Season Finale

Day 3: March 4 2010

Prior to 2002, I had never pulled an all-nighter. Sleepovers at the time consisted of ten or so of us gathering at a kid's house, eating pizza, and playing video games. Brutally intense tournaments were built around whichever video game was chosen (usually either Smash Brothers or the EA Sports title that was in season).

This meant that for long periods at a time, two kids would be facing off against each other while eight other kids silently sat staring at the screen. My passive aggressiveness - "too bad my quarterback's accuracy rating isn't as high as yours" - was honed over many such showdowns. Tempers flared and a small amount of property was destroyed. One or two kids wouldn't take the game seriously and would spend their turn dicking around, which was considerably worse than kids like me who cared too much and acted like jerks when we lost. Apathetic kids brought into stark relief the fact that we had become emotionally invested in a meaningless pseudosport.

Finally, futile attempts to descramble the porn channel ("my brother taught me how! he swears this works!") and a discussion of women occurred before we collapsed into our sleeping bags. The host's parents usually let us sleep until about 11:00 am the next morning at which point they would wake us with bagels and orange juice. We would retire, smelly and exhausted, to our respective homes shortly thereafter.

2002 was the first sleepover I attended at which we succeeded in staying up until 7:00 am. The scene in the basement when the clock finally crossed 7:00 was very similar to how the NASA control room reacts after a daring mission succeeds in every space movie ever: muted, exhausted clapping and a series of hugs.

I have never pulled an all-nighter in college, but yesterday was pretty damn close.

A combination of strong coffee and inefficient study habits led me to fall asleep at 3:00. This is late, but not unusually late for a college student. However, my strategy on the night before tests is to study until I am no longer retaining material, then fall asleep, then set an alarm for 5:15 a.m. so I can wake up and finish cramming before the test. The strategy means I can squeeze in some sleep before a test, such as the one I had this morning at 10:30.

The test ended at noon and the adrenaline eventually wore off. By the mid-afternoon, I was cranky and needed a nap. Running today was going to be a challenge.

My plans to groggily tough it out and run a few miles today soon changed. I received an email from my intramural basketball team members indicating that we had enough people to play the game tonight. Since it was the night before spring break, a lot of kids had already flown out and left campus. Instead of forfeiting the game, we fielded a team and competed – though I'm being fairly liberal in my interpretation of the word "compete". A brief recap of our season:

Game 1: We played with the chemistry of a collection of overpaid superstars, except we all suck at basketball and no one gets paid. So, we were pretty much left with a team of crappy players who couldn't play defense or rebound. After trailing all game, we narrowed the deficit to nine with five minutes left before ultimately falling by twelve. I had six points.

Game 2: We played against a fraternity's intramural squad. All of them were built like Kevin Durant – our opponent's entire roster was seemingly over 6'1 and 150 pounds. After falling behind by twenty in the second half, I drain a couple of threes to pad my stat line and finish with twelve points.

Game 3: The nadir of my athletic career and an outcome which nearly sent me into retirement. The other team, again from a fraternity, only had four players. We lost by ten. To put this in perspective for non-basketball fans, it's similar to playing against someone at chess and losing, only they played with no queen or rooks. To put it in perspective for non-chess fans, it's like losing a basketball game to a team with FOUR !&#?!# players on it. I once wrote that my basketball ability was "a worse version of Royal Ivey". It turns out that's incredibly unfair to Royal Ivey. I think it's more accurate to compare me to those people at NBA games who get selected to make a free throw for a bunch of money, only if instead of merely airballing the shot the contestant somehow turned the ball over seven times and generally made James Naismith's family weep, and then his pants fall down for added humiliation.

Game 4: The March 4^th game was the season finale. We finally played solid help defense and hung in the game the entire time, but could not make a shot. The final score was 42 – 27.

It's hard to write about one's own basketball games without sounding like Matt Christopher. I remember plowing through dozens of his books back in elementary school (all of them had titles like Ice Magic or Nothing but Net). From what I recall, the books did not follow the Hollywood formula of "gritty underdog overcomes adversity and beats rival in final game".

So, in terms of my Broad Street Run Quest, I did not technically run any miles today, but I played a competitive basketball game so it counts as something. I have a whiteboard in my room, and I wrote "Did I run today?" on one side and "Broad Street Run in X Days" on the other and I keep updating it. I have ran for three straight days (not impressive yet) and the Run is in just under two months. I also wrote "Do Not Erase" and circled it so the custodial staff knows to keep it.

Days 1 and 2

disclaimer: read the previous post first

As I mentioned in my previous post, today begins the Quest to complete the Broad Street Run in Philadelphia on May 2^nd. I have sixty days to get into shape, which so far has left me impressed by sports movie montages because right now it feels I'm filming all the material that gets edited out. If they made a movie of what's happened so far, it would literally be two hours of an exhausted, sweaty guy doing nothing interesting, but thanks to the new Oscar rules it's probably worth a Best Picture nomination.

Day 1: March 2, 2010

I initially intended on running at 6:30 a.m. this morning and getting it out of the way early. Thirteen hours later, I was finally on a treadmill.

