Posts Tagged 'NFL'

If he floats, he’s a witch; Trent Edwards and the Bills

How can you tell if a witch is a witch? Toss one in the water. If it floats, it’s a witch. If it drowns, it’s not a witch.

How can you tell if a Buffalo Bills quarterback is worthy of a starting position? Play him in a few regular season games. If he stinks, then you know he stinks. So goes the ill-fated history of Trent Edwards’ tenure with the Bills.

The Buffalo Bills don’t seem to understand that there are other ways of evaluating quarterbacks. They also don’t seem to understand basic economic principles like supply and demand. When there was a demand for quarterbacks in the offseason, they didn’t want to sell. And once they found out they were stuck with some bad inventory, they just threw it out on the curb for anyone to grab. Another write off in the endless “bad quarterback debts” account.


Weekend at Farve’s

When several media outlets recently reported that Brett Farve might have called it quits, there wasn’t the usual groundswell of hagiographic retirement stories that are reserved for those who heal lepers, cure cancer and balance our budget.

A grey-bearded boy can only cry wolf so often.

So, after the Vikings sent out their Farve headhunters to plead with him to come back, he’s back. Your five-dollar street-corner tarot reader could have told you that Farve would be wearing a Vikings jersey come fall.

As this saga plays out year after year, I can’t help but think that Farve is becoming addicted to the process.

But there must be a time when the clock runs out on his epical Farvian career, right?

It’s become such a farce that at this point, I can see him shuffling off this mortal coil, only to come back the next year, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, taking snaps to cabana music under the moniker of “Bernie Farve.”

He shall cast himself in “Weekend at Bernie’s 3: Farve throws more interceptions.”

How could you give it anything less than two thumbs up?

Cowboys game or a car?

After looking at a recent report detailing the costs of attending NFL games in 2009, economists might want to reexamine foreclosure and bankrupcy data in Dallas.

At about $760 for a family of four to attend a game (food, souvenirs, parking included), you wonder how many second and third mortgages people took out for a few hours of Sunday entertainment. The $5 hot dogs and sodas aren’t as disconcerting as the $159.65 average ticket. Granted, NFL teams only have eight regular season home games per season, but for the price of a ticket, you could feed a family of four … for a week or two.

The Cowboys were the priciest show in the league, while the Buffalo Bills were at the other end of the spectrum. For $303.96, you could entertain a family of four on a Sunday, although the entertainment factor is questionable. The tickets, at an average of $51.24 a pop, were below the league average from 2004, but then again you were mostly paying to watch one team play (the visitors).

Haynesworth’s new digs?

One of the most lucrative contracts ever clearly wasn’t enough to motivate Albert Haynesworth. Most dictators or even countries would settle for such a contract. But it’s not about money, as Mr. Haynesworth wants us to know. He just wants to play. Right.

So, what to do? Well, restructure his contract to cater to his tastes. The Oakland A’s stroked the ‘stache of Rollie Fingers with a clause that gave the pitcher $300 for growing a mustache and, get this, $100 to purchase mustache wax.

The Redskins should consider letting Haynesworth have his own little stadium where he can warm up before games:

The Snackadium.

Haynesworth Field

Now I know that Haynesworth has dropped some weight, but if the Skins want him to perform and keep his mouth shut, all they need to do is provide two of these “practice” fields (one for pregame and one for postgame) each Sunday.

The model above may not be perfect (where is the blimp made of marshmallows or the pigs in a blanket parachuting in during the national anthem?), but I’m sure Ben’s Chili Bowl or Ray’s Hell Burger can construct a similar edible edifice.

I’m still working on a JaMarcus Russell Syzzurp Bowl …

Monday-morning economists

Amid all the doom and gloom of the financial crisis enveloping our country, there are a few positives that have come on the coattails of an anemic economy.

Yes, due to the tightening of corporate belts, some of us have been granted a reprieve from the daunting office party, where a drunken coworker whom you barely know slobbers in your ear for two hours.

But let’s take stock of some of the bigger prizes a recession has to offer.

For many years, we have been a nation of Monday-morning quarterbacks. These days, however, we are slowly becoming a nation of Monday-morning economists.

Two years ago, when the top Google searches were likely Peyton Manning or Brett Favre, not too many of us could hazard a guess as to who the heck Henry Paulson or Rep. Barney Frank were.

Now, we are analyzing the every move of Ben Bernanke and Sen. George V. Voinovich like they are on our fantasy team. (Should we start Sen. Harry Reid in our top negotiator spot? What if he’s up against the vaunted defense of Sen. Mitch McConnell? Who was smart enough to pick up Sen. Bob Corker on waivers two weeks ago? And really, why do we bother listening to the fantasy tips when they tell us things like, ‘You may want to consider sitting Gov. Rod Blagojevich this week?’)

But all of this is good, right? We should be ruthlessly critical toward those who make decisions that influence our lives, and we should feel obligated to listen to what these public figures have to say. (And maybe we should ignore Sean Avery, who talked smack about his ex-girlfriends, or Terrell Owens, who is once again causing locker room drama) Wasn’t it reassuring that when the CEO’s of the major American auto companies came to Washington to ask for a bailout without any concrete plans, and we tore into them much like we did to Allen Iverson when he skipped practice? But really, we should have gone soft on those CEOs, after all, we were talking about practice, albeit a practice important enough to necessitate private jets.

Whereas we used to treat the exorbitant Wall Street bonuses like “Manny being Manny,” we no longer give out that kind of free pass.

All this scrutiny is promising, but what we really need is some drunken heckling. Let’s allow those guys from the Cleveland Dawg Pound to sit in on congressional hearings and tear GM CEO Rick Wagoner apart, while funneling beers through their dog masks, obviously. 

Before we completely excoriate our new stars, we should stop and thank them for giving us a new perspective. Sure, the Detroit Lions and Tampa Bay Lightning may be under investigation by the Anti-Defamation League for their assault on the word underachiever, but when we put them next to our banks, investment firms and auto companies, these teams like downright dynastic.

The Lions are the NFL’s Yugo, on track to go 0-16 and enshrine themselves in the annals of futility. Unlike every other Ford product, however, the Lions are profitable. With a payroll of $96 million, the Lions are a steal — for the owners. Why not pay 26th-string quarterback Dan Orlovsky $933,240 to lose a few games? It’s highway robbery compared to Rick Wagoner’s salary, even if he ends up bringing in $1 this year. Let’s go Lions!?

Indeed, the economic downturn has given us plenty for which to be thankful.

Croppaganda’s Twittin’