At the risk of being ignorant to the undertones of what was obviously more of a battle of egos than a inter-organizational race war, I am going to go ahead and say that there are a lot of people going to absurd lengths to pick sides in a Steelers' saga that's become so much of a soap opera that it might as well be entitled 'General Hostile'. I get that society as a whole has become extremely polarized, but neither Ben Roethisberger or Antonio Brown are anywhere near likable enough for me to cast a vote of confidence in either of their innocence. To be honest, I can't really wrap my head anyone concluding that one has to represent right and other has to represent wrong, when it's pretty obvious - to me, anyway - that they are about as alike as their skin tones are different. By that, I mean they are both nauseatingly egotistical assholes who are quick to point fingers elsewhere, and is there really any protagonist in a dickhead-on-dickhead duel? Maybe that was Rashard Mendenhall's entire point. If it was then it was made preposterously poorly with an accusation of something as serious as racism that can confusingly be read as either sincere or sarcastic. Regardless, it's pretty clear he's #TeamAB when everyone should really be siding with those that had to work alongside their enigmatic asses the last few years. Fact is, the Pittsburgh Steelers bowed down to Ben Roethlisberger because he plays the one position with which the entire fate of a football team lies. They decided to stop putting up with Antonio Brown's bullshit, that stunk only as much as his former quarterback's bullshit, because he forced their hand and plays a position which which excellence hasn't equated to championships. Maybe I'm wrong and Big Ben was dropping n-bombs in between audibles while playing for a team coached by an African American, but I'd assume it's much more likely that both him and his main target were just immature, self-involved jackasses whose biggest problem with each other was that they had too many character flaws in common. If that's the case then it's really only their co-workers that deserve our support, how's that for fair?
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Drew Brees Took a Perfectly Subtle Jab at the Infamous Non-Call in the Latest UNTUCKit Commercial4/10/2019 As someone who, unless otherwise instigated, plans to treat the rule change that Sean Payton coerced out of the NFL as an opportunity to start moving on from the most obvious and impactful of officiating gaffs, I'd really like to start the process of forgetting what was readily seen by everyone with better than 20/100 vision as an abortion of integrity. That being said, seeing as that process will literally never completely end, just as the NFL will never be fully forgiven, I'm all for the occasional call back to the league's buffoonery. It's probably best for the future of the Saints' franchise if the parading around in pettiness portion of New Orleans' party-centric mourning period has reached its sobering conclusion. Subtle reminders that revenge is still very much due, however, will be eternally appreciated. Whether or not that spite be cleverly scripted into an attempt to sell more properly fitting button-downs is inconsequential. The longevity of the grudge burning in the collective heart of the Who Dat Nation, on the hand hand, is not.
SI- Quarterback Aaron Rodgers spoke out against a recent article from Bleacher Report, calling it a "smear attack" and said there were a number of "highly questionable" things included in the story that delved into the relationship between Rodgers and former head coach Mike McCarthy.
In a new interview with Jason Wilde and Mark Tauscher ESPN Milwaukee, Rodgers said he's heard from over 100 current and former players and coaches since the story was published last week. "I want to say two things: One, if they knew that, why would they offer me a contract last year?" Rodgers said in the interview. "And two, which goes into my second central thesis point that I'm going to take down, is if I really disliked Mike so much, why would I re-sign knowing that if I play well and we do what we do around here — we made the playoffs eight straight years and then I got hurt and we missed the playoffs — it's going to be me and Mike my entire career? So if I really disliked him that much, do you think I'd re-sign? Is the money that important to me? I'll tell you it's not. Quality of life is important." Rodgers acknowledged the he and McCarthy might have issues but the two always dealt with it face to face and it didn't get in the way. Rodgers said: "I love Mike McCarthy. He's a great man. He's got a huge heart. He really cares about his players, and he showed that to us. ... As far as a player to a coach, it's just two Alpha males who are hyper-competitive and love winning and are both a little stubborn. But, again, we talked through so many different issues over the years and that made us a lot stronger." The story cites Greg Jennings and Jermichael Finley heavily, with the two sharing stories, including one from Jennings where he discussed knowing it was his last year in Green Bay after Rodgers joked about the wide receiver joining the 49ers. After Wilde brought up the two, Rodgers said: "If it’s not an article about me, do you ever hear their names anywhere else? … You talk about me being sensitive and petty, at what point do you move on or stop telling the same stories?" -------- I say the following as someone who doesn't find Aaron Rodgers to be a particularly likable or forthright person, regardless of how great he is as a player. I think it's totally to refer to Bleacher Report's offseason piece that went out of its way to do research and report on the enigmatic reputation of one of the NFL's most transcendent talents as a "smear attack". While reading up on the inner non-workings of the Green Bay Packers' organization was incredibly interesting, enlightening, and