The day started with a 6:00 a.m. reveille initiated by my phone. An individual's cell phone alarm eventually gets to be the most hated sound in that person's universe due to the unadulterated misery it brings on a daily basis. In fact, I encourage you to play the alarm tone on your cell right now and experience the combination of fear and rage that is usually reserved for early mornings. I thought it was pretty cool that the tone has the ability to elicit this emotional response at any time of day.

Tuesdays are a tough day; class from 9 until noon and work from noon until 5. The best days at the work are when the office gets breakfast catered, which means that there are huge amounts of bagels, muffins, eggs, and various other rapidly decaying foods up for grabs throughout the afternoon. I was starving around 4:30 and knew that I was going to run, so I plowed through two stale bagels and two muffins. Distance running on an empty stomach is nearly impossible and I considered it necessary.

Eventually, I was changed and ready to go to the David S. Pottruck Fitness Center. I put my earbuds in and flipped my iPod over to my Eminem collection; I've been on an Eminem kick for the last two weeks and I turned on 2002's phenomenal The Eminem Show. The walk from my house to the gym gave me the following songs: "Hailie's Song"; "Till I Collapse"; and "My Dad's Gone Crazy". I Wikipedia'd the album later on, and I learned that "Hailie's Song" samples "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and that "Till I Collapse" samples "We Will Rock You". Too bad Relapse was awful; Em's old stuff puts all modern rap to shame.

I already ran a few times in the past week before yesterday, and so I was ready to see if I could set a personal distance record. The goal was seven miles. Unfortunately, I was at the gym during peak occupancy hours (5:00 p.m. to 7:00 p.m.) and I had to wait for a treadmill. This allowed me to notice parts of gym culture to which I had never before paid any attention.

1. The ridiculous split between intense runners and people who are at the gym to be seen. I am neither, but it is easy for to identify members of each clan. The intense runners dress in goofy skintight clothes (like bicyclists) and wear short shorts on top of their leggings. They usually wear t-shirts they received from their respective high school running teams which have movie quotes across the back where the last name would be on a football uniform. For example, the front might say Spiro T. Agnew Regional High School and the back would say something that's kind of amusing at first, but gets progressively lamer which each subsequent reading, much like Fundamentally Soundd. The people who are at the gym to be seen arrive in leggings as well, but they don't wear baggy clothes on top in order to showcase the curves of their bodies. This is a trend which makes me alternately thankful or furious depending on the figure in question. Casual treadmill users will never select a speed greater than two miles per hour and have either a really fat chemistry textbook or the latest issue of The Economist splashed across the machine's control panel. I never understood the concept of reading while being on a treadmill. I think it's a lot like those kids who used to carry around SAT prep books with them all the time in high school, meaning that it's nothing more than a display of how Seriously they need to be taken. Sometimes they read Vogue though, so I don't know.
   
2. The energy shake stand within the gym served two purposes. First, it reminded me of Power Rangers, since I think that they all used to work in the yogurt section of a karate gym or something. Second, it was clear that some of the shakes were actually pretty bad for you. Even though the sign out front says that all of the drinks are non-fat (maybe it said low-fat, I can't remember in hindsight), I was curious and I requested the nutrition facts pamphlet. The verdict? Fat! The peanut butter based smoothies all have at least 15 grams of fat. Someone should do something about this. Or, to put it more accurately, someone else should do something about this. Penn is a place where the first milk container to be empty in the dining halls is always the one which holds skim, which suggests that most people are obsessively competitive about fitness. If I can be 15 grams of fat ahead of everyone else, it's a secret I'm willing to keep.
   
3. Do you remember when Al Gore pledged in a 2000 Presidential Debate that he would put funds in a "lockbox" in order to save Social Security, and the term became a pop culture hallmark for a year or so after that? The gym literally has a lockbox, which is a giant cardboard box filled with dozens of locks that people have lost. I asked the attendant about it, and he said that people who lose locks are too cheap to spring $6 for a new one, so they spend hours trying their combination on the entire pile of identical Master locks. He even said that in the past week, two separate people picked their lock correctly out of the huge box on the first try.
   

After indulging my inner Tocqueville (Travels in America? Anyone?) for fifteen minutes, a treadmill finally opened up. For the record, I am aware that Tocqueville references are also pretentious displays of how Seriously one needs to be taken, but I'll be damned if that asshat Montesquieu ever gets mentioned on this blog again. After extensive stretching, I jumped on, turned the speed up to 6.5, and began to run. Over the next 70 minutes or so that I was running, a few thoughts crossed my mind.

First, the Pottruck televisions that are displayed in front of the treadmills are unbearably cruel. The channels on the three that I could see were showing Juno, Around the Horn, and some Food Network program. The fact that I actually enjoy sports meant that I didn't want to see the first two, and the fact that I was starving and had nothing but cold spaghetti at home meant I didn't want to watch the final one. When I ran on Sunday, they Professional Bowling U.S. Open was on and it was wonderful. Not only is the sport strangely riveting, but the announcers don't waste any time describing the action or analyzing the play. Instead, they talk about how Bowler X is "such a good guy" and how Bowler Y is "staying at Bowler Z's house for the weekend – you don't get to do that unless you're a really good guy".

Second, mile five is the breaking point right now for me. I was fine through five, but the last two were pretty tough. Gotta step it up if the Broad Street Run is in my future.

