Considering The Undisclosed Size Of The Bag He Just Secured, Colin Kaepernick Should Have Asked For $100 Million To Play In The AAF
I'm not going to try to counter any argument made by those that maintain suspiciously selective hearing as it pertains to anything related to Colin Kaepernick. I'm sure they are using the lack of context attached to this piece of news to continue pushing the same false narrative they've been pushing in saying that his greediness is what's kept him off an NFL roster. This is low-hanging fruit for the Colin Kaepernick haters to chew on, and - boy, oh boy - do they need it having been left malnourished by the NFL paying out the ass to make him go away as opposed to offering an undoubtedly weak defense against collusion in court...
Those that won't just maintain the stubborn stance that a former quarterback with interests in equality isn't a loathsome asshole until their dying day, ask yourself the following question. Was what he stood to gain from playing in the AAF at even the most ridiculous of rate anywhere near what the AAF stood to make off his presence plus what he stood to cost himself in pricey negotiations with the NFL?
Polarizing figures always have and always will get people's attention, be it positive or negative, and no brand was more in need of any type of awareness than that of a secondary football league full of hopefuls and has-beens. Add to that the fact that the only way said polarizing figure could have done damage to the legally compelling case he was making for why he hadn't played competitive football in years was by stepping on a field and not looking like a superstar while throwing to hopefuls and has-beens.
After enduring years of rust, Colin Kaepernick would have had to have been the Patrick f'n Mahomes of the AAF from the first snap of the football for even 5x what the rest of his entire team would be making to cover what he would have been risking in the settlement he just received. For a guy that went on to win BIG against a multi-billion dollar business less than week later, potentially having his performance in playing up the prestige of second-rate football league used against him was ultimately a losing proposition.
Call him un-American if you somehow still willfully choose to be so ignorant, but his command of capitalism is as red, white, and blue as the flag he was principled enough to continue kneeling in front of.
Seems The Bengals Are Getting Dikembe Mutombo'd In Their Attempt To Interview Yet Another Saints' Assistant For Their Defensive Coordinator Position
Yikes. Sounds like somebody pissed off Sean Payton, and I'm placing my bets on the organization that apparently didn't take the hint when their interest in Dennis Allen immediately got one-upped by a contract extension. Truthfully, he should be flattered that he finally has a defensive staff worth flirting with for the first time in forever, but I wouldn't tell Picasso what brush to paint with so I'm damn sure not suggesting Sean Payton tone down his professional pettiness. Plus, you'd have to consider it great news that the Saints are doing everything in their power to keep their house in order, and that goes especially for a room of defensive backs that have become as cohesive off the field as they have on in posing under the watchful eye of Aaron Glenn.
The truth is that it's only a matter of time before AG is coordinating his own defense (or Dennis Allen is coaching his own team, for that matter). Until that time comes (and the Saints are no longer able to actively set the clocks back), however, he's a huge asset to a young, promising secondary has taken far more strides than the statistics would lead you to believe. There's a reason he was on the radar of a particularly successful curmudgeon of a head coach that knows a thing or two about maximizing defensive potential last offseason, and it's likely the same reason that Sean Payton shattered Cincinnati's radar as ruthlessly as he smashed their fire alarm.
I do wonder how Aaron Glenn feels about being denied an opportunity for a promotion, but - having gotten a first-hand look at the Bengals' defense when Drew Brees and Co. fed 'em a 50 burger - I think there is probably a mutual understanding that it would only be a step up an entirely unstable latter. In my extremely biased opinion, he's much better off - both short term and long term - continuing to reinforce a Super Bowl-worthy secondary that has no conceivable reason not to improve. So, hopefully an interception of his interview offer is seen as more of a compliment to his capabilities than any type of constraint on his career.
JoeBucsFan- One question posed to Jameis by Tampa’s own Leger Douzable, the former 10-year NFL defensive end, was an inquiry into how Jameis turned things around midseason, specifically how he got himself right mentally to return from an October benching.
Jameis said it was all about self-evaluation.
“I had to look at myself in the mirror and say, ‘Hey Jameis, what do you have to do?’ Jameis explained. “And that was simply, ‘Get back to playing Jameis Winston football. Be yourself. Have that swag. Don’t try to be something that a coach is trying to get you to be.’ You know, you gotta go and be you.”
Ah yes, because when has Jameis Winston listening solely to the voices in his own head and operating on instincts ever backfired? The question we've spent years asking, what could help move along the maturation process of someone who still has issues throwing inexplicable interceptions, apparently didn't learn from his first (alleged) sex crime, and can't put one foot in front of the other without it somehow ending up in his mouth? The answer was goofily smiling right in our stupid face this entire time...less mentorship, MO' JAMEIS!!!