explanatory, the extensive article did come off as a pretty complete takedown of Aaron Rodgers personally and Mike McCarthy professionally. Therefore, I can totally understand them both feeling attacked by the criticisms of former peers who may have exaggerated their truths in picking sides in what sounds like an extremely polarizing organizational feud. That being said, I am left asking myself one question that Aaron Rodgers only lightly touched in a suspiciously dismissive way. That question, of course, is why? I know why people would take aim at Mike McCarthy, as having your resume as an offensive head coach reduced to used toilet paper almost always comes as a result of being fired for repetitively underperforming with an All-World talent under center. But why would multiple players that used to benefit from catching deadly accurate passes from said All-World talent attempt to sully his name unless his name deserved a sullying? Simply put, Aaron Rodgers is going to have do a bit better then claiming it's all made up for publicity, since you don't find too many players whose careers were elevated by playing with high-quality quarterbacks who are quick to sell them down the river for a headline. Leaders the likes of Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, and Drew Brees have made not a single eternal enemy in their rotating arsenals of weapons despite being just as demanding of them, so - historically speaking - I have no choice but to believe there is something to Aaron Rodgers being a bit of a passive aggressive prick. Now, there are worse things to be in this world than a self-indulgent dickhead, especially when you possess an unprecedented amount of arm talent. However, for him to disingenuously plead innocence on all counts is him asking for the suspension of a laughable amount of disbelief. Seeing as his career has been largely wasted while working alongside an uncreative head coach, I don't particularly blame him for being an asshole. I do, however, blame him for not being self-aware enough to at least own it.
Ok, this is it. Last chance to hop off the "Antonio Brown is an evil genius" train before you arrive at the final destination that is right down the street from his unofficial asylum in Crazy Town. I don't know why anyone felt confident getting on board in the first place, as we are talking about the type of egotistical idiot that thought nothing of launching furniture over his balcony and into an inhabited common area 14 floors below, but everyone makes mistakes. It's committing to those mistakes, when it is clear that's all they are, that is truly inexcusable. I would say with complete confidence that we've reached a point where everyone who thought AB was putting Heath Ledger's performance as the Joker to shame in merely acting like an absolute lunatic of a loose cannon should know they done messed up. He may have profitably whined and wackjob'd his way out of Pittsburgh, but he certainly didn't do so by outsmarting an entire NFL organization with a meticulously pre-planned misrepresentation of his mental health, or lack thereof. I mean, we are talking about a jealous jackass who somehow, in the span of three social media posts, self-inflicted a Wile E. Coyote-esque amount of damage to his own damn arguments. Antonio Brown proved JuJu Smith-Schuster's entire point for him, and likely basked in the artificial love of every single heart as his utter senselessness went more and more viral. Mr. Big Chest is a lot of things, but an expert thespian with complete control of his emotions is not one of them. Dude is absolutely kookoo, with or without Cocoa Puffs, so it's time to slam the casket on this narrative that he maniacally manipulated the Pittsburgh Steelers with anything other than an entirely insufferable personality that is wildly disconnected from any sort of reality.
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It would be pretty easy to dismiss these accusations as entirely illegitimate. After all, they are coming from someone who is either rightfully or wrongfully perceived by many as a guy who traded in his athletic career for the ability to properly celebrate 4/20 without fear of the NFL's fun police interrupting the party with a pee cup...
On top of that, it seems beyond even the loosest constraints of reality that a head coach of a professional football team could operate for nearly a decade before a single player spoke publicly to his inability to hold a quality conversation with a black player. That being said, if you keep in mind that the source staunchly removed prejudice from the equation and focus on the phrase "socially awkward" as opposed to "uncomfortable", I could see how one might find Jason Garrett's personality to be off-putting. It definitely feels like this is a thought that David Irving took some liberties with after smoking himself retired, but we are talking about a guy who is constantly caught unconditionally clapping on the sidelines as if he were trying to applaud away his anxiety. I hardly think it's crazy to consider that his communication skills might be slightly lost in translation when crossing cultural boundaries. The racial undertones of this allegation make it a much more problematic proclamation, but every head coach has his pros and cons and it's not like Jason Garrett was ever anywhere to be seen on any non-family member's list of five people they'd love to have dinner with. Therefore, judging strictly off his sideline mannerisms, I could imagine there being a small hint of truth to him suffering through more uncommonly prolonged silences amongst those with which he lacks a common ground - be they black, white, or creative in game-planning. Of course, as evidenced by the claim of jealousy at the end of that video, I could also see David Irving being full of something that has a more distinct smell than smoke, so I'm just going to assume it's some relatively harmless combination of the two.