Eventually, the screen flashed "7.00" and it was time to stop. I climbed off and immediately began stretching again, hoping to ward off future soreness. I'm not sure if this helps or not. From what I can gather, most of the secrets of running technique are closely guarded by witch doctors and shamans and it's therefore impossible for a layperson such as me to figure out what I'm actually supposed to do. When and what should I eat? Should I stretch? At what points? Which shoes are the best? I may never know.

It felt damn good to accomplish my goal of seven miles. I lied down on my back and swung my legs once each to my right and left to crack my back. Sweat from my hair began to drip directly into my eyes.

Day 2: March 3, 2010

Today's run was far more stressful and far less fun than yesterday's. I have a test tomorrow, so it was not easy to carve out time to go for a run. Second, I was advised that the day after a heavy run should be followed by a light run in order to help clear the legs of excess lactic acid. Again, I have no idea if this is good running technique or not, but my friend seems to be a knowledgeable source (four years of cross country in high school). Then again, this man was once involved in creating a situation in which urine was filtered through a Brita pitcher and drank – albeit by someone else – so I don't really know what to believe. Lactic acid reminds me of anaerobic respiration, which is the only type of respiration I believe in since aerobic respiration sold out and gave that bastard Krebs the naming rights to the historic Citric Acid Cycle.

Yesterday's music for the walk to the gym was provided by Eminem. Today's was Animal Collective. I am not sure how to feel about Animal Collective. On one hand, they are indisputably the most critically acclaimed band in the indie rock world. On the other hand, their work more frequently sounds like noise than music. I turned on 2009's Merriweather Post Pavillion and listened to "Summertime Clothes" and "Bluish". I like both of these songs, but I really don't get what the big deal is about these guys.

After making fun of Pottruck's vaunted lockbox, I found that I actually needed to use it. I lost my lock the day before – I was probably still riding high after the seven mile run and wasn't paying attention. In any case, I did not need to sift through the giant pile of locks since mine was the only one that was a) golden and b) not a Master lock. I learned about this study where there is a certain type of fish that hunts other types of fish, and the predators target prey that have atypical red undersides (most prey fish had silver undersides, so the red ones stuck out). In an experiment, the predator fish would not attack a dummy prey fish that was shaped exactly like the actual prey fish, but it would attack a shapeless red blob. In conclusion, fish have very short attention spans, but most of what they are thinking is pretty racist.

2.7 miles later, I was ready to call it quits. On the walk home, I started reading a Club Trillion post that I missed. I found the site thanks to a tweet by Bill Simmons, and it's phenomenal. Mark Titus is the man.

The Council of Elrond

Driving along Route 22 in New Jersey is kind of like driving through a pop-up ad from a shady website. I think there's even a store named about:blank. Sadly, instead of Orbitz challenging me to sink putts for low fares, there's an endless display of garishly decorated storefronts competing for the attention of the denizens of central Jersey. One such location is The Sports Authority, which underwent a rapid image transformation since it changed its name from The Sports Authoritarian in the early '90s (they used to sell mostly tennis rackets, rigged elections, and nepotism).

When I walked inside, the first thing that hit me was the smell. As with all department stores, Sports Authority smells like shoe polish, but pointier if that makes sense. It's not so much of a smell as something you can feel, to the extent that my nose and bronchial tubes hurt for the first few breaths I took.

I decided to take up running as a hobby some time ago. My budget for new sneakers was limited to $40 and, fortunately, Sports Authority had a pair of Nikes for exactly $40. I went through the ancient ritual of shoe purchasers since time immemorial.

First, I sat down on the shoe-tying bench, opened the box, and removed the wax paper that supported the toes of the shoe. I proceeded to carefully weave the laces and slip one on, then looked at my dad and told him that they "felt good" in an attempt to expedite an agreement to purchase the shoes. Obviously, it failed. As per the ritual, my dad then insisted that I try both on and walk around a little bit. I did a half-assed job of lacing up shoe #2 and walking up and down the aisle with my eyes flitting among the angled mirrors that are affixed to the shoe-tying benches in the sneaker section. Finally, I concluded the ritual by nodding somberly and confirming my initial diagnosis: the shoes "felt good" and were fit for a purchase. The dance was complete and consensus was built.

The hidden upside to buying the shoes is that it incentivized running; after all, the only way to use my new toys was to hop onto a treadmill several times per week. My friend, who I named Gunslinger of the Year a few months ago, had far more running experience than I did and I asked him to help me shape a regimen. Gunslinging and planning do not mix and most of his advice involved Hydroxycut. I plowed ahead anyway and began hitting the campus gym regularly.

When intramural basketball season began, I ditched running in favor of doing my world-class Royal Ivey impression. Between the practices to regain what little skill I had and the games themselves, running took a backseat to basketball. When the season ended last week, I decided it was time to make a dramatic return to the treadmill and started up my routine again. As of today, there are sixty days until the Broad Street Run, a 10-mile race through Philadelphia. I am slow and most of my athletic accomplishments, in hindsight, are either exaggerations or outright lies that are complicated enough that they sound real. For example, there was the time we ran a halfback trap and I was the pulling left tackle, and it gained seven crucial yards on 2^nd and 8 while we were nursing a nine point lead in the fourth quarter of the Inter-County Police Athletic League Championship Game back in 3^rd grade. Still, sixty days to get in shape and finish the Broad Street Run is the goal.

