out for praise on those terrible Cincinnati defenses the last two years? Call me crazy, but yes. When I watched the Bengals last year, Peko working in tandem with Justin Smith hustled hard, shot gaps, ran down plays on the backside, their skill making the defense's desperation all that more apparent.

Smith is gone now, off to the fat contract land of San Francisco. So Peko is left to man a line with more youth and more inexperience than last season. If rookies Keith Rivers and Pat Sims get up to speed quickly, it will likely be due in part to Peko shouldering a bigger role. His game's not perfect by any stretch, but his quickness and hustle stand in for his still evolving technique. I don't expect much from Cincinnati this year, but I do expect Domata to bust the point of attack more often than not.

46 Defense, Raiders. Rob Ryan's stint coordinating the Oakland defense has been up and down, it only feels like stability given the flux around him. He failed implementing a 3-4 defense and smartly shifted to a 4-3. They ran it well in 2006, less so in 2007. The defense doesn't lack for athletes (do the Raiders ever?) but there's something lacking at the heart of the defense. Rob, spawn of Buddy Ryan, is certainly creative and flexible. But unlike his brother Rex in Baltimore, Rob doesn't have the personnel to run the 46, that brazen alignment on which Buddy built his career.

Oakland possesses the corners to bump and run in Nnamdi Asomugha and Deangelo Hall. Kirk Morrison is solid inside, Thomas Howard promising outside. Tommy Kelly is good if overpaid as a jack knife along the line. But the lack of depth along the line and in the backing corps will prevent Ryan from really unleashing the full extent of his creativity. The 46 with its whirring backers and shooting linemen is sight to behold when it comes correct, but it's a complete disaster without the requisite talent. Ryan will likely have to play it too cautious again this season, waiting still for the right personnel to really let it fly.

Calvin Johnson and Roy Williams, Lions receivers. Calvin Johnson will be the new truth eventually, of that there is little doubt. Roy Williams can slide through the secondary with the best of them. Both possess the talent to play the number one in almost any receiving corps. Their combined talents are enough for any opposing coordinator to construct a game plan specifically to stop them from killing their defense. Yet their talents will be wasted in Detroit, toiling for a Lions franchise whose only concern is selling out the stadium even though they fail at that task in a sports mad part of the country.

Ps a packers fan I hate the Vikings and Bears... I just pity the Lions. Everyone on the team seems so cuddly and safe (invoking the Ernie Simms exception). But Calvin strikes fear in my heart and Roy creates curses in mouth. With a regression of objectives, however - the Lions will be more concerned establishing a power running game doomed to failure than using their two best weapons - I feel cheated as an opponent. There's not much satisfaction in beating a foe because they're an organization-wide madhouse. Roy might slip away from Detroit next year... And Calvin might follow in a few... And the Lions will have squandered an opportunity to render their opponents' coverage irrelevant.

green bay and extended sexual metaphors

head over to throwing into traffic today where zac was kind enough to ask me for a preview of the green bay packers upcoming season. i of course respond by crafting an extended metaphor around the politics of make-up sex. if that doesn't entice you to click the link, i really don't know what will. check back tomorrow for another practice theory riff and more.

transmissions from fetal position

what the fuck? did the bomb have to drop the fucking minute i go on vacation?

i am in philadelphia - city of broken glass and mustaches both sincere and smarmy - visiting friends, witness to the phillies spanking at the hands of a 44 year old pitcher. all the while, in my blissful ignorance, the vacillations of another old man are plotting against my future happiness.

i learn of the newest media shitstorm from a guy handing me a glass of scotch at a party. no complaints with the scotch. the confirmation of brett favre's demands and the packer's response, however, left a nasty aftertaste.

at first i'm bothered by the logical fallacies in the exchange. favre demands to be released. the packers decline and offer him a position as backup to aaron rodgers. the team won't release favre because they fear his skills employed by a hated rival. yet to place him behind rodgers on the depth chart carries a different message about his abilities.