I don't want to take away anything Dirk Koetter's complete failure of a tenure in Tampa Bay. That being said, regardless of how many questions arose because of it, Jameis Winston being himself neither was, is, or will be the answer to a single one of them. The mere suggestion that going off the books in carefully studying his own swag is what turned things around for him is so preposterous that it distracts from the fact that he went 2-6 down the stretch of a season highlighted by FitzMagic after his performance allegedly hooked a U-ey.
To be honest, I almost feel like I'm beating a dead horse here, as it's long been proven that anything that gratuitously leaks from the gums of someone who I'm certain has taken quite nicely to playing the role of Freddy Krueger in the nightmares of the Buccaneers' PR staff is bound to be problematic. Jameis Winston's mouth is getting pretty close to being considered a handicap, and I'm not down with picking on the disabled.
Still, the idea that he took a long, long look in the mirror following a well-deserved benching that came a mere month after a sexual assault suspension and went full-Stuart Smalley is not exactly a great sign of things to come either in the pocket or in the passenger seat. Though we'll see how long he survives solely on self-affirmation with Bruce Arians hogging all the real swag on the sideline.
NFL Owners Have Reportedly Approached NBA Commissioner Adam Silver About Replacing Roger Goodell, Which Is Almost Too On The (Clown) Nose
ESPN- While Silver did not explicitly confirm that he had been approached by NFL owners, sources close to the situation told ESPN that several NFL owners have tried to persuade Silver to run their league over the course of his five years as the NBA's commissioner. Silver has also been approached by a number of Fortune 500 companies, according to sources.
"I'll just say I have not given it any thought," Silver told ESPN about his reaction to those job opportunities. "I feel very fortunate to be in this position. As a longtime fan, as a longtime league employee, the opportunity to become the commissioner of this league was beyond anything I even ever dreamed of as a kid.
"I've loved every day I've been in this job, and I think there's nothing but enormous opportunity ahead for this league. And ultimately, I realize I'm just passing through like every player who's gone through this league and ultimately like every owner, and I feel an enormous obligation to the fans and to this greater NBA family to do my best and try my hardest every day. But that's where 100 percent of my focus is."
How? Just...how? How is entirely unsurprising? The NFL thinking they could just pry the nails out of the most crucified Commissioner in professional sports and replace him with the most beloved Commissioner in professional sports with a pitch that probably just equated to a swimming pool full of additional salary should be huge news. Instead, the fact that they tried to give a whole new meaning to the term "copycat league" by not only trying to emulate the NBA's success in being run forwards instead of ass-backwards, but by trying to buy it off them is about as shocking as the NFL botching another domestic abuse investigation.
To be fair, the NFL should be looking to add a tell-it-like-it-is type leader. It's partially by design, as being NFL Commissioner basically just means serving as "The Shield" in taking a bunch of bullets on behalf of greedy billionaires, but Adam Silver is all the things Roger Goodell is not. Prompt. Forthright. Likable. Rational. Chances are that list would be stunted in short order if he were the voice of a league that's only progressive in being counterproductive and literally only cares about its liquidity, but - from a personality standpoint - someone like (being the operative words) Adam Silver would be a massive upgrade.
That's not really the point though. The point is that the multibillion dollar behemoth of a business is essentially the equivalent of the spoiled grade schooler that thinks everything that strikes his fancy can be funded, regardless of whether or not it belongs to someone else. NFL owners are basically Willy Wonka's worst nightmare in being an entitlement army staffed entirely by Veruca Salt clones. They don't care how, they want it now...despite "it" being something almost as unattainable as a goose that shits out golden eggs. That, of course, being the good will and/or benefit of the doubt that comes as a result of leaving a (very particular, apparently) man with a moral compass to weigh management decisions free of outside influences that are too long in both tooth and pocket to be anything other than short in sight.
In Lateral Moves That Don't Matter, John Elway's Quarterback Purgatory Has Agreed In Principle To A Trade For Joe Flacco
It's not fair. It's just not fair. In the year 2019, there is absolutely no reason for football fans to still be going out of their way to dump all over the demise of a Super Bowl MVP who put together one of the most...ahem...elite postseason runs in relatively recent memory. We should have been moved on from giving redundant flack to Flacco, as there are only a select few idiots betting against the obvious downward trajectory of a long-time starting quarterback whose career median was mediocre.
Both unfortunately and amazingly, however, one of those select few idiots just so happens to also be in charge of making the foremost executive decision on who to entrust with the fate of his franchise. I know, what are the odds, right? At this point, we're basically screaming wildly underwhelming stats into an empty void while John Elway has his soundproof headphones plugged in to cancel out the noise while watching decade-old game tape. Doesn't matter how many times we yell at that same cloud, because John Elway's head is buried far too deep in it to make out anything that's gone on down on the football field the last few years. After pumping every last pass out of Peyton Manning's arm, the proof is in the pudding that Joe Flacco appears to be trudging through whenever he's asked to navigate the pocket...