Well, for what it's worth, this is going to make for a hell of a Netflix documentary that should prove rewatchable whenever you need to feel better about your own egregious missteps in organization. Granted, what it's worth to the players that made it all possible is whatever it costs to get them back home healthy, so this dumpster Fyre of an inevitable drownfall is far less comical now than it was when players' lives/livelihoods were only being put at risk on the field...
Still, as a preposterously bad planner, I am personally appreciative of a "business model" that gives me a lifetime supply of comparative peace of mind. After all, the lack of foresight and funding that went into a league that apparently assumed the NFL - yes, that NFL - was going to be economically accommodating in bailing their ass out makes Ja Rule look like a capable financial adviser, so what do I have to worry about? The truth is, while the victims in this case are exponentially less enjoyable to mock, the AAF is somehow trying to divert and dodge more liability than Fyre Fest and managed to put themselves on a grander stage from which to do so. Don't let the idea that a bunch of mediocre football games did actually go off without a hitch distract you from that fact. 'The Alliance' has done the near impossible in making 'The Shield' look remotely good at insuring the best interesting of the athletes employed under it. That should be a felony of a crime in and of itself. That's why I can't wait until the lawsuits really start flying and someone much more coordinated than myself can get to filming on the story of a colossal fuck-up of a football league that both physically and fiscally did far more harm than good. Sucking everyone damn near dry, and didn't even have the courtesy to employ a blowjob guy to do the dirty work. For shame... Someone Please Take Away PJ Williams' Car Keys, Because He's Not Leaving New Orleans Just Yet4/3/2019
If you had told me after the Vikings had taken a 14-7 lead primarily by incessantly picking on PJ Williams like a grade school crush that I'd consider it very good news that he signed back with the Saints during the upcoming offseason, I'd have assumed that the rest of the defensive backfield had contracted polio. Of course, it was no more than a quarter later that he flipped the script on what was, to that point, a substandard season with a game-altering pick six off Kirk Cousins, and it honestly felt like he rarely had to look back - either figuratively or literally - thereafter. Judging strictly off of quantity, PJ Williams was probably the most active playmaker in the Saints' secondary the latter half of the season. That's due in large part to the success teams had targeting him during the former half of the season, but it's a credit to him that he was able to shed the label of liability in the only locker room that matters. In manning a slot that was quickly left vacant by the unfortunate, season-ending injury to one of New Orleans' biggest free agency acquisitions, PJ Williams really came into his own as nickel corner when the Saints added Eli Apple on the outside. The hope is that his job goes back to a healthy Patrick Robinson for more than a week and a half, but you could certainly find less reliable one-year insurance policies than the player who was the most trusted tackler they had in coverage last season. There's no way to really know, I suppose, but if I had to guess then I'd say PJ Williams' dumbass decision to drive after drinking away his NFC Championship sorrows probably cost him more lucrative and long-term opportunities elsewhere. Selfishly, I'm glad that's a lesson he'll have to humbly learn in the black & gold, as he gives depth, versatility, and some pop to a defense that's but a few seasons removed from being all too familiar with scouring the streets for injury replacements to the most exposable position on the roster.
I don't want to make more of this than what it is, which is just a friend playing his upper hand in getting one over on a much more gullible friend. However, I can't help but feel like it reeks of one NFL head coach playing chess while another NFL head coach, who happens to have taken the reigns of a division rival, is playing checkers. Not for nothing, but that's very fitting of what many feel will come to fruition on the field. I understand why Kliff Kingsbury would be sensitive to the potential loss of any asset (especially the most highly coveted one) considering the state of the Cardinals' roster, and I credit Sean McVay for putting in the leg work of an altered contact to allow for the execution of the prank. Still, you can't convince me that the latter would have been liable to fall for the old "commissioner is texting out tampering charges during drink orders" gag had it been attempted on him two years ago. Again, that's not to say that truly believing the first overall pick had been stolen from him in insanely unprecedented fashion signals his inevitable demise as a head coach, but it's definitely not a good look for someone whose high-profile job requires him to call much, much more inconspicuous bluffs on a regular basis. I suppose you can't put anything past Roger Goodell and his outlandish executive order, but to assume a shared dinner had been both harshly and historically disciplined before it had even been digested? For someone whose credentials are already in question, I sure hope Kliff Kingsbury was inebriated or he's a bit too wide-eyed of a complete sucker for me not to consider it a con of a character trait that could affect him professionally. Especially since the friend who successfully yanked his chain has him on the schedule twice a year and has a playbook that's a hell of a lot trickier than that stunt.