when logic won't avail, i drink a little more quickly than usual (given my propensity to slug the sauce i turn into some sort of lightning round version of myself). but the knots in my stomaching still weave their tight patterns.

everything i say about the subject ends unfinished, smothered in garbled curses. in the end, i revisit the words i wrote on favre's retirment in march. how did i feel about his retirement then?

maybe his accomplishments do fall short of his legend. yet i don't measure my love of the game by championships alone. i just know that gift favre possesses of changing around the dimensions of the field to suit the improbable play is something we as fans won't see again soon, not in the same way at least.

as fan of the sport, his return is intriguing, even exciting. as a fan of the green bay packers, i'm torn. torn by wanting that singular talent even in retrograde to lead the young roster. yet i fear for the future of the team, youth prepared for the last several months to claim their identity this season, that monumental and unavoidable task.

i can only imagine green bay is cannibalizing itself right now - as long as the franchise doesn't transform into kronos and turn on its young. the rallies have already started. but so has the grim shaking of heads, a quality of the cautious wisconsin character that disdains dithering and avoids controversy.

how to deal with the deadspinners and favre haters? or worse, the favre worshippers and the fawning media? i'm just a goddamn packers fan. i want my team to win the super bowl every february, ruthlessly crushing every foe during a 108 game winning streak.

the sports center generation has come down hard on favre these last few years, a logical response to the media's deification of him. i've tried to remain aloof from the fray, but it's moments like this that make it difficult to meet the eyes of slyly grinning friends, well crafted insults poised to strike.

tomorrow i'll have more on the elderly's abuse of the young, the sudden death of the offseason, and the fortunes of the cheesehatted over at throwing into traffic. until then, if you find me by the side of the road don't kick me further in the gutter, but don't assume i'm scrounging for change either.

west fucking virginia/pat fucking white

fuhbaw devotes most of its energy to the pros, that's obvious enough. but i enjoy the college game unfettered by the need to make sense of it. i don't have a rooting interest, my alma mater - a division 3 school important in the rise of college football but irrelevant nationally since the 40s - cultivates an academic aloofness about its football squad.

that leaves me free to root solely for players. and right now, pat white is my main man. rich rod is gone. and i don't have high hopes for bill stewart in the long term - tears of joy before the fiesta bowl is over is a little much - but i think pat white wills this team through the season.



check these highlights of pat white breaking ankles all over the field. i know the speed is faster in the pros, but tell he's not the next josh cribbs on returns with a serious donald driver upside at receiver if he's got hands (i'm thinking thin body, sloppy route running, and major after the catch yardage).

if you require more food for your head, check out zac's elegy for matt jones at throwing into traffic. all right, i'm off to philly to get a cheesesteak.

do NOT click this link!

i'm serious: do not click the links in this post. navigating the wealth of sports writing online can be an arduous undertaking. bloggers and journalists jostle each other for position in this wide open field. snark or craft? innovation or sleepwalking?

both sides have their drawbacks. both can resort to cheap tactics to drum up page views.

since i write and am therefore compelled to read a bunch of shit i'd rather not read - see, i must stay on top of what hack analysis don banks is spouting so i can lap his ass even though i lack contacts and training - i thought i'd save you, dear reader, some precious time and braincells.

below are links to articles you should not read along with a synopsis so curiousity won't get the better of you. you save yourself five minutes, i purge the dross from my brain. everyone wins! (sorta.)

'packers' hand being forced' by michael silver. did you read peter king's article monday detailing the various scenarios in the brett favre un-retiring clusterfuck? good (if not, you should). then you have virtually no reason to read michael silver's tuesday column. silver simply restates what king hustled to confirm, that favre did in fact express interest in returning to the team.

oh, sure, silver waxes on at length about football being a cutthroat business, but his analysis in a vacuum approach - suggesting that favre and aaron rodgers battle for the starting spot in training camp - does little more than stick a knee in the crotch of this week's monumental storyline.