The Broncos (and, ironically enough, the best quarterback they've ever called their own) have absolute no idea what a quality quarterback looks like, and it's resulted in decidedly bad quarterbacks getting absolutely brutalized in the process of every Tom, Dick, and Harry trying to hammer home the same damn point that every Brock, Trevor, and Paxton has already proven. I've grown as tired of mocking Joe Flacco as I have of watching him play football, because those frustrations have been taken out on the wrong target. He, himself, wouldn't care to come up with a feasible argument in favor of him still starting in the NFL, so it feels unnecessary to blow the dust off a long-crafted counterargument. John Elway has turned Denver's pocket into a quarterback purgatory, and I wish there was a way to rightfully kill him for incompetence without continuing to beat a bunch of dead arms.
Doesn't Seem Like The Oakland A's Are Interested In Taking A Hint, As They Reportedly Remain Intent On Swooning Kyler Murray
Oh no. I have seen this before. Especially in the case of rejection, denial is the most delirium-inducing of drug. I hate to kill the Oakland Athletics for remaining hopeful, but looking at a short romp in the sac that didn't work out in their favor as only a lost battle in a war to win the hand of Kyler Murray is basically the plot to Swimfan...
The vibe I get is that the A's aren't leaving the dugout any time soon, but the following announcement (and the returned millions that went along with it) made it undeniably clear that they struck out swinging with two outs in the bottom of the ninth in whatever game of 'hard to get' may have been taking place...
Of course, if Kyler Murray's questionable frame gets crunched enough times, shortstop will make for a hell of a backup plan. I'm just concerned that the Oakland A's see themselves as more of a scorned side-chick than a future option with which to settle.
All-too-predictably, a 21-year old kid who lapped up all the limelight during a Heisman-winning season chose to pursue playing the most prestigious and profitable position in a sport that immediately provides a payday and the adoration of peers, as opposed to traveling by bus to pay his dues in suburban "cities". I suppose his decision isn't set in stone as professional football could pretty easily prove unforgiving, but the professional baseball team that holds his rights sounds suspiciously hell-bent on changing his heart. So much so that I think Kyler Murray might be wise to invest that first NFL paycheck into personal security detail.
Saints' Fans Raised Over $57,000 For Charity While Boycotting The Super Bowl, Like A Bunch Of "Babies"
The Boycott Bowl? Ohhhh, you man that foolish display from infantile fans who had the gall to let their faith in the NFL be compromised by the most inexcusable and monumentally "missed" call in league history...
How dare the thousands upon thousands of unconditional members of the Who Dat Nation leave their homes to publicly bitch, moan, and stomp their feet - in a way that was oddly reminiscent of cheering, singing, and dancing - instead of devoting their Sunday afternoon to a (shitty) Super Bowl for which they clearly felt spite?! It's as if they thought it was okay to host a city-wide tantrum just because it was filled with the blasting of music during parades that flowed as smoothly as the drinks and made for an atmosphere in which people were more than happy to fund their own fun by donating money to a great cause...
Now that I think about it, I suppose one might be inclined to define such a large gathering of well-intentioned people as a "party". However, who told Saints' fans they were allowed to do anything other than wallow silently in their self-pity so that others could enjoy the big game free of a reminder of its undeserved participation? Are we all just supposed to be okay with a city rallying around the misfortunes of its beloved franchise and thus turning them into an opportunity to raise tens of thousands of dollars to be locally directed at creating a better today for the children of tomorrow?
Bullshit. Get over it New Orleans, but definitely don't do so by showing your spirit, selflessness, smile, or sense of community. Instead, grow up and go whine about the watchability of the Super Bowl on social media...ya babies.
Obviously, it's impossible not to hate what this says about the NFL's oft-balleyhoed line of bullshit regarding their zero tolerance approach to their players being violent towards women. You'd have to live amongst sugarplums and fairies to think that a 23 year old with a rushing title under his belt didn't have a future in football after being cut predominantly due to PR. However, for that future to come to fruition merely one week following a season in which his skill-set (as amazing as it may be) was proven replaceable, and for it be to offered by an organization who doesn't even necessarily have a need for said skill-set somehow makes this inevitable news even more inexcusable.