I'm not ready to say I'd put as much trust in Keenan Allen's ears as I'd put in his hands, but the guy has got a pretty solid point. I'm all for athletes exploring other avenues of entertainment, but if that's the lane in which Le'Veon Bell's album is staying then it'll inevitably be quick to come upon a dead end. That snippet was only 38 seconds long and it had me feeling as though I had fallen victim to a Cardi B speciality cocktail thrice by the merciful end of it. Objectively speaking, that was simply not enjoyable music. Therefore, with "heat" being the only other available option, Keenan Allen almost had no choice but to call it "trash". Not sure why Le'Veon Bell took so much offense, as if a personal text disparaging his work would have been less insulting than public text disparaging his work, but the fact of the matter is that the work was in need of disparagement after being left with a caption that committed the mortal sin of asking for both the the internet's attention and opinion. Regardless of being a member of an NFL team, Keenan Allen is also a member of Twitter, and thus it is his duty to call a spade a spade when called upon, even when an actual spade should have been used to dig a deep, deep hole for the final resting place of the spade in question. If you ask me, that was as constructive as criticism gets on social media or in the rap game. Therefore, I can't help but think it's a good thing that the Jets finally gave Le'Veon Bell that guarantee money. Clearly he's not cut out for the music business, since all it took for him to get sensitive was one of his peers doing exactly what was asked of him, which was to let the artist know that far more than most would rather just go 5-wide than risk their eardrums by running back that record. Whatever the case may be, Keenan Allen clearly isn't one to...ahem...hold out and/or be a 'yes man', so at the very least he's not quite fit for Le'Veon Bell's following.
So, what you're saying is that Sean Payton doesn't believe that coaches who can lead, motivate, and call plays in serving as an extra set of all-knowing eyes for their quarterback at the highest level of football can be plucked ripe from the Sean McVay coaching tree in just two years time? Weird. Why would he find the notion that young and innovative offensive minds that are instinctually well-versed in the managerial aspects of coaching while being ahead of their time systematically are a dime-a-dozen during any given offseason to be patently ridiculous? Can't quite put my finger on it.... In all seriousness, there is just a hint of bias showing in that answer, as Sean Payton would have been football's flavor of the year long before Sean McVay had he teamed up with Drew Brees and quickly turned around the Saints' fortunes while rocking a handsomely kempt beard during the social media boom. While (attempted) imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, no one wants to believe that what they do best can be even remotely replicated by a bunch of guys whose resumes might as well read "right place, right time, right theory", much less someone who is second to only the most accomplished coach in NFL history in length of tenure. Therefore, Sean Payton should be flashing that infamously spiteful smirk in talking down in the direction of a bunch of stereotype hires. Not only because he's earned the right, but also because he did what some of them objectively did not in earning the hell out of the high-profile, pressure-packed job he's managed to hold onto for the last 12 years. The truth of the matter is that he's exactly right. Much like Sean McVay, Sean Payton is of a rare breed that doesn't simply repopulate through interactional and intellectual osmosis. I get that the NFL is a copycat league, but how many of those copycats end up being passable clones as opposed to the type of unsightly genetic mutations that serve as short-lived proof that cloning is actually really fucking hard? There are so few quality head coaches with staying power that stick in the NFL, so thinking that they can all be found in the same list of contacts requires a semester-long nap through Statistics 101. Now granted, if I were looking to fill a sideline vacancy, I too might find myself swoon by a young, handsome fella who has a play sheet that looks like a diner menu and has the uncanny ability to flirtatiously drop an 'RPO' reference, but that's because I'm a simple-minded moron that can't look past points. Presumably, the people in charge of employing the highest levels of multi-billion dollar organizations are not, so - when they are inevitably replacing a bunch of flameouts in the near future - they'd probably be wise to keep in mind that off-the-field lesson from Sean Payton before he teaches them another one on-the-field.
Suits, you just can't trust them. That's what I have come to take away from the split between the Saints and one of their most beloved and consummate leaders, as everything that's been made public regarding Mark Ingram's free agency leads me to believe it was botched by a third party not named the Baltimore Ravens. Considering the amount of up-to-the-minute communication that he, himself said he had with his now former teammates throughout the process, it makes little to no sense for #22 to have, more or less, ghosted his now former head coach unless it was a directive from his representation. Therefore, I'll go to the grave believing that the Saints would have met Mark Ingram in the middle if his agent didn't lose his mind...just a little. It still sucks something serious to know that such a familiar and galvanizing face won't be wearing the black & gold alongside Alvin Kamara next year, but it does slightly ease the pain to know that even Sean Payton was feeling the frustration. The Saints didn't wait because they were given no indication they should wait from the person they would have been waiting on. They simply did what they could not get stood up by someone who was presumably instructed to play hard to get while ignoring the status of the grass in seeing if the money was greener elsewhere, which was settle. I don't blame Mark Ingram for trying to maximize one last big pay day that he undoubtedly deserved. I'm just upset that his proverbial GPS malfunctioned while looking for it, as it allegedly took him too long without talking to get to the reasonable price and term he eventually accepted anyway. Just another reinforcement of the belief that this entirely unnecessary breakup was merely a product of circumstance, except this time with Mark Ingram's management assuming the nickname 'Circumstance'.