A few quick notes before the (hopefully) daily entries begin: I have already been running or playing basketball consistently so I'm not completely out of shape. I started off barely able to finish 2.5 miles in January and have improved considerably, so this is not quite a zero-to-hero story (unlike Disney's Hercules). I run at 6.5 miles per hour – admittedly not very fast – but it's the best rate I can manage while running for distance. Finally, I began running seriously again yesterday, so today's entry will be a combination of thoughts from both today and yesterday.

With that, the Quest begins. Hopefully, the decision to write about my mission to finish the Broad Street Run tethers my dual goals of returning to Fundamentally Soundd with both barrels blazing and finishing a big race while leveraging the synergistic capabilities inherent in embarking on a new quest and concurrently minimizing negative externalities. And yes, I have an exam in Management class tomorrow.

The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen

Stanford is not an Ivy League school. Yet it enjoys the sterling academic reputation that comes with Ivy association. Moreover, it boasts a name recognition that dwarfs that of actual Ivy schools such as Penn or Brown.

It doesn’t take an ivory tower egghead to figure out why. Stanford competes in the Pac-10, a top-rate NCAA athletic conference. Moreover, each school has demonstrated the ability to compete – and dominate – at the highest level of collegiate athletics. Stanford’s football team recently drubbed USC’s, and its starting running back nearly won the Heisman trophy.

The Ivy football champion is barred from postseason play, and even the basketball champion is forever fated to a #13-seed and first round exit. Penn’s Franklin Field, an historic football stadium with a gorgeous view of the Philadelphia skyline, is barely filled to 25% capacity for most Saturday home games.

But can you blame the students for not showing up? Their absence, obviously, is not the fault of the athletes. They performed wonderfully and just won the conference. Rather, the idiotic rules of the conference act as a direct deterrent to student interest. An Ivy return to the top of collegiate athletics and the accompanying leap in name recognition can be achieved without sacrificing academic standards. The stubborn refusal to do so has doomed Penn and its peer institutions to toil in anonymity.

1.

Since its 1954 inception - how many people who fawn over Ivy history know the actual League was founded a mere 65 years ago? – the League has banned postseason play for its member football teams. Ivy champions are not allowed to participate in the I-AA postseason tournament even if they would otherwise qualify due to this archaic rule.

Other I-AA football programs compete in a sixteen team tournament than runs from late November to mid-December. An undisputed national champion is crowned. This year, the national champion was Villanova, which had trouble beating Penn in the season opener this year. Penn, the eventual Ivy champion, was never given an opportunity to avenge the loss thanks to the ban on postseason play.

According to a 2006 article in the Daily Princetonian, there are two main reasons Ivy executives cite for upholding the ban. First, they claim that allowing postseason football play would disrupt the finals schedule of the athletes involved. Second, they believe the in-conference rivalries would erode since Ivy teams would focus on winning the postseason tournament.

These arguments are politely dismissed as misguided and more accurately described as moronic. The first argument, which is that student academics would be disrupted, is easily dismissed for its hypocrisy. An Ivy basketball champion could presumably be involved in an entire month of postseason play if it were to win the NCAA tournament in March. Yet extending the football season for a maximum of three weeks is “too disruptive”. The effect on basketball is just one example; obviously, since all sports except football are allowed to compete in their respective postseasons, every Ivy athlete is “disrupted” to some extent. But this is apparently ok. The arrogantly snobbish need to hew to tradition is more important than applying an equal standard across all sports.

The second argument is even more troubling, for the notion that postseason play would dilute the regular season is absurd. Look at the rivalry between Ohio State and Michigan, which is undoubtedly the sport’s most historic. When postseason play is at stake, such as in 2006 when a national title berth was on the line, the game is only augmented by the possibility of the second season. When one team wallows in mediocrity, as my beloved Wolverines have for the past several seasons, the game is still heated due to the possibility to spoil Ohio State’s postseason chances. The added aspect of a postseason keeps the games interesting.

More importantly, I’m wondering what which rivalries the Ivy executives are seeking to preserve. Sure, The Game between Harvard and Yale means something every year, but how would that change if a postseason berth was at stake? Would it not mean even more? Besides this one match-up, no other pairings generate the same level of interest. No one is currently tuning in to Providence public access television to watch Brown take on Dartmouth. But a Brown-Dartmouth game with a postseason tournament berth on the line would draw interest due to the fact that the winner could ultimately become the I-AA national champion.

As a quick aside, no one at Princeton considers Penn a rival. It’s not a rivalry if only one side cares. I’ve always considered Columbia a more natural rival – both urban schools get a Dangerfieldian level of respect despite deserving more.

Finally, there is no doubt that winning the Ivy League football title is an impressive accomplishment. But it is just as insular as winning the MAC conference. That is, nobody outside the conference particularly cares.

2.

It wasn’t always like this. For 80 years beginning in 1869, an Ivy champion had a chance to be a national champion. Princeton won the title in 1950, the last year an Ivy team would do so.

Obviously, these facts require some context. First and foremost, the Ivy League did not exist until the 1950s. Therefore, when Princeton or Penn won the title a century ago, it was technically not the Ivy Champion though the schedules between then and now are comparable. The few schools that played football for the first few decades of the sport’s existence did not have to beat many teams in order to win the title. There was also no postseason tournament to win.