The Browns. The Cleveland Browns. The franchise and fanbase that, after decades of dysfunction and defeat, was finally heading into an offseason with a legitimate reason to be positive. The roster that, for the first time in forever, actually appeared built to either contend or come close to it. You want to know how little risk NFL teams associate with giving a second chance to those that place their hands on women? Consider that the reward for the one team who had every reason to avoid upsetting an apple cart that was finally not filled with rotten fruit is already incredibly limited by Nick Chubb (who is just as young and talented), Duke Johnson (who is just as good of a pass catcher), and a suspension that's yet to have started.
On the surface, this isn't as much of an indictment of the moral compass of the entire NFL as it is that of the Cleveland Browns. After all, thirty-one owners didn't jump at the opportunity to sign someone whose checkered past is caught on tape. That being said, regardless of Jim Dorsey's familiarity with a running back he drafted during his time in Kansas City, his urge to pull the trigger as soon as the sun set on the season tells you all you need to know about his expectations of his competition.
While it was both unforgivable and extremely hard to watch, the uncertain circumstances surrounding Kareem Hunt's assault of a young woman made me uneasy in calling for the end of his career, no questions asked. Therefore, I'm begrudgingly okay with him getting an opportunity to prove himself as a changed person. I'm just not nearly as okay with the idea of him being silently salivated over like the last slice of pizza and being shamelessly snagged by a team that's far from starving for talent at the position only two months after the video went public. Those aspects truly speak all-too-loudly to the lack of fucks given in NFL circles.
Contrary To Popular Facts, Noted NFL Scout Stephen A. Smith Stands By His Claim That Dwayne Haskins Is "More Of A Runner Than A Thrower"
I know everyone is going to pounce on this seemingly silly soundbite much like...well...the fine folks over at 'First Take' might if an athlete mere to mutter something similarly stupid, but let's hear the guy out. After all, who the hell are we, other than the fully-functional viewership of oft-televised college football, to say that the Ohio State product that hardly left the pocket doesn't fit the athletic profile of the dangerously stereotypical black quarterback that Stephen A. Smith apparently assumed had popped up on his screen?
It's as if we all became willfully ignorant to the idea that stats can be played with and that numbers can occasionally lie as soon as we saw any opportunity to mock a notable NFL Draft pundit for the results of a 20/200 eye test that run contrary to popular visual evidence. Admittedly, Dwayne Haskins' numbers would have to be telling the type of tall-tale fitting of a man who mysteriously came home to his wife with ruffled hair, make-up on his collar, and a condom still on his cock after "working late", but hey - crazier things have happened. For example, Stephen A. Smith being caught dead to rights in being the exact opposite of dead ass right...
If Bill Belichick Were Capable Of Blushing He Would Have Done Just That As Sean McVay Smooched His Ass Before The Super Bowl
Ugh, I'm disgusted. Not by the fact that the best young coach in the NFL has an unbelievable amount of respect for someone who is almost undeniably the best football mind of all-time. That much should have been pretty obvious before he even spoke a single word to him. Rather, I'm disgusted by how quick Sean McVay was to get up under that oversized windbreaker and massage the ego of a peer who thrives off intimidation and mental manipulation.
We've seen it countless times now. Staring across the field at Bill Belichick makes opposing coaches act completely out of character in big spots. Hell, if we sniffed their drawers in the postgame we might even detect a whiff of stale urine. Honestly, if you made a blooper reel of the ten most inexplicable and monumentally dumb plays of the last decade then the leading man would be the homeless-looking grumpy old man emotionlessly sneering in the background.
Now, Sean McVay didn't exactly leave Marshawn Lynch to helplessly hold his dick in the backfield when he only needed one more yard to clinch a Super Bowl victory. However, he did put a damn bow on the gift of the psychological edge by absolutely gushing in appreciation of Bill Belichick's ability to deploy and maximize talent. By my estimation, he was like two steps of starstruck short of screaming and fanning himself like a teenage girl when the Jonas' brothers walk on stage.
I suppose that self-assurance will come with experience, as he is only 33 years old. Still, Sean McVay was acting like he just reached the front of the line for a meet-and-greet instead of waiting for the Super Bowl to kickoff. No wonder Bill Belichick had the Rams' offense looking half-blind, their protege of a head coach was still trying to shake the damn hearts out of his eyes.
I Thought It Was 2019, But Saints' David Onyemata Received A Citation For Marijuana Possession After Tipped Off Police Raided His Apartment
TheAdvocate- New Orleans Saints defender David Onyemata was given a misdemeanor citation accusing him of illegally possessing marijuana in his Elmwood apartment late last month, according to the Jefferson Parish Sheriff’s Office.
Earlier in the year, a Sheriff’s Office narcotics investigator received tip “that a quantity of marijuana products” were going to be at an apartment in the 5300 block of Citrus Boulevard, agency Capt. Jason Rivarde said. The agent considered the tip reliable and secured a warrant to search the apartment, which turned out to be Onyemata’s and was raided Jan. 29.