ESPN- Kingsbury said Tuesday at the NFL owners meetings that he'll implement "cellphone breaks" during team meetings. He did something similar while coaching at Texas Tech but will adapt it for NFL players.
"They're itching to get to those things," he said. Kingsbury will let the players break for their phones every 20 or 30 minutes -- what he called a "good run" -- right around the time he usually starts to see players lose interest. "You start to see kind of hands twitching and legs shaking, and you know they need to get that social media fix, so we'll let them hop over there and then get back in the meeting and refocus," Kingsbury said. While coaching the Red Raiders the past six years, Kingsbury saw firsthand just how short young football players' attention spans can be. Kingsbury said the average age in the NFL is 25, not much older than the players he coached in college. ------ I'd be quite the hypocrite if I typed in my password, opened up Twitter, stumbled upon this story mid-day on a Wednesday, and proceeded to scold Kliff Kingsbury for having the baseline understanding that the generation he's predominantly trying to get through to has the attention span of a goldfish that has taken too many subconcussive blows to the head. I mean, at 39 years of age with a clear consciousness of his Ryan Gosling-esque self image, you can argue you that he's not actively trying to relate to his technologically addicted players as much as he just instinctually does relate to them like a young, cool Uncle of sorts. Whatever the case may be, not updating your techniques in dealing with the new, more narcissistic breed of young adult like they are all as laser-focused on film study as Larry Fitzgerald is a good way to find yourself being tuned out in favor of a timeline. The truth is, I judge people for aimlessly scrolling through their phone at the table about as often as I catch myself involuntarily scrolling through my phone at the table. Therefore, as incredibly pathetic as it might be, maybe the occasional break for a notification check is what you have to give to get today's pro athletes to fully take to your approach. Either way, I can pretty much guarantee that Kliff Kingsbury won't be a failure based on the amount of time his team spends on social media. What he will be, however, is a parody if he just so happens to fail while also being the most stereotypical version of a stereotypical hire. Before Kliff Kingsbury even gelled his hair and slid on his designer sunglasses for the first time as the broke and beautiful man's Sean McVay for the Arizona Cardinals, the repressive old guard of NFL retreads already a skeptical eye on him as someone who didn't earn a job that he's historically too young, pretty, inexperienced for. I also tend to differ from 50-70 year old disciplinarians when it comes to preferred learning techniques. Unfortunately, I can't blame them for rolling their eyes when the formerly fired college coach whose lack of a need for an Instagram filter is as impressive as his lack of a need for a respectable resume decides his NFL team needs internet intermissions. I guess my point is that maybe it's best not to play right into their predictable and generalized critiques by branding the time intervals between team meetings as "cellphone breaks" and actively encouraging online distractions. Sort of feels like we're one step away from post-practice lunch appearing on the itinerary as 'brunch'. Not that it would really make any difference whatsoever if it did, but it would sure make the millennial jokes a whole hell of a lot easier to come by if he falls flat on his face while also millennializing his roster's day-to-day routine. After all, it's not like doing so returned reverent results at a much lower level of football. He might just be a pioneer, but I think I'd market his new age tactics a little more professionally as they make him even more likely to become a punchline.
While I have very little doubt that Jon Gruden is a passionate guy who wears his emotions on his sleeves and whose eyes have welled up, with either sorrow or joy, more from football than literally anything else in his life, I think doth protest just a few thousand too many tears here. As I recall, we're talking about a recent hire that didn't so much as reach out and initiate contact with Khalil Mack throughout his holdout, so implying that he spent upwards of 72 hours swimming in pool of his own sadness after an extended split that he snarled silently through seems a bit extreme. You might be able to convince me that he cried himself through many "don't know what ya got 'til it's gone" type moments after the season started and he was getting beaten six ways to Sunday in the breakup. I'm sure his office got mildly dusty when #52 was wrecking havoc on the entire NFC North while he was stuck sounding nothing short of senile in answering to Oakland's inability to pressure any quarterback other than their own, but in the immediate aftermath of the trade? Nah. That heartbreak was reserved for the Raiders' faithful that was left believing their team was too cheap to retain talent despite arranging a move to a city where money is no object and having just committed $100 million to a head coach that hadn't manned a sideline in a decade. Let's not retroactively manufacture the crocodile tears of some immediate mourning period as if Jon Gruden wasn't gung-ho in giving away a defensive destroyer the likes of which all other organizations were desperately searching for. That's a convenient rewriting of history after said quarterback killer predictably proceeded to have an unquantifiable impact on a playoff team, but it's not one that comes anywhere close to being considered non-fiction.
