I was half-tempted to post a “final thoughts” type blog about the Super Bowl on Saturday because I presumed that the Patriots would hold up their end of the bargain. But, between catching the flu and the 5% of my brain that said, “You hate it when sports-yak types pontificate about things that have not happened yet,” I decided to hold off. Either three things were going to happen: the Pats would blow out the Giants, the Pats would narrowly defeat the Giants, or the Giants would win (the margin of victory wasn’t contextually relative). And I realized that each of those three outcomes would directly affect the legacy of the Belichick/Brady era Patriots.
So, to help define what this Super Bowl defeat means in terms of the Patriots’ legacy I will enlist the help of Mark Twain. Additionally, Twain’s quotes will help me to put an end to the 2007-08 NFL season as well as putting into perspective the 2008 NFL Hall of Fame inductees that were announced during Super Bowl weekend.
“Classic. A book which people praise and don’t read.”
To Bill Belichick and the entire New England Patriots coaching staff, who collectively forgot how they were able to win Super Bowl XXXVI. Going into SB XXXVI, the heavily favored Rams were a pass-wacky team led by a coach (Mike Martz) who arrogantly believed he could pass, pass, pass all day long on the Pats and almost completely abandoned the running game. Fast forward to last night: Belichick apparently thought he could pass, pass, pass all day long on the Giants and almost completely abandoned the running game. Really, the trips bunch and 5-receiver shotgun formations were always necessary? You couldn’t have mixed in some 3 tight end and fullback formations? You’re sure about this?
“Buy land, they’re not making it anymore.”
To the ’70′s Steelers (won 4 Super Bowls in 6 years) and the ’90′s Cowboys (who won 3 in 4 years)—alright, we get it, we get it. We shouldn’t be talking about dynasties any more. If the Pats had won, the dynasty talk would’ve been justified. Now? I think we can shelve all dynasty talk as it pertains to the NFL indefinitely.
“A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way.”
To Giants defensive coordinator Steve Spagnuolo, who never deviated from his blitz-first scheme despite the fact that his secondary was thin and far from great (how Belichickian!). The fact that the Giants defense didn’t cave in and made the New England offensive line look human was the key to the game. The Giants defensive line should have split the MVP four ways.
“Climate is what we expect, weather is what we get.”
To the people who picked the Pats to win the Super Bowl (myself included), blissfully ignoring the fact that no QB who has won the regular season passing title has gone on to win a Super Bowl. That’s right—it’s Super Bowl 42, Passing Leaders 0. And counting.
“Whenever you find yourself on the side of the majority, it is time to pause and reflect.”
Again, to all of us who picked the Pats. Imbalanced majorities are rarely a good thing when it comes to politics, society, and life in general. Watching the game unfold and the brazen arrogance that seemed palpable in New England’s offensive play calling, I couldn’t help but think aloud that Brady and Belichick actually felt entitled to win this game. Like, even if they turned the ball over, they would just be able to flip a switch and score 14 points in 3 minutes. Didn’t happen. And I actually got the feeling that they themselves might have actually got caught up in their own greatness.
“It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”
To the Giants as a team. Yes, it’s a cliché quote and, yes, it even seems tacky to use it here but then again: what better quote to use in describing this team than a cliche? Even a Hollywood movie that scripted this exact outcome would have seemed contrived and vomit-inducing. Yet, they won so it is a cliche that will be used.
“Facts are stubborn, but statistics are more pliable.”
To all of the sports writers, sports bloggers, sports TV analysts, and all of the other yahoos that make up the armada of sports nuts who use numbers to calculate and predict everything. Honestly, who would have ever thought that the NFL and MLB would become so entwined with metrics, accounting practices, and economic theory to arrive at a statistical indicators? Think I’m making this up? Go here and take a gander at how the DVOA is arrived at. This has become par for the course as one of the writers over at footballoutsiders.com, Aaron Schatz, also writes at slate.com and espn.com. To be sure, there is some interesting stuff here but it’s a game. The statistics, the metrics, and the Fantasy League mentality of the NFL is starting to become bloated and, more importantly, a possible indicator of future declining fan interest (how ironic would that be?). Think about it: what will happen when all of the people who watch the NFL more for fantasy and metrics-gathering purposes get bored or move on to another sport? I don’t know what will ultimately lead to the NFL’s demise, whether it be the NFL Network debacle or a lack of star power like with the NBA, but all of this numbers-running seems to only serve gamblers and fantasy owners (who are also driven by monetary gains if they place first in their league) and when the league itself condones it (the NFL mandates that teams disclose all injuries by Thursday of each week, which is a measure that only benefits gamblers and fantasy league members) you have to wonder if catering to gamblers is a good, long-term foundation. To be sure, pro and college football has always been a fertile ground for gambling but this new fascination with numbers and metrics has bred a newer breed of gambler—one that the league will benefit from in the short-term but that’s it.
“Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.”