The Sheriff’s Office found marijuana, cannabis oil, marijuana edibles and hemp powder the Tuesday of the search, Rivarde said. Onyemata, whose first name is Ebuka, “was cooperative” with investigators and received a summons to appear in court at a later date, according to Rivarde.
The Sheriff's Office believes the marijuana and other items were for Onyemata's personal use, Rivarde said. But in Louisiana, possessing marijuana is illegal except in rare circumstances that the Sheriff's Office said didn't apply in this case.
League discipline for marijuana possession varies, though a positive drug test typically results in a four-game suspension.
This story legitimately confounds me six ways to Sunday. So much so that I can't even direct my ire at David Onyemata for tempting the fate of a failed drug test from an idiotic league that derives far more joy from handing out suspensions for the use of medically beneficial drugs than the objective person derived from watching its sham of a Super Bowl. I don't know what the NFL's penalty is for possessing a reasonable amount of pot, instead of pissing the remnence of its internal presence into a cup, but I can't even begin to care with how confounding the other circumstances regarding this story seem.
I want to be mad, because the worst case scenario is that depth in the middle of the Saints' d-line could be incredibly depleted to start next season, seeing as Sheldon Rankins will still be on the shelf and Tyeler Davison is set to be a free agent. Unfortunately, I just keep circling back trying to answer the same damn question before I get to the anger stage. That question, of course, being...huh?
First and foremost, marijuana being illegal within sniffing distance of the city limits where you could be a plastic cup away from being able to walk the streets getting belligerently drunk enough to find yourself face-first in some horse dung is a huge conflict of attitude. Handing out citations for having a small quantity of weed stashed safely in your New Orleans' apartment would be like Amsterdam prohibiting pornography while profiting off prostitution. It's a juxtaposition that's nearly as stupid as the NFL preferring it's most battered and beaten athletes pop pills as opposed to puff trees.
Second of all, a raid? Whatever David Onyemata did to piss off the person who ratted him out over what sounds like a couple grams, a weed pen, and a space brownie or two must have been 10x more illegal than presumably getting a little high on his own personal supply. The officer on scene should have went back, traced the tip, and arrested the snitch for making him waste his damn time getting a search warrant for nothing more than some ganja, as NOLA's crime rate suggests it has far bigger problems than people coughing up the occasional lung on their couch.
At the end of the day, no matter how he got caught, David Onyemata has to know better than to test the repressed Resident Assistant of professional sports league. When you're in the NFL, you simply gots to stay off the wee-duh, no matter how much it may help you deal with the pain you're inflicted from bashing skulls with absolute monsters of men. He'll have to take whatever suspension will likely come his way on the chin and hope it doesn't send the Saints off to another slow start, because he knew he was breaking the rules...even if the rules are about a decade too dumb.
Rest In Peace To This Saints' Fan That Passed Away In Protest Prior To A Super Bowl That Would Have Killed Him
Henry A. Jaume, Sr. Not just a charismatic hero whose life and livelihood was dedicated to fighting for his country and protecting its citizens, but also a man of principle. We will have to wait on the autopsy before definitively saying that same principle is responsible for him passing away peacefully just prior to the playing of a sad, Saints-less excuse of a Super Bowl. However, I speak on behalf of the whole Who Dat Nation in saying that a small part of him died the day Bill Vinovich and crew closed their eyes, tucked their tails, and spit in the proverbial face of every principled professional that either came before them or will come after them.
Now, I wouldn't go as far as charging them with murder, but would it be a stretch to say that the NFL, by way of a complete lack of integrity, prematurely pulled the plug on a proud patriot and a former police officer? Even having to ask the question tells you all you need to know about the level of injustice levied against a franchise and a fanbase that I only somewhat satirically suspect lost a funny family man hours before they would have had the rightful NFC Champion been crowned.
If the citywide block party that was 'Boycott Bowl' had an MVP award then Henry A. Jaume, Sr. would be the consensus choice after taking his protest to the grave, but I'm certain he'd trade in that honor for the chance to be sent upstairs eternally while watching the black & gold in the Super Bowl. And to think, here we were assuming that all the NFL stole was a conference championship.
Todd Gurley Declined An Exit Interview With The Media, Which Seems Like A Short-Term Fix For A Long-Term Headache
There was exactly one way to add even more attention and intrigue to the Todd Gurley situation. Even that seems crazy to say, as an MVP candidate who - due to no public acknowledge of the contrary - was presumed to be healthy, touched the ball all of eleven times in a low-scoring Super Bowl whose outcome could have been flipped by so much as one game-breaking catch or carry. The Rams scored three points. THREE. Exactly thirty less than their season average. THIRTY. Regardless of Bill Belichick's genius, it really shouldn't be possible to make the underwhelming usage of a physically dominant freak who was said offense's lynchpin all season a bigger storyline with how inept it was during the biggest game of it. Yet, the player that apparently didn't want to talk about it managed to do just that.