Thirty-one other inherently self-serving NFL head coaches. Thirty stubborn and oft-unrelatable NFL owners, with the only exception being that of a Bengals' organization that would be one step away from relegation if professional football were ever to enforce such a practice. One imbecile of an NFL commissioner, who'd rather beat off to his bank account than agree to make any sort of sizable changes to the league that keeps it fluidly flush at all times. That concludes the list of powerful people who Sean Payton convinced to indirectly admit that his team suffered such an outrageous and inexcusable injustice that something absolutely had to be done to prevent the league from enduring such an unsightly black eye in the future...
Saints' fans and/or players are still far too cynical for even one to believe that this "win" comes even remotely close to making up for the harrowing and heart-wrenching loss that necessitated it. Be prepared to continue telling New Orleans as a collective to get over it, because this hardly signals the end of their spiteful grudge. However, it's tough to think about how unbelievably unlikely it is to get almost the entirety of the NFL's billion-dollar brain trust to agree on anything that doesn't have a dollar sign attached, as well as look at that warm embrace between Sean Payton and Gayle Benson, and not come to the conclusion that this is an accomplishment - albeit a bittersweet one - for those heavily invested in the franchise. Now, this rule change is hardly a cure-all for negligent, cowardly, and flat-out piss poor officiating. You don't exactly need a telescope to foresee the stars of stupidity aligning in such a way that controversial pass interference calls, or lack thereof, endure the forever frustrating "what exactly is a catch?" treatment. That said, with the NFL's principled refusal to put any one of their many zeros worth of income towards the outcome of full-time referees whose jobs are actually dependent on identifying the blatantly obvious free from the game-situation during which it occurs, this is about the best anyone could hope for in terms of change. Perhaps whatever impassioned speech Sean Payton gave in swaying the unforgiving audience in a room that's resistant to change to damn near unanimity should be made public so that everyone feels the same about the NFL's rare attempted fix to something that actually affects the integrity of football. This wasn't about retroactively righting one disgraceful and dishonorable wrong, as the Who Dat Nation will gladly be demeaningly loud and obnoxiously proud in letting you know that will always and forever be an impossibility. This was about making more fair a product that impacts the fickle job security of thousands, even if that is an on-going and imperfect process. Root for the New Orleans Saints to ironically be on the wrong side of a rule their head coach was adamantly ingenious in having altered all you want, but don't say his head wasn't in the same place as his heart in doing so.
With the slow and steady way things have gone since the Saints actively started courting Jared Cook, I suppose Sean Payton's mildly non-comittal "understanding" that the premier tight end on the market has joined one of the offenses most likely to maximize his talents is the best we could have hoped in terms of an official announcement. In fact, the coyness of it is actually quite fitting of what's felt like a sitcom-esque inevitable relationship, in which the New England Patriots played the cameo role of the attractive suitor that ultimately ends up making the two parties realize exactly what they've seen in each other all this time. Of course, what really took so long was really the master class in cap economics that Mickey Loomis was undoubtedly putting on for Jared Cook and his agent. However, it was still reassuring to hear that not even a call from a Super Bowl champion with a first ballot HOF-sized opportunity available could get him to change courses before the final drop date. As for how Jared Cook fits into a Sean Payton offense that's never met a mismatch it wasn't overly anxious to exploit, I can't help but feel like I'm a bit late to the game in realizing how perfect it has the potential to be. I don't know if I underrated his athleticism due to the sheer incompetence of Jeff Fisher's Rams, or the inability of Aaron Rodgers-led offenses to get the most out of the tight end position, or the irrelevance of the Oakland Raiders, but what Jared Cook lacks in career consistency was more than made for by his versatility the last two seasons. It might be premature to think of him as much more than a rich man's Coby Fleener. Still, with the way he's able to exploit the seam, execute double moves, and use his size and speed to his advantage, you can definitely envision a reason to believe he could provide the production of a poor man's Jimmy Graham plus the occasional block or two. Especially in a Saints' system that's become more reliant on intermediate routes as their quarterback's accuracy has aged more gracefully than his arm strength. Now more so than ever before, Drew Brees needs to work with hand-in-hand with the scheme around him and there's nothing Sean Payton loves to do more than find ways to make the most of unique offensive skill sets. What's undeniable is that Jared Cook absolutely has one of those and it happens to match what the Saints have been missing at the flex tight end position for awhile now. If what's being reported is at all accurate then the only risk that comes with investing in a 31 year old player who is reliant on his athleticism has been minimized by a short deal that's front loaded in guaranteed money and backloaded in roster flexibility. Therefore, until further notice, there really isn't anything to dislike about an addition that helps open up an offense that probably wouldn't have needed to leave their fate in the blind eyes of officials if they had another prominent and experienced pass catcher available to them during the postseason. At least in theory, Michael Thomas, Alvin Kamara, and Jared Cook should all make each other more efficient, and they were are all pretty damn effective in their own right as is.