But these caveats still do not deny the fact that Ivy games once meant something more than the insular competitions they represent today. Franklin Field, the country’s first stadium, was once filled on a weekly basis because the fans knew that a significant prize was at stake. The contemporary lack of similar enthusiasm is understandable since nothing more than the league title is at stake. There are no national implications. Even the NFL can’t sell out preseason games.

The I-AA postseason tournament would partially alleviate this problem. Schools like Montana and Appalachian State have strong student support for their teams since each has annual title aspirations. There is no logical reason Franklin Field can’t draw similar crowds. But why settle for I-AA?

3.

No one can name the last two I-AA champions. But any fan with a passing interest in college football knows that Alabama and Florida were the last two to hoist the BCS title. In order to become fully relevant again, the Ivy League must embrace I-A football.

Critics of this strategy to finally compete with the Big 12 and the Pac-10 for national allegiances and name recognition engage in a stunning display of cognitive dissonance to believe that increased athletic competition necessitates a drop in academic standards. Stanford proves the fallacy in this argument.

In 2010, U.S. News and World Report has Stanford tied with Penn at #4 of top undergraduate institutions. The U.S. news rankings are garbage, but they do play a significant role in driving the public’s perceptions of quality. Stanford’s academics are impeccable. Its selectivity is identical to Penn’s, and it has a significantly lower acceptance rate. SAT percentiles are also comparable between the two schools.

Stanford ranks higher than four Ivy schools. Again, the U.S. news rankings are so stupid that interpreting a higher ranking as a mark of higher quality is absurd. But, the rankings are certainly evidence that the Ivy schools and Stanford are comparable in quality despite the fact that Stanford’s athletic program – supposedly a source of academic decline – is significantly better than those of the Ivies. Plus, you’ve never seen a shirt that says “Not Stanford State”.

Stanford proved that an elite academic institution can still have a I-A football team. No reason schools like Cornell and Columbia cannot follow suit.

4.

The greatest benefit from making the leap to competitive football does not come from excellence on the playing field. It comes from not being confused with Penn State ever again.

The Ivy League, as a brand, is most closely associated with Harvard, Princeton, and Yale. College application message boards on the internet regularly abbreviate the triumvirate as “HYP”, a set of initials with enough gravitas make any overachieving high schooler swoon. College application message boards, by the way, are a wonderful source of idiotic teen angst:

“PLZ HELP: Trying to decide between Yale and Harvard for early app. Does anyone know which is better?!?!?!”

“Re: Yea, H is better internationally but Y is better domestically and has better networking opps. Depends what you wanna do later on.”

The palpable obsession with status is embarrassing to read. I remember overhearing conversations in high school about relative prestige between schools – with the U.S. News rankings as the sole arbiter of the truth.

“Hmm…Georgetown? It’s pretty good, but it’s only #23, its not as good as Emory since its #17.”

Regardless, the point is that when you hear Penn or Cornell officials extol the virtues of an “Ivy League education”, they usually don’t realize that the connotation of quality comes solely from the vaunted HYP. Why? Because no one has ever heard of the other schools. In fact, “Ivy League”, linguistically, carries the connotation of “elite” and “intelligent” much like the way “Big 10” carries the connotation of “unathletic” and “Basketball Score: 43-37, Wisconsin”.

The simplest way to fix this is to embrace I-A college football. The non-HYP Ivy schools would see the biggest benefit. Though each has a strong reputation within elite circles, each remains anonymous to most of the country.

According to Forbes, Notre Dame’s football program brings in over $50 million annually in profits for the academic institution. Notre Dame has sucked for most of the last fifteen years. But, the national following it has means no one ever confuses it with the South Bend Technical Institute.

Think of it the differences between Syracuse and SUNY Purchase or Gonzaga and Fordham. Each pairing is between schools with comparable academics, yet only two of them are nationally known. Columbia, Penn, Cornell, Brown and Dartmouth can finally escape from under the HYP shadow.

5.

Obviously, I’m being selfish. Penn is a wonderful school that nobody has heard of and I want to see this sad fact changed. Plus, besides NSO, Halloween, and one weekend in April, there are very few moments on campus where the atmosphere is anything approaching a typical Saturday at a football powerhouse. I want to see 50,000 in Franklin Field on Saturdays, with festivities starting at 10:00 am. I want to see Brown or Dartmouth Football t-shirts across the Midwest. I want to see Fowler, Herbstreit, and Corso cover a Columbia-Cornell game with title implications. I want to see the next Toby Gerhardt anchoring the backfield in New Haven, and I want Boise State to bitch about the fact that it can’t jump Penn in the BCS standings. Ms. Harris, tear down this wall!

No Retreat, Baby Noooooovember.