Again, considering the suspiciousness of a situation in which mum has remained the word from all involved parties, the light interrogation he avoided facing wasn't about to be easy. That said, the longer his silence continues, the harder it's going to be to explain it. The less questions answered about his diminished role throughout the playoffs, the more that arise. His refusal to scratch the media's initial itch is only going to lead to them coming after him fiending for a fix like crackheads going through withdrawals.
Personally, no matter what speed he might have been clocked at, I can't see anyway in which his health wasn't a huge factor in being given a half-ass workload from a coach that's been lauded as an offensive mastermind. I don't know that to be the case, but - as happened with Malcolm Butler's SB benching - postponing the truth is only creating more false narratives that need to be debunked by the person who has dodged more disclosure than he did tackles in the biggest game of his otherwise illustrious career.
The Rams Completely Embarrassed Themselves, But At Least They Can Now Look Forward To The Sweet Release Of Death (Their Words, Not Mine)
In speaking as someone whose soul descended to the deepest and darkest of places when the Saints had a sure-shot Super Bowl appearance pried from their grasp by officiating incompetence, I must say that even I'm unfamiliar with being that amount of morbid in defeat.
That being said, I'm not so sure that Andrew Whitworth and the rest of a Rams' team that took the unprecedentedly precious gift of an undeserved shot at a title and somehow hogtied themselves while trying to unwrap it shouldn't feel apocalyptically pessimistic about their performance. Honestly, I was already thinking that the apology Sean McVay should currently be penning to Sean Payton and Drew Brees might come across more genuine if it were written in blood, so maybe their left tackle wasn't too far off with his fatalistic approach to their massive failure. After all, Jared Goff might still be too young a quarterback to be looking forward to his funeral, but his mortality sure was on full-display with how often he was completely blind to entirely wide-open receivers last night.
On one hand, it's technically just a game so there realistically isn't a reason to go knocking on death's door. On the other hand, taking advantage of a Patriots' team putting up a point per quarter through three quarters of the Super Bowl is pretty much a once in a lifetime opportunity, so who am I to tell the Rams not to turn their attention to their eventual demise? Maybe a reminder of the fragility of life and the pointlessness of football is just what they need to get over it.
Guess it's not as easy as they originally thought, huh?
The Saints Weren't In The Super Bowl, But New Orleans Still Won What Was An Otherwise Uneventful Sunday
First of all, an apology to the haters, of which even one is too many. I'm sorry you were about as fun at high school house parties as the hosting parents that came home from vacation early...
Petitions? Personal "injury" lawsuits? Requests to replay? All admittedly their own ridiculous brand of petty and childish, but if partying through the pain makes Saints' fans "babies" then pass me a pacifier and an adult diaper so I don't have to worry about breaking the seal anywhere near Bourbon Street.
A loud, proud, and apparently misunderstood legion of loyalists that shockingly weren't feeling any less scorned ahead of a championship game their team (now unquestionably) should have been a part of took an otherwise depressing day and turned it into a city-wide celebration. They collectively flipped their middle finger at a game that proved to be even more of an uninteresting sham than they assumed it to be, and - through better and absolute worst - made Super Bowl Sunday all about their Saints. Predictably, Boycott Bowl was really just a black & gold block party with a "fuck the officials" theme, so I fail to see how anyone who wasn't just having traumatizing flashbacks to teenage years that were mostly spent missing out could consider it anything other than a quintessential display of the fickle beast that is fandom.
The Who Dat Nation is probably never going to truly "get over" one of the most grave injustices in NFL history. However, those that kept clamoring for them to do so probably should have taken the cue to shut the fuck up when the visual of thousands of people drinking and dancing away their despair came across their screen. Especially since those same ignoramuses would have taken a great deal of pleasure in mocking the best fanbase in sports had only a mere spattering of supporters taken to the streets with an entirely understandable shared spite for the NFL. That group therapy session was classic NOLA and anyone who thinks the mood during it was anything but jovial could never possibly relate to the uplifting experience of rooting for the Saints. The most pissed off fans on the planet refused to sit on their ass and self loathe, instead decided to resiliently take unconditional pride in being a part of something special, and there are actually people out there that somehow came to the conclusion that that's a bad thing?
In scoring approximately one single point for each of their fans in attendance, the Rams proved the entire point of what was more of an undeniably impressive parade than a protest, which is that they never even deserved to be on that field or represented in those stands. New Orleans Saints' fans actually enjoyed a Sunday they spent in full appreciation of their team. Prior to the Patriots winning, that's more than can be said for literally anyone else during what I've been led to believe was a lame excuse for a professional football game, never mind one that ultimately crowned World Champions*.