Oddly enough, I don't think Joe Thomas' transformation is anywhere near as shocking as the visual of it obviously is. That's not take anything away from the work he's put it in at both the gym and in the kitchen since hanging up his cleats as much as it is an even bigger credit to the work he had to put in on the field and in the cafeteria to do those cleats justice as one of the best tackles in all of football for over a decade. I guess I just can't be all-that-stunned that someone whose always had an astronomical amount of athletic ability now looks the part after being freed from having to eat small cattle daily just to satiate the size necessarily to protect NFL quarterbacks from gassed up goliaths. I definitely didn't foresee him looking like he'd be a major mismatch for almost any linebacker if asked to run a seam pattern after spending no more than a year removed from an NFL offensive line. However, it's not like there is anything natural, normal, or comfortable about consuming 10,000 calories a day and carrying around 300+ pounds of mostly muscle if you don't absolutely have to. Clearly Joe Thomas had to have himself on quite the regimen to go from a barrel-chested Paul Bunyan to a Bachelor contestant in the turn of one calender, but I think what's really being undersold here is the ruthless regimen he had to be on during his entire professional career to having him operating as a mobile brick wall to furious and fast freaks of nature.
The good news is that, between the quickness with which they solidified an timely weakness and Sean Payton's retrospectively suspicious identification of interior offensive line as an offseason need, it can be inferred that the New Orleans Saints weren't anywhere near as taken aback by the otherwise out-of-nowhere retirement of Max Unger as their fans were...
The bad news is that Nick Easton wasn't on the level of his predecessor prior to spending an entire season recovering from neck surgery, when he was being switched between guard and center, and thus probably isn't worth a cap hit comparable to the one that was just taken off their books. All in all, it's a moral(e ) victory to be able to bounce back from such an impactful loss of talent so quickly, but it's still a decided overall loss with how much trustworthiness and leadership are leaving the building. The Saints also emptied out their change purse to keep Cameron Tom within the organization, so having two players with the potential to fill Max Unger's immovable shoes is a hell of a lot better than getting caught with their pants completely down. That said, as tends to be the case when perennial Pro Bowl caliber protectors call it quits, there's undoubtedly more skepticism regarding the Saints' offensive line now than there was on Saturday morning. Nick Easton came undrafted out of Harvard, which - as evidenced by the immortal career of Ryan Fitzpatrick - buys him the assumption of on-field intelligence. I'm not so sure that says anything about him being able to keep Drew Brees' jersey clean, but it's at least something Saints' fans can use to sell themselves on his ability to start in the oft-pressured middle of a line in which knowledge is almost as good as power. The quarterback he'll be playing in front of has a tendency to make lineman look better with his pocket presence, but - for the time being - we'll stick with labeling the Saints' reconstructed situation over center as "could be better, could be worse". That's not all that awful considering the caliber of player and person they were left trying to replace.