To the members of the NFL Hall of Fame, who could just as easily substitute “member of Congress” with “member of the HOF selection committee.” It is beyond ridiculous that Art Monk had to wait this long to be enshrined in Canton, Ohio. Monk, one of the league’s quietest players, was also one of the best wide receivers of the ’80′s and was integral to all of the Redskins Super Bowl appearances throughout that decade. If Monk had been more boisterous in public and had the benefit of life without Jerry Rice he’d probably be considered one of the greatest WR’s in the game. Instead, he had to wait because of some arbritary reason like “he wasn’t a deep threat” and “his yards after catch average wasn’t stellar.” Whatever. People talk all the time about how Marvin Harrison is a first-ballot Hall of Famer who just quietly plays and does his job. Well, Monk was the original Marvin Harrison—both played at Syracuse and both quietly destoryed secondaries.
“The more you explain it, the more I don’t understand it.”
To the Hall of Fame selection committee again who have decided that Paul Tagliabue—lead council for the NFL under Pete Rozelle, the commissioner who steered the NFL into the TV and Internet powerhouse that it is, the guy who had to juggle the Players Union while dealing with egomaniac owners like Jerry Jones and did so with apparent ease, the guy who helped the NFL overthrow MLB and the NBA, and the guy who oversaw an expansion of teams that actually worked—shall not gain entry into the Hall of Fame. Tagliabue shouldn’t be denied enshrinement simply because he is not Pete Rozelle.
“Biographies are but the clothes and buttons of the man. The biography of the man himself cannot be written.”
To Darrell Green, who deserved every bit of his first ballot enshrinement into Canton, Ohio. Green played all twenty seasons of his career for the Washington Redskins and was enormously invested in charity work throughout the D.C. area. Darrell Green was an amazingly gifted cornerback who nicknamed himself the “itty bitty guy” because he only stood a mere 5′ 9″ but his speed was unparalleled and his work ethic was extraordinary. If you find yourself wondering why grown men care so much about sports or why athletes can sometimes be assimilated to a fan base or the city in which they play, then mark your calendar for the Hall of Fame induction ceremony and watch Darrell Green’s induction speech as I suspect it will be filled with genuine emotion, enough to make grown men cry.
“Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint.”
To the other 31 NFL teams who will invariably try to duplicate the New York Giants defensive line by drafting or overpaying for hybrid defensive tackle/defensive ends. Are these Giants defensive linemen the future? Probably, yes. In a traditional defensive, you have two fast defensive ends to equalize the pass and two stout (and consequently slower) defensive tackles to equalize the run and to command double-teams. What the Giants did was build a line of four guys who were fast, could command double-teams, and equalize the pass and run. Teams will no doubt try to emulate this as the NFL is very much a copy-cat league. But teams beware! Instead of trying to emulate the defense maybe you should build on your offensive line and tight ends to stay one step ahead of the curve? After all, new offensive blocking schemes are easier to implement than overpaying for free agent hybrid linemen. Hybrid defensive linemen are a luxury most teams would kill for but, like Mike Martz’s and Don Coryell’s wacky pass schemes, the rest of the league will catch up to it before the league can catch up to all-out great offensive line schemes.
“But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?”
To all of the haters who will inevitably come out of the woodwork in the following weeks to bash Bill Belichick as a heartless maniac who is past his prime (nevermind the fact that if the Pats had won, these same people would’ve written Belichick’s HOF enshrinement speech for free). Belichick is not Satan (Spygate or leaving the field early included)—he’s a guy that is insulated in the football world and he doesn’t care about you. Mitt Romney, Hillary Clinton, John McCain, and Barack Obama don’t care about you either. Get over it and yourself.
“Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.”
Finally, this one goes to the Legacy Historians. If the Pats had won the Super Bowl (especially if it were in convincing fashion) Tom Brady and Bill Belichick’s legacy would have surpassed Joe Montana and Bill Walsh’s (even if they were to never have won a postseason game again). What Super Bowl XLII really proved was this: this Patriots team can only be considered really good and not great. I always gave the Pats a pass for their first 3 Super Bowl victories being so close (all 3 of them were won by 3 points) and that mainly had to do with Brady not having a deep threat, or an above average ground game; basically, I thought they won because of his greatness and that if he were ever surrounded by truly great talent it would be a cakewalk for him. Well, this year he got a healthy Randy Moss, Wes Welker, Dante Stallworth, and Laurence Maroney and was not unable to pick apart the Giants defense. I don’t mean to take anything away from the Giants but the fact of the matter is Joe Montana would not have lost that game and Bill Walsh wouldn’t have allowed Josh McDaniels to keep calling pass, pass, pass when run, run, run with jumbo sets would’ve been just what the doctor ordered. Brady and Belichick may win another Super Bowl (though time is running out) but they can never be considered in the same class as Montana and Walsh. And whether you’re a Revisionist Legacy Historian or a Real-Time Legacy Historian you cannot argue with that. Brady and Belichick’s legacy took a hit last night. They were not only exposed as human but were also denied entrance to the highest ring of greatness. But who knows, maybe that will make them more human to us (and, thus, more likable) in the future? For now, though, the debate has been settled: Montana is still the greatest QB and Walsh is still the greatest coach.