If You Believe That The Patriots Are Under-Dogs Then You'll Probably Also Believe That Their Coaches Sleep 4-5 Hours In 40 Minutes
You might think we've reached maximum capacity in being complimentary of the admittedly brilliant Head Coach who is in the midst of something between his 9th and 90th Super Bowl week. You might even think Patriots' fatigue would make for a lack of new narratives surrounding the perennial powerhouse of a team that was "doubted" by "everyone", and therefore any way in which you could speak of Bill Belichick's ingenuity would be unoriginal.
Fortunately, you'd think wrong, because apparently the most incredibly consistent curmudgeon in sports has convinced his staff of future head coaching failures that they are getting a full night's rest in the time it takes to catch up on your favorite TV show. Never mind what he's managed to do with an inherently flawed team, because what he's done in getting a bunch of grown ass men to believe they've actually added hours to their day by submerging themselves for a little solitary shut-eye is even more impressive.
You thought Tom Brady's unorthodox diet was the one that was the most key to New England's success, but Josh McDaniels is giving it a run for its money while working his eyeballs bloody after slurping up the stupidity that his organization has "solved" sleep straight from the spoon of his moody mentor. I bet Robert Kraft could have been saved a lot of money if Bill Belichick could have just used a little elbow grease, twisted a few arms, and convinced his assistant coaches that holding their breath under water until they passed out is basically tomato/tomahto to a solid 8 hours. However, credit to the brains behind the most productive of operations for not being stiff in bullshitting his staff, for the only thing that truly comes close to simulating 4-5 hours of sleep is called rigamortis, and - needless to say - it falls a little short in the rejuvenation department.
The Saints Fired Their Special Teams' Staff, Which - For The First Time In Forever - Might Actually Be Bad News
If only because I would imagine it's easier to find a quality return man than it is to find a quality group of especially specialized coaches, I find this news to be disproportionally disconcerting. Unless I'm missing something, as I very well may be having shockingly not dissected the game tape from every change of possession throughout the season, Tommy Lee Lewis tightening the collective sphincter of the Who Dat Nation in catching punts that he rarely ever advanced was the only underperforming aspect of an inherently under-appreciated part of the game.
Of course, all I really have to go off in judging the supply and demand of high-end Special Teams' coaches is the traumatizing memories of Saints' teams of yesteryear finding foolish ways to fail their quarterback in seeming destined to end up 7-9, but - in my personal opinion - that feels like more than enough. Much like a guy dating a girl that's entirely out of his league, it seems as though Sean Payton should have clung desperately to a crew whose results make it look as though he was basically kissing frogs with his previous coordinators at the position.
From Thomas Morstead-to-Wil Lutz-to-Taysom Hill-to-Justin Hardee-to-Craig Robertson-to-Chris Banjo, the Saints finally have players that are known for actually being reliable in relatively anonymous roles. Presumably, the highly-heralded Mike Westhoff (and Co.) was responsible for putting them in those roles, so this re-staffing seems like a senseless overreaction to falling victim to one predictable, momentum-swinging fake punt from the best armed leg in the NFL. I have more respect for Sean Payton (and his extremely detailed rebuilding of this team) to think that's all it is, but finding ways to not only not lose in hilariously hopeless fashion, but also finding ways to win without the offense or defense on the field has been too welcomed a change for me to welcome any change. I thought I'd sooner see another River City Relay gone to waste than a kicking game that was more special than "special", so I hope Darren Rizzi is comfortable is prepared silence some skepticism.
You Can Add This Interview With Dan Patrick To The Cons Section Of Kyler Murray's NFL Scouting Report
You know, as stupid and satirical as the headline reads, I'm not so sure that it's not at least somewhat serious. I've been a staunch supporter of Kyler Murray and his well-earned autonomy in looking at more than just dollar signs in deciding which sport he wants to devote his blood, sweat, and tears to for the foreseeable future. However, I can't help but think that he may have cost himself a little bit something-something by, metaphorically speaking, fouling softballs off his own face in making Dan Patrick's fluffy, Super Bowl-week filler seem like it was conducted across an interrogation table. With how asininely over-reactionary NFL scouts are in picking apart prospects down to their pajama patterns, I can certainly think of more minute critiques than the inability of first-round arm talent to endorse electrolytes without seeming as though he just walked into his own surprise party stoned through next Sunday.