Old video games used to have such limited memory capabilities that words like "points" or "yards" were always plural, leading to stat lines like "Hampton – 3 Carries, 1 Yds, 2 TDs" and "Van Horn – 1 Pts, 2 Socks". By the way, 2 Socks 1 Point was my favorite vulgar web video starring Keith Van Horn. But anyway, my clocking in with 1 overall columns for the month of November is inexcusable. I haven't had a winning November since 1996, but this is the kind of month that gets coaches fired. The highlight of my November was my first ever trip to Madison Square Garden to watch the Knicks take on the Celtics. Many ideas for a column came from this trip, but I never found the time to synthesize them into something readable. A brief synopsis:

• My friend Dan and I made the trip up to New York on one of those cheap buses that provides both cheap transportation for college students and affordable money laundering services for organized criminal syndicates. Thanks again to Fat Tony's Green Lucky Dragon Star Bus Co. for the $20 round trip Philly-NY bus line.
  
• We saw a comedy show at the Upright Citizens Brigade theater and it was fantastic. The tall bald guy from 30 Rock, Erin from The Office, and that annoying guy from NFL Live are all performers there. Most sketches started out slowly, then the entertainers settled into a rhythm, and then you just got to run the football coach, you just got to.
  
• Knicks fans are awesome even when their team and their franchise are not. Fans at most stadiums around the country beg for obvious fouls like blocking or holding, but the savvy connoisseurs at the Garden were yelling things like "Defensive 3 seconds!" and the like. Personally, I was spiked out so I spent most of my time trying to trip referees.
  
• Spike Lee, Will Ferrell, Mark Wahlberg, and Anthony Anderson were all in attendance.
  
• Impossible to get NFL updates on my phone during the basketball game. The game took place on a Sunday and Dallas was facing Washington in a key divisional game. Thankfully, Shaun Suisham missed 13 consecutive field goals in the second half, which allowed the Cowboys to escape with the win.
  

One final note about November: a big thank you to everyone who refused to shave during the month for charity, except ladies. You guys are the real heroes out there.

Once More Unto the Breach

I hate the direction in which my beloved National Football League is going. There is no respect for tradition or continuity in any aspect of the sport. Decades of history are tossed aside to make way for pathetic manufactured nostalgia. “Welcome to the Lucas Oil Field Hall of Memories!” Several franchises have chosen to corrupt their uniforms by making them more “fierce” or “futuristic” – which usually means adding in chrome colors and bizarre streaks. The Buffalo Bills and Minnesota Vikings once dressed like actual football teams; they now dress like characters from Tron. The season will soon expand to eighteen games, rendering every performance record since 1978 meaningless. Canada will have a franchise within ten years and London will host a Super Bowl by 2025. I am a 75-year old trapped in a 20-year old’s body.

But, I spend every Sunday watching, every Monday reading, and every Tuesday waiting for the next Sunday. NFL Previews are completely worthless, but since nobody else on the internet seems willing to publish one, I guess I’m just going to have to do it myself.

AFC East:

1. New England Patriots (18-1)*: The big man rejoins the band. As long as Bill Bellichick’s aging defense and second family don’t mess things up too much, the Pats are going to be the league’s best again.

2. New York Jets (7-9): Mark Sanchez, who looks exactly like Vinny Chase, will take Queens Boulevard by storm. Too bad Adrian Murrell didn’t make the team though, I thought he could have contributed this year.

3. Buffalo Bills (0-14-2): I will always hate the Bills until they apologize to Doug Flutie and bring back the uniforms from the Pete Metzelaars era. When the Toronto Bills square off against the Upper Saxony Raiders in five years, I will cry.

4. Miami Dolphins (0-14-2): Tony Sparano’s new defensive coordinator, Phil Leotrado, seems kind of likely to either successfully implement a zone blitz or have his skull crushed by an Escalade at a gas station. Either way though, they’ll probably bounce back in 2010, just in time for Chad Pennington to win an unprecedented seventh Comeback Player of the Year Award.

AFC North:

1. Pittsburgh Steelers (12-4): A great team from a tough, blue collar town based mainly on service jobs and Carnegie Mellon. I think Mike Tomlin is one of the best coaches in the league. But, if the Steelers’ season is anything like an episode of House, then the backup punter will have a disease where his kidneys start donkey punching his lungs, but then his mysterious past is unraveled and it turns out that it was actually asbestos all along. Then, Ben Roethlisberger will say something that reminds us he’s emotionally tortured but tirelessly brilliant with a lovably gruff exterior. I like Linus Sweed, what with his generous social programs and delicious candied fish, but I don’t think he’s going to be enough to get past the Patriots in the playoffs.

2. Baltimore Ravens (11-5): Leaving and Joe Flacco are everybody’s favorite aspects of Delaware. If Rex Ryan hadn’t gone to the Jets, or if Pittsburgh had lost anybody relevant, I’d pick Baltimore to win the division. Ray Rice and my mom are Rutgers’ greatest alumni; look for both to have strong seasons.

3. Cleveland Browns (6-10): I spent many Friday nights in high school watching reruns of an NFL Films documentary about the ’86 AFC Championship game, so I will always have a soft spot for the franchise that once represented my social life. Eric Mangini will turn things around by year three despite the fact that he is a giant snitch.

4. Cincinatti Bengals (4-12): Poor Carson Palmer. He came within three non-torn ligaments – widely considered the best kind of ligaments – of reviving a franchise. At least he remains in the pantheon of quarterbacks whose Madden ratings are far higher than what they should be. This pantheon includes Seneca Wallace and Drew Henson, both of whom have quarterbacked my simulated franchises to 19-0 championship seasons. I really hope some devious software engineer at EA makes it possible for the game to randomly generate a player named Ron Mexico in the 2015 draft, because once I figured out that the name generator is just “medium-sized Jersey town” and “common last name”, it became way less fun to draft Secaucus Jones, Brunswick Williams and West Orange Thompson.