It would be a huge disservice to the decade of dominant service Max Unger put in as the head of security at the oft-rushed gates to the thrones of the most notorious of vertically challenged quarterbacks to start off by talking about what the loss of Max Unger means to the immediate future of the Saints. The totality of his career is more than deserving of quite a few characters before tossing his name from the depth chart and flipping the script to the next chapter of the Saints' interior offensive line. After all, we're talking about a guy that was so consistent in solidifying one of the only positions in which success can be measured by anonymity that he turned the most unforgettable of majorly forgettable first round busts, in Stephone Anthony, into a minor mistake. Meanwhile, his impact was larger than that of the infamous matchup nightmare he was, in retrospect, basically traded straight up for. You aren't supposed to be able to get rid of otherworldly weapons the likes of Jimmy Graham and live to tell the tale, never mind ultimately thrive in doing so, and I think it's fair to say that deal was made to look better and better with each passing day. That's no small feat for a center. Drew Brees executes his most surgically precise dissections from a clean pocket, and he was hardly ever done dirty with Max Unger snapping him the ball. The importance of that can't be overstated with how key the offensive line, by way of run and pass blocking, was to the Saints' resurgence the last two seasons. I don't know that his retirement can be seen as entirely unexpected, as he's been successfully stonewalling 300+ pound physical freaks of nature for a full decade, but it certainly wasn't something that was foreseen outside the closed doors of the organization. Needless to say, it's an unpleasant surprise, as his largely penalty and pressure-free tenure in New Orleans was more pleasant than anyone could have imagined when it started. Hats off to him for being put in the precarious position of making up for the absence of someone who was larger than life in the Saints' offense....and, more importantly, succeeding. In an expedited form and fashion that hardly allowed for the collective breath of the Who Dat Nation to be bated, the hole left on the line by the final farewell of a Pro Bowl caliber talent has already been filled, albeit in a way that makes for less stable grounds. However, it's not as much the loss of Max Unger's talent as it is the loss of his leadership and his fit in a locker room with boat loads of unfinished business that concerns me. The Saints were seemingly constructed perfectly last year, so every non-returning piece feels like one painstakingly pulled from an untouched Jenga tower. That's almost certainly an overreaction, but - no matter how good Nick Easton or Cameron Tom end up being - Max Unger's retirement definitely hurts the continuity of a roster that holds both a special and spiteful place in the heart of Saints' fans. He's earned every ounce of the opportunity to enjoy the fruits of his unforgiving labor, but he will be missed by the team for which he was somehow as durable as he was dependable in his captaincy.
Seems as though I owe somebody an apology. Here I was assuming that all John Elway did by trading for Joe Flacco was further his annual streak of starting new and disproved quarterbacks that happen to be insanely average, at best, in the most basic of skill-sets. How could I have been so careless to do so without keeping some toast handy to make use of any potential egg off my face? I mean, who could forget that the young and spry 34 year old is only now entering the prime* of his career as someone who has already put together an extensive resume of near flawlessly snatching the ball directly from the taint of an offensive lineman in just 11 short years of playing the quarterback position professionally? Me, that's who. I somehow let the indisputable fact that Joe Flacco is still 16 whole years away from being eligible for an AARP card slip my mind, and thus lost sight of the idea that he's still yet to have played out the promise of his golden years. For that, I offer my deepest apologies to John Elway, the whisperer of all tall quarterbacks who can throw a football far, have the discipline in their inherent lack of mobility to never stray too far from under center, and are just young enough to understand all-too-well the value of a full eight hours of sleep. And they say his personnel decisions in the passer department are too heavily influenced by his own career path, HA! * ...or is it twilight? I always get those mixed up. Whatever, they both sound good, right?
Look, I'm not about to go pixel by pixel in dissecting the perceived intentions of the players in a clip of a completely meaningless play made in an old game in which the outcome was already a foregone conclusion. Maybe Ben Roethlisberger fumbled intentionally to prove to Todd Haley that he is every bit the hard-headed, overbearing dickhead his now former offensive coordinator is, or maybe his fingers were half as fat as his face as he happened to clumsily jam the ball off the torso of his fullback in the most harmless of situation. It's not really my place to say...or even care really. Unfortunately, it's also not really the point whatsoever. The actual point is that, all bias aside, you can't tell me with a shred of certainty that Ben Roethlisberger is above intentionally putting the ball on the turf as part of a tenuous tantrum. More importantly, someone that played a small role alongside him seems perfectly positive that that's exactly what his teammate did, despite said teammate playing a position in which leadership is absolutely paramount. The truth is, it doesn't really matter whether or not Josh Harris is right or wrong. What does matter is that nothing we've seen or heard from or about Ben Roethlisberger leaves you feeling inlined to give him the benefit of the doubt in regards to what is an otherwise preposterous accusation. The fact that I used the word 'maybe' even once in a blog about an NFL quarterback possibly fumbling on purpose and putting at risk the health of those that are tasked with diving into a heap of superhumans in hopes of recovering said fumble is more than enough of an indictment of said NFL quarterback's personality. I think you need to dedicate an entire floor of your facilitaties to the maintenance of Antonio Brown's mental state, so I'm certainly not placing the Steelers' damn near weekly subscription of issues squarely at the feet of Ben Roethlisberger. I am, however, saying I can't put it past him to "trip" over those feet in an orchestrated and counterproductive act of assholery, which is not exactly the lack of trust you'd prefer to have in someone who, contrary to popular belief, fancies himself a leader. |
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