Granted, it's got to be weird that every person that passes the Heisman winner by is at least silently asking themselves the same thing, but - as a kid who spoke to the entirely implausible possibility of being a two-sport athlete in 2018 - Kyler Murray is going to approach higher hurdles than having to artfully dodge his indecisiveness. His height, or lack thereof, might be the main knock on him as the future face of a franchise, but the shortstop's confidence throughout that short stop on set would have to stand on its tippy toes if it even wanted to tell a white lie about being taller than 5'9.
Again, I absolutely loathe those that turn the draft process into a presumptuous personality dissection, but I'd have a reservation or two about asking a kid who had to have his Dad interject in an easy interview to lead an NFL huddle. Of course, he's got a lot more on his plate than the average aspiring quarterback, being that he apparently doesn't want divulge his plan going forward. Still, just silently staring at that proverbial plate as if it were going to clean itself like a self-conscious date who regrets not ordering a salad was made even more awkward by the fact that quality communication, or even something remotely like it, is kind of key to succeeding at the quarterback position.
Roger Goodell Finally Spoke About The Pass Interference That Wasn't, If You'd Like To Waste A Few Minutes Listening To Him Talk Out Of His Ass
As a bigger man than the one paid 40 million dollars a year to oversee a league that is completely confounding in how profitable it is despite its best efforts to self-sabotage, it's time for me to come clean. While I was ranting and raving about Roger Goodell hiding under a rock like the robotic rodent that he is, I was fully aware that whatever empty ass answer he eventually offered was going to be unsatisfactory at best and absolutely infuriating at worst. Due entirely to low expectations, I'd say he managed to land somewhere in the middle, but the point is that - unlike the idiotic analysts that chastised Sean Payton's late-game play-calling - I'm able to admit that my criticism was convenient. Be it silence or stupidity, I was going to crucify the Commissioner for being either too intellectually incompetent or too professionally castrated to adequately respond to the NFL's integrity being completely compromised. I know, I know. How dare I?
On to the idiocy, which started with a compelling proclamation that the players had, indeed, spoken with Roger Goodell. The Saints' most angsty and boisterous bullshit detector determined...
...that was...::act surprised now::...a lie!
I'd say that it could be a simple miscommunication, but that would be a very weird way to refer to an amount of communication that would make a full-on ghosting seem graceful by comparison. I was going to suggest that Michael Thomas' memory might be off, but then I remembered that he actually wasn't the defenseless receiver who had his brain rattled by an attempted beheading while the ball had yet to cross county lines. Oh well, on to the other highlights!
Those include the type of laugh that lingers with its unfortunate audience well into a sleepless night. A reminder that bad officiating is, in fact, bad. A heads-up that being human actually absolves you of being some combination of an idiot and a coward. An admittance that the NFL has the technology, but they won't use it for "judgement calls", regardless of whether or not said "judgement calls" only require the level judgement used in determining whether or not you should put on pants before going out in public. I suppose there were a bunch of other hollow words and half-assed deflections that indirectly implied nothing is going to change, but - as a whole - it was about as forward-facing as Ace Ventura talking out of his ass-crack.
In retrospect, you might say that makes his prolonged silence prior seem golden, but was retrospect really required in concluding that Roger Goodell wasn't going to make things any better by opening his mouth?
There's Only One Problem With The Browns Calling To Notify Cameron Jordan They Had Selected Him In The 4th Round Of The 2011 NFL Draft
Man, if only the Cleveland Browns knew how the career of the do-it-All-Pro defensive end was going to turn out then there's no way they would have let Cameron Jordan (in that order) slip through their fingers.........while he was in New Orleans getting ready to introduce himself to the Saints' staff?
In all seriousness, I regret to inform you that this mistake isn't nearly as stupid as we'd all like to believe. It's certainly not below the Browns' organization, especially circa 2011 (or 4 months ago, for that matter), to not update their draft board and jump at the chance to select a player who was already well en route to the facilities of the franchise that had him called up to the stage in front of literally everyone as their first round pick a day earlier. In fact, it speaks volumes that most immediately assumed that to have been the case upon reading the caption above. Unfortunately, that's not what happened. I hate to ruin what would be an all-time "oh Cleveland..." moment, but far smarter men have had their minds melted by the Cameron, Jordan/Jordan, Cameron mix-up...
Now, those smarter men definitely didn't have the responsibility to double or triple-check the number before placing a life-changing call to a young, increasingly anxious athlete, but we're talking about the Cleveland Browns here. You know, an organization that recently tried to trade a 2nd and 3rd round pick for a 2nd or 3rd string quarterback, and were only saved from their own stupidity by their inability to file the paperwork on time. If only because the bar is almost as low as Hue Jackson's winning percentage, I think it's fair to offer them praise for actually picking the player they meant to pick, regardless of their dyslexia in trying to share their excitement with him after the fact.