'favre should come back immediately' by andrew perloff. perloff is sports illustrated's version of blogger, running the football side of their fan nation site. i have this image of perloff painfully combing the web for everyone's opinion, then creating a graph with the 'x' axis as least agreeable and the 'y' axis as least intellectually challenging, then filling in the blanks to his si.com approved 'this is a blog post' form.

okay, that's a little harsh. but perloff does have some annoying writing tendencies. flatten people into two dimensional characters, check. vacillate wildly in the middle of the post, check. in this one, perloff starts with saying favre should come back, moves to praising rodgers as a leader and the team's bind, then concluding with favre should just play for the green bay. trust me, that makes it sound more informative than it is.

'expect wade phillips to be gone next season' by jean-jacques taylor. this is a tough time in the nfl season. even the weeks immediately following the draft are littered with minicamp reports and bios of sixth round camp bodies. and taylor has written some good stuff, providing a good social perspective (like the sheer number of strip clubs in the dallas area to tempt pacman jones). but this one, eh, this one's a cheap attention getter.

while the premise isn't ridiculous - that wade phillips is in his last year, either winning a super bowl into retirement or being axed because of another playoff disappointment - taylor doesn't really add any new insight to a topic discussed every couple of months. and there's no explanation of why phillips wasn't fired at this most recent playoff disappointment. taylor's better than this and he knows it.

Practice Theory #3: the Drop

The most elusive quality to the game is also one of its most essential. A lot of words/phrases paw weakly its import. Chemistry, teamwork, the perfect fit, an ideal situation. Is the unexpected feat truly as simple as the fates aligning?

Dull color commentary and vapid studio analysis stomps terms like chemistry and teamwork into dust when some quality of the game defies their canned logic. But looking past these glassy-eyed repetitions, there's something vital beating underneath the surface.

A hundred cases are buzzing round my head: the indignation of Patriots fans in loss, Steve Young following the legend, Marshall Faulk reviving the Rams, etc. Moments when expectations aren't so much defied as shocked into irrelevance. In hindsight, the chance of a few talented parts forging a greater whole becomes a destined convergence.

Far be it from me to deny the myth making power of the game. But this post hoc logic is particularly cringe inducing, the kind of thinking that may work for Bob Costas (hustling the storyline to the masses) but misses the true point.

Instead, something inherent in the game works in tandem with a freedom from expectations. I'm reminded of an argument with a Patriots fan a few weeks back. Some corner of the party where this guy was dismissing the Giants victory in 42 as luck. Play the game a hundred times and New England win 99 of them, he said.

I'd heard it before in the wake of the 42. lucky for all of us, Patriots fans included, the games cannot be played a hundred times - or even seven times - to crown our victors, our champions. It's too brutal, it's perfectly brief. Unlike most other major team sports, the taxing quality of the game isn't its grind, it's the game's intensity.

The chance bouncing of the ball - literally and figuratively - plays right into the hands of the players or teams or cities unburdened with heavy expectations. That's the Drop. The Giants had the drop on every single one of their playoff opponents during their run last season. They simply played the game and left the meaning to us.

The Drop is a tricky one. I'm less confident, almost by definition, on where we should seek it out. But I'm going to follow my gut which follows only my eyes. So who's got the Drop on this season?

Kawika Mitchell and the Bills linebackers. Kawika isn't the biggest or the fastest or even the best. But Buffalo ponied up for Mitchell because he gives their defense something it lacked: the ability to beat the Patriots. Every year, the Super Bowl produces players from the winning team that cash in big on the tender of their postseason play. But Mitchell was a key piece at weakside backer in the Giants super bowl victory. He faked, he chucked, he executed Spagnuolo's game plan to perfection.