AFC South:

1. Houston Texans (11-5): This team scored only eleven fewer points than the Colts last year and lost a ton of close games. Great skill players, and Mario Williams turned out to be better than Reggie Bush (though not yet better than John David Booty).

2. Indianapolis Colts (10-6): My Facebook profile info is filled entirely with quotes from those classic Peyton commercials. It dawned on me that those quotes are now four years old. Four! Still hilarious though. Cut that meat! Cut that meat!

3. Tennessee Titans (7-9): Tennessee’s last effort, a playoff loss to the Ravens, seemed more like slapstick comedy than an effort to win a football game. Comically tragic injuries, multiple turnovers inside the Ravens’ red zone, and Jeff Fisher’s getting hit in the face with a pie all contributed to a terrible loss. Surprisingly, this franchise has had its share of tough playoff losses. In 2000, the top-seeded Titans also lost a slugfest they should have won. In 1999, they came up one yard short of forcing overtime at the Super Bowl, and in 1992, they allowed Frank Reich to lead a 32-point comeback. For 2009 though, I think the general lack of talent on offense and defense and special teams is ultimately going to be the Achilles heel.

4. Jacksonville Jaguars (6-10): There is no possible way to write an interesting leadoff sentence for the most boring, and worst dressed, team in the league. Though in terms of leadoff sentences, I will never forget the time Brady Anderson somehow crammed 50 prepositions into one phrase.

AFC West:

1. San Diego Chargers (11-5): It’s surprising how subtly this team has gone from centering around LaDanian Tomlinson to centering around Phillip Rivers. Rivers is a top-five quarterback now, but I am sad to see that his feud with Jay Cutler ended about ten years before it should have. I have a soft spot for San Diego for two reasons. First, they have become the Phoenix Suns of the NFL – a generally likable and supremely talented team that has heartbreaking playoff losses. Second, and more importantly, in an era where idiot marketing executives decide to try to make every uniform look like a cross between testosterone and the year 2350, the Chargers’ design crew decided to bring back those gorgeous powder blue jerseys. San Dieeego Super Chaaaaargers.

2. Kansas City Chiefs (10-6): I believe that Kansas City can go 5-1 within the division, even stealing one from the Chargers since San Diego seems to fall asleep for long stretches at a time during the year. Moreover, it’s a blessing in disguise that Matt Cassell is going to miss the first game since the Chiefs will be making a brutal trip to Baltimore. An energetic, young coach combined with a talented quarterback should be good enough to sneak into the playoffs in this terrible division.

3. Denver Broncos (5-11): Getting rid of the productivity of Mike Shanahan, Jay Cutler and Brandon Marshall was probably the right thing to do, but I think they should have also traded John Elway’s legacy and the town of Aspen just to make sure they were fully cleaning house. When Mike Shanahan wins the NFC for Jerry Jones next year, I will be thanking Pat Bowlen.

4. Oakland Raiders (2-14): People have been unfair to JaMarcus Russell. He has an excellent skill set and makes as many plays as he can given the talent level and coaching staff around him. The Raiders made a great call drafting him based on the scouting combine, especially since their offense mostly consists of Russell on his knees throwing through the goal posts from midfield.

NFC East:

1. Philadelphia Eagles (16-0): Every time I think they’re dead, they rise just to ruin the Cowboys’ season. I can think of no team I hate more than the Eagles. Donovan McNabb remains underrated, and the defense should be good enough to let the explosive offense win games. A quick story about how much I hate the Eagles: My friend and I gathered last year to watch the Week 17 slate of games. We dubbed it Apocalypse Sunday since his Broncos and my Cowboys both had to win road games against bitter division rivals to avoid completing massive collapses and to clinch playoff spots. Dallas lost by a final score of 3,444-0.

2. New York Giants (10-6): If they had signed a wide receiver, they would be the best team in the conference. Regrettably, they chose to go with a collection of punt returners and sixth graders. Eli Manning is now at number four in my Manning Power Rankings, as he finds himself sandwiched behind Cooper and ahead of Olivia.

3. Washington Redskins (8-8): I have spent many late August weekends in Maryland visiting my cousins, and I have seen my share of Redskins preseason games. So when I tell you that John Riggins came on the Papa Johns Deep Dish Quick Minute and told me that Ladell Betts is poised for a breakout year, I think I know what I’m talking about. As always, the Redskins will start out 6-2 and finish 8-8.

4. Dallas Cowboys (0-16): I don’t want to talk about it.

NFC North:

1. Green Bay Packers (13-3): I watched nearly every quarter of nearly every preseason game on NFL Network reruns this August. I know that preseason doesn’t mean much, and that Detroit went undefeated in last year’s, but no group in the entire NFL looked sharper than Green Bay’s first team. I would trade Adrian Peterson straight up for Aaron Rodgers right now. The Packers actually made a mistake and went with Rodgers one season too late – they would have won the NFC had they started Rodgers instead of Favre during Brett’s last year. Rodgers inherited a 14-point deficit on the road against Dallas from an injured Favre that year and nearly rallied the team for a victory. Last year, he had more yards and more touchdowns than both Peyton Manning and Dan Orlovsky, though Orlovsky did set a precedent by “runslinging” out of the back of his own end zone.

