10
Nov
2009
NFL MIDSEASON BULLETIN: GIVE UP NOW
We arrive at that brutal hour of the season—the midpoint—and far too many teams, despite their outward posture of exuberance and bravado, know it’s over. They haven’t the men to go the distance. They’re unable to pound the ball on the opponent, their defensive front is too meek and moveable, and their passer is unsure of himself in the dark moments of the night. In some form, there exists a fatal flaw.
This time around, nice guys go home. (Source: AP)
I see no need to examine all 32 teams—80% of them are complete jokers. Organizations getting by, at best—some putting on a better show than others. They will all fail in the end—all but one.
I find the New York Giants vaguely intriguing, but floundering. I haven’t over-analyzed their recent losing streak, and I don’t need to. The entire league understands that something is wrong with Big Blue. They’re flailing, they’re exposed, it’s been a terrible month. Their loyal fanbase, so used to victory, is at a point of conflict: they see something drastically wrong, and must ultimately come to grips with it, but still hold hope that the G-Men will roar back to life and re-materialize as the team everyone believes them to be. The facts are less forgiving: Eli and the Giants have been scorched and stand vulnerable before the NFC East and the league, in general. Few fear them.
As much as it pains me to say it, the Steelers are one of the few teams to be taken seriously. (Source: AP)
It’s vanity. So many of these teams are pathetic. Wandering drunken, it seems. Two or three teams are legitimate. The rest of it is comprehensive farce. Looming as a colossal joke. As a fan of Atlanta, Miami, San Diego, Baltimore—or anyone lesser—you’d be better off spending evenings at the library, mowing lawns, helping the poor and the orphans, or backpacking through Europe with your tedious college friends. This season will end in despair for you, and devoting another second of your life on it is a waste of time. Go do something with your one chance on earth. Disembowel your fantasy football team, turn off the television, and find something better to do with your existence.
Saints fans: You’re probably rolling up your sleeves, thinking you’re badass—but your fate will be horrendous. Drew Brees will bite it in Week 15, sustaining a season-ending injury. The Saints, NFC darlings, will be taken down in the NFC Divisional round of the playoffs. Why? Here’s why. Each year, without fail, we get a lovable team that goes 14-2 in the regular season only to get bounced early—and the Saints are that team. You’re the pre-2006 Indianapolis Colts. You’re the Chiefs under Schottenheimer. You’re the 1986-1988 Chicago Bears. Huge regular season. Tons of feel-good press. Overrated by the blind. Total memory by mid-Jan.
Dallas Cowboys followers (who love ease): Your team is stocked with an unlikeable, cocky, self-entitled and underachieving collection of forgettables. You will make no dent in the postseason. You strung a few wins together: don’t care. Tony Romo, who’s about as endearing as a frat boy accused of murder by hazing, has never won when it matters. This team will dissemble at the critical hour. This team is impossible to root for. Under no circumstance can the average American find solace in the Dallas Cowboys. Hilariously, they still label themselves “America’s Team,” with no recognition of why our country, and our people, have moved beyond lauding a team like the Cowboys. Why does ESPN still center on them? Because ESPN feeds on the weak. We don’t live the in 1970s anymore. The whole cocksure, megalomaniacal position embraced by Dallas is a joke at this point. Our country has changed, we’ve woken up to our own flaws, and the Cowboys don’t represent anything anymore—beyond the disease of style before substance. We don’t care if the press caters to the lowest common denominator, harassing us with Cowboys pregame segments on a weekly basis–this team hasn’t made an impact on the NFL playoffs since the mid-90s. That isn’t about to change.
The Dallas Cowboys -- always poolside, always overrated, always bathed in hype -- haven't done a thing in 15 years. (Source: AP)
As much as I hate to say it, the Pittsburgh Steelers stand as the team to beat. They aren’t flashy, they aren’t undefeated, but they know how to win big games—and they know how to win ugly. They’ll march right back to the Super Bowl—and this is coming from a wildly pissed off Browns fan. This team isn’t afraid of anything. They might hit January with a 10-6 record—it doesn’t matter. These guys win. I can’t stand the sight of them, but they win.
Football fans—most of them—are in for a big disappointment. The practice of deluding yourself, rooting for a doomed team, will never pay off. It’s over for you. But not everything: Unlike Eli Manning, you still have to toil away at your endless day job, you still have a load of bills to pay, you still have to scrape ice off your car in order to drive to the office on Monday morning at 6:41 a.m.—that exhaustion is alive and well and enduring—but your football team is lost and over and nearing its final hour.
And this will be you come January—if not sooner.
Get out now.
Go do something valuable with your life.
You’ve wasted too many years living vicariously through others.
Turn away from the machine.
Turn off the TV.
Vanish into the western plains. Disappear forever into the earth—turn your eyes away from this.