Take Kawika, a healthy Paul Posluszny, and a solid Angelo Crowell, and the Bills can be a complete three, craftiness and craft at the weakside, stoutness at the middle, and athleticism on the strongside. Plus, Kawika breaks down the game plan to frustrate New England. Remember that this was a team in playoff contention until the final weeks. If the Bills steal one game away from the Patriots, they've at least cleared themselves a shot at the Wild Card.

Pierre Thomas, Saints running back. I love Deuce, but on two busted knees I don't see how he can continue to charge into the line. And the Saints need to convert Reggie into a more explosive version of Frank Gifford, a modern day flanker-halfback hybrid, because I can't stand to watch him stutter step to the line. Aaron Stecker's a nifty little back that catches the ball well. But if the Saints want to pound in-between the tackles to open up their game for the Reggie in space and Drew Brees on the rollout, they should turn to Pierre their best inside runner.

In college, Thomas was the feature back in Illinois's spread offense. His jump to the nfl was certainly in question. Still he flashed a lot in preseason, showing the league wasn't too big for him. Inexperience buried him deep on the depth chart, but given what's ahead of him, now is Pierre's time. He fearlessly hits the line. And, while he's no Marion Barber, I like the stuff Pierre runs with, a little swagger, a little desperation. The Saints need a little swagger and a little desperation to take back the South.

Browns receivers. News of Joe Jurevicius's fourth knee surgery hasn't killed big expectations for Cleveland's upcoming season, but it's certainly tapped some long held impending dread the city feels. Odd perhaps, because Jurevicius is a nothing more than a solid receiver nearing the end of his run. Yet with Braylon Edwards at the one and newly signed Donte' Stallworth at the two, the idea slipping a crafty, slow white receiver into the slot and making defenses account for all three is an intoxicating thought.

Now however, Jurevicius might be forced to retire. And while Braylon will continue to ascend and Donte' will at the very least infuriate defenses from time to time, there's still no Cleveland answer for third and long. Josh Cribbs is a talent alone, but like his counterpart in the renaissance of return men, Devin Hester, he's been nothing but a pedestrian receiver at best. If Cleveland is smart, they'll watch the packers training camp closely, a team that has too many promising receivers, and pick up whichever slot machine doesn't make the roster squeeze. Until camp, I'm just a little deflated on Browns potential to challenge greatness.

New York City, Kris Jenkins, Jets nose tackle. Fuhbaw loves Kris Jenkins, that's no secret. When he's on top of his game, which is a matter of his anger and swagger, he's unblockable. Injuries and malaise took the last couple seasons from him in Carolina. By all accounts, Kris is ecstatic to get his ass out of Carolina sticks and into the heart of the empire.

While I believe Kris will bring it playing in the Jets scheme, a true nose tackle which they've lacked, perhaps the best part is Jenkins in the center of sports media. He's cocky, he's smart... He loves the game and he hates Warren Sapp. Best of all, Kris is a bastion of honesty standing in stark contrast to the bland non-answers of the NFL locker room. if the New York media is wise, they'll get on Jenkins good side and set him loose. The big man might take the Big Apple in one bite.

no supplements

i am a tempest of swirling emotions over the brett favre situation, but i need more knowledge before i can offer anything besides verbal suicide. in the meantime, i want to shine a light on something completely different: the supplemental draft, or rather 2008's lack of it.

word came down the end of last week, no supplemental draft this year. frankly, i'm going to miss it. the supplemental draft always offers unique if often troubled characters with some freakish athletic talent thrown in for good measure.

somehow this year is different. with the nfl's speak loudly and carry a big stick approach to off-field troubles - the hallmark of roger goodell's tenure so far - teams are more and more weary of taking a chance on playmakers that are also troublemakers.

perhaps in line with this, no players applied to this year's supplemental draft. a few names were rumored to be in the running. rey maualuga, brandon pettigrew, and bj raji are all returning to college. more surprisingly brandon ore the recently dismissed running back of virginia tech and michael brown the disciplined tackle for mississippi state both didn't apply.