2. Chicago Bears (11-5): Jay Cutler is the heir to the gunslinging throne, though I now fear that by the time Favre actually retires, Cutler will be 39 years old and playing for Detroit.

3. Minnesota Vikings (8-8): Honestly, after studying the preseason, Tarvaris Jackson is a better fit for this offense than Favre is. The Vikings have an awful back-to-back sequence against Pittsburgh and Baltimore, so if Favre’s health falters and Jackson steps in, it will actually be a good thing. I hope to see some vintage Favre gunslings, though he’s probably tired from insulting Robert La Follette, cheese, and 1996 Brett Favre.

4. Detroit Lions (4-12): Stafford is also another young gun, making this quartet the All-Gunslinger Division. Another reason to hate the NFL: After milking the taxpayers of Michigan for several hundred million dollars to build Ford Field, Lions games will likely be blacked out on local television this year since the economically ravaged population cannot afford to purchase enough tickets to avoid triggering the clause. Let them eat cake, right Roger?

NFC South:

1. New Orleans Saints (12-4): Drew Brees’s mole will have its hairiest year yet as the league’s third best quarterback finally gets back to the playoffs. The Parcells tree of coaching – Bellichick, Sparano, Sean Payton – is better than the Bellichick tree of coaching, which is Crennel, Weis, and McDaniels. But do the trees overlap because of Bellichick? I don’t know. But if so, don’t all coaches just descend from the same person? Or, where they intelligently designed in their current form? We may never know, though my guess is that Tom Cable pretty much disproves intelligent design. Gunslinging design, maybe.

2. Atlanta Falcons (10-6): Arthur Blank is the proud owner of Home Despot, a store that disgustingly sells do-it-yourself kits to some of the most oppressive dictators this planet has ever seen. Luckily, he has a solid coach and a talented quarterback. Atlanta’s modus operandi is to go out there and out-execute other teams, and to win games 23-16. I just cannot support that level of game management.

3. Carolina Panthers (8-8): Jake Delhomme’s 2008 playoff performance reminds me of Shane Falco in the ’96 Sugar Bowl. Too bad there is no Senior NFL where Delhomme could cross a picket line and win a key game on a tight end flag to the corner of the end zone. Do you want the ball, Jake? Winners always do.

4. Tampa Bay Buccaneers (4-12): I wish they had drafted Morgan Freeman instead of Josh Freeman. The sisters never laid a finger on Andy again, and Derek Brooks was unceremoniously cut.

NFC West:

1. Arizona Cardinals (10-6): I think Kurt Warner can still play at a high level, and that Steve Breaston is more relevant than Anquan Boldin to the offense. Ken Whisenhunt is a creative, crafty coach who should figure out how to win a terrible division. They have a gorgeous home in the University of Phoenix Online Stadium, but I wish it was Devry Field so that I could get my own personalized degree while watching the game.

2. Seattle Seahawks (8-8): Everyone’s old. The Seahawks, to my recollection, kicked off the recent trend of having shiny chrome uniforms when they ditched their wonderful old-school jerseys and silver helmets. As such, I am obligated to root against them until they go back to the jerseys that made once made Rick Mirer the symbol of virility in the upper northwest.

3. San Francisco 49ers (8-8): I thought this team could have been good this year, since they finished strong and played hard for a coach that has trouble keeping his pants on. I still have them at 8-8, but the lack of a quarterback is kind of a dagger. I love that old episode of The Simpsons where those punks from Shelbyville steal Michael Crabtree and then Homer borrows Ned’s RV to get it back. I did a decent amount of research, and I can’t tell if the 49ers new uniforms are a throwback to the Joe Montana era or just a stupid redesign. If it’s the latter, I revise my prediction to 0-16.

4. St. Louis Rams (3-13): Their running back is a tough, solid player whose best days are behind him. So it goes for Steven “Old Hickory” Jackson. It’s going to be really awkward when the Rams acquire that other guy named Marc Bulger, forcing one of them to go as Marc E. Bulger. I wish they hadn’t hired Steve Spagnuolo just because St. Louis should always be home to the Greatest Show on Turf. Watching them grind out 14-10 victories is going to be painful.

I like New England, Pittsburgh, Houston, San Diego, Baltimore, and Kansas City out of the AFC and Philadelphia, Green Bay, New Orleans, Arizona, Chicago, and New York out of the NFC. Actually, Dallas might make the playoffs with an 0-16 record just to lose one more time make me cry again. I won’t pull a Peter King – whose writing I enjoy thoroughly – and predict things like “expect the Bears to edge the Cardinals 24-19 on a 34 degree day in the Windy City as Jay Cutler throws for 238 yards.” Well, now I’m expecting it, Peter! Thanks for ruining the ending.

I think the final four will be Green Bay, Philadelphia, New England, and Baltimore. The most likely Super Bowl is New England versus Philadelphia, but that’s more of a game manager type of prediction. I’ll take Green Bay over Baltimore, 34-20, on a 71 degree day in Miami, as Aaron Rodgers throws for 238 yards.