one can't help but wonder if the stigma of the supplemental draft taken in tandem with their troubled reputations convinced ore and brown to seek a different route? for instance, rehabilitate their wounded images in fcs ball.

the supplemental draft is a microcosm of one of the nfl's major dialemmas. one the one hand, winning and the talent necessary to win takes top priority. the league is a cutthroat world. the results are clearly read in a win-loss record. past accomplishments fade quickly. everyone's looking for an edge.

on the other hand, the sport relies almost entirely on perception. coaches rest their authority on perceived confidence or toughness. players win battles on the field by combining talent and poise and turning them into intimidation. fans root desperately for their teams because they create an elusive and intangible connection to them. and the league draws all of us - and our fat wallets - into its yearly storyline because we all believe the game is (relatively) fair and is populated with people worth cheering for.

somewhere between those two extremes is the supplemental draft, the g.e.d. path to the nfl.

a misfit's hope, the desperate's game of chance, optimism's bounds, the past's elephant memory... the supplemental draft occupies a strange place in the history of the league. almost every player drafted in the supplemental draft bears a big red flag. whether it's brian bosworth's demands, manny wright's depression, or cris carter's clandestine deal, each player has been churned through the wheels of the system.

yet their gifts, athletic and otherwise, allow these players one nearly final recourse for an nfl career. it's fitting then that the supplemental draft started out for one player's special case. al hunter was booted off the notre dame team in 1977 for violating school rules. hunter possessed all the qualifications for the nfl, but his disciplining took place after the deadline for the regular draft.

despite the tendency of pro sports in general, and football in particular, to be unforgiving, the nfl chose to offer hunter a second chance of sorts. second chances are in short supply, but the supplemental draft transformed into its own little institution over the years.

not many great players were selected among the 37 in the past three decades. jamal williams, mike wahle, cris carter, bobby humphrey, and bernie kosar are the sole pro bowl players. ahmad brooks of the bengals has the potential to be solid, but most players put together careers echoing hunter's. in his four years with the seahawks, hunter took 180 carries 715 yards for only four touchdowns.

maybe the risks are outweighing the benefits. maybe the nfl's push to polish up the league's reputation is taking its toll. but somehow i don't think the supplemental is going away forever. the league is too reliant on hope and a gambler's taste for recklessness.

and you shall know him by his special teams prowess

one of the unfortunate side effects of the traditional media vs bloggers weak-wristed slap fest is this notion that bloggers need to defend themselves as new media in terms of old media. traditional media bitches about bloggers not carrying credentials. bloggers bitch about mainstream media using their credentials for evil or claim they do in fact have sources. journalists retort that they think bloggers wear stupid shoes. bloggers counter that they prefer the freedom of open-toed shoes... and on and on, into the infinity of stupidity.

what's lost in this clusterfuck of logic is the freedom that blogs as a form allow. some blogs are dedicated to breaking news. some to dirty jokes. others to in-depth analysis posted a day late. and still others to giving a unique and little seen perspective on sports.

with that last one in mind, i present the blog of cowboys backup linebacker kevin burnett. i'll let kevin's words do the talking.

on a $5,000 fine for trash talking:

You want to know what I said to #27 from the team up north. I simply said "you can't run me over from your back, can you". You would think it would have been more than that for 5g's, but it wasn't. No colorful words, no mama talk, just a simple question, it wasn't the question that got me in trouble. It was the gesture (me standing over him) that got me the infamous FED- EX. When you get one you know your out of some money. Thats what I said no more no less.

on watching weight:

To maintain weight without exercise simply cut the sugar out of your diet after 1pm. Nothing white (bread, rice, milk, potatoes, etc.) in color after 2pm and you should stay right where you are. Of course there is always the Stairmaster.

on reading the pass:

There are also two more element that come in to play during a pass. One being route combination and your looking for blitz break off or hot routes, and the dreaded fish hook (if something is in front of you then something is behind you). DON'T BIT THE HOOK(short route). Lastly your reading the qbs eyes and as soon as he take his hand off the ball you have to react like a scalded DOGG(just a saying) "DONT CALL PETA".

kevin, you are my new favorite blogger.

lolcontracts

an interesting skirmish of words is shaping up between the nfl's commish and the players' union head. lines are forming in the larger battle between the owners and players as the cba is set to expire in 2011 and the salary cap to dissappear in 2010. and the issue of rookie contracts is one likely battleground in the coming negotiations.

last friday, goodell addressed a crowd in western new york on many topics, but received the largest press for his comments on the state of rookie contracts and the possibility of a rookie pay scale. sunday, upshaw responded to goodell while addressing the newest class of rookies at the nfl's annual rookies symposium.

their stances may be predictable enough, but what's going on behind their words? fuhbaw takes a closer look.

goodell: There's something wrong about the system.

upshaw: We're not in the position to try to take money from anyone.

while goodell is talking about the rookie contracts in particular, he is in fact enforcing the owners' overall logic for opting out of the cba. rookie contracts are one of the factors driving up player's contracts, making it harder for team's to balance their contracts within the structure of the salary cap.

upshaw on the other hand is making it very clear that he's going to use the inertia of the status quo in upcoming negotiations. the union is not only set to dig their heels in the ground over their piece of the pie - 60% of overall football revenue under the current cba - but they are also not interested in placing any more restrictions on the open market of the nfl.

goodell: The money should go to people who perform... Now, with the economics where they are, the consequences if you don't evaluate that player, you can lose a significant amount of money... And that money is not going to players that are performing. It's going to a player that never makes it in the NFL.

upshaw: Our job is to make sure you get as much as you're entitled to and not be restricted by anything else. We have never agreed to such a system. I don't see us agreeing to such a system in the future.

here's where it gets interesting. goodell's appeal is aimed at veterans, the largest base of the player's union. the possibility in the coming cba negotiations exists for the owners to offer a slightly larger percentage of overall money to veterans by driving down rookie contracts among other costs. this in turn could rollback some of the overall percentage the players currently receive while at the same time providing more money for veterans.

by contrast, upshaw wants to keep that overall percentage of revenue the players receive intact. the lure of big paydays is the best way for upshaw to keep the players in ranks behind him. in effect, the union head is dividing the players' collective interests while teaming together their individual hope for a large cash in.

ballooning rookie contracts have driven up the value of much better and proven players over time. very good veterans land large contract extensions from their teams. decent to mediocre players hitting the free market pull down disproportionately fat contracts (bernard berrian, anyone?). part of that puzzle of more money, more money is the rookies driving perceived value up. revisit the words of tommie harris on his four year, $40 million contract signed a week and a half ago:

It was the principle of the whole deal. I wanted this deal done because the NFL gave me a price tag. I don’t believe any NFL player deserves the amount of money that we do get. But in the business that we’re in, they give us tags and say, ‘This guy’s worth this, this guy’s worth that.’ We play a game - a kids’ game - and get paid a king’s ransom.

harris in part can thank rookie tackles drafted early whose big bucks before playing a down helped raise his worth. consider the top free agent running back of this year, michael turner. turner signed with atlanta before the draft, a six year, $34.5 million contract with $15 million in guarantees. now consider the contract of the first running back selected in this year's draft, darren mcfadden. never having played a down, mcfadden signed a six year, $60 million contract with $26 million in guarantees.

there's obviously a gap in talent between turner and mcfadden, but there's also a gap in experience and nfl durability. mcfadden's contract can only help a veteran back deserving a large payday when he walks into the gm's office.

goodell: And I think that's ridiculous.

upshaw: I think it's ridiculous that he would make such a comment.

oh good, at least we can all agree on something, both sides consider each other ridiculous. be careful, roger and gene, you don't want to look too ridiculous in the eyes of the ticket buying public.