Sunday, September 19, 2004

 

Sports Suck.

Well, okay, there was one piece of good-- no, great sports news today: Bears 21, Packers 10. All I can say about this Bears win, the first in the previous nine matchups, is: finally.

Other than that, yeesh. Just a dismal weekend.

Redskins committed seven turnovers.

Go back up there, read that sentence again: seven turnovers.

Needless to say, they lost to the Giants, and deservedly so, 20 to 16.

The Skins made Kurt Warner look like he was a real quarterback in charge of a real team again, and not just a third-rate NFL Europe cast-off playing for Der Fuhrercoachen Tom Coughlin. I've been pulling for Kurt Warner to win again, to recapture that magic, if only because I like underdogs, and anything that keeps Eli Manning on the sidelines until The Bachelor Season 7 asks him to guest star can't be all that bad.

But c'mon, I didn't want Warner to win *today*. . . sheesh.

Now, it's a little hard to gauge the Skins performance in comparison with last week's win over Tampa Bay. The defense played decently, if nowhere near as aggressively as last week. The offense, however, dramatically regressed. They didn't stick with the rush, and the line couldn't keep Mark Brunell safe in the pocket. Hell, a brick wall couldn't keep Brunell safe in the pocket long enough to throw downfield. Eventually, the beatings hurt, and he left the game with an obviously incapacitating hamstring injury (unlike Oscar De La Hoya, who left his bout last night with a case of the sniffles).

Then came the six words no Redskins fan wants to hear: Patrick Ramsey has entered the game.

Now, Patrick Ramsey is a likeable fellow. He's got guts-- all last season he stood (and stood, and stood) tough behind the line, getting sacked more often than Billy Martin. However, while getting the living shit beat out of you may win you the adulation of millions of Christians, it ain't gonna win football games. Seriously, Ramsey says the Hail Mary more often than he throws it. So, it was pretty much a lock that the Redskins were going to lose once Ramsey came in.


I wonder if the J-Man calls the play "Hail Mom"?

You know who Patrick Ramsey reminds me of? The Calumet Kid, former Chicago Bears (and later Packers/Steelers/Costco Intramural) quarterback Mike Tomczak. One, they look a bit alike. Two, their stats are similar-- Ramsey's got a better rating today than Tomczak had at the same point in his career, but he also has better receivers.

However, the stats don't tell the real reason why I notice a similarity: for every good performance each delivered, there's also a bad one, and worst of all, they each have a knack for throwing away the ball at the most frustrating times. Hell, I remember referring to Mike "Turnover" Tomczak, joking that he should've been named the Bears' starting punter. Ramsey's never been quite that bad, but another season of getting hammered behind the line, and he may end up throwing the ball to opposing teams purely out of self-defense.

Anyways, the other bad sports news today: Yankees 11, Red Sox 1. Combined with yesterday's loss, the BoSox are now 4 1/2 games behind the Yankees. Sure, they're still five games ahead of Anaheim in the wildcard, but losing a series in New York won't be a confidence builder if/when Boston meets the Yankees there again in the playoffs.

Oh, and America lost the Ryder Cup by a score of 1403 to 6.

What the hell happened to Tiger? Once on top of the world, now he's a punchline. It's amazing how he's now the guy you *don't* want on your team, knowing he'll just bring you down in the clutch. Of course, he has long since entered official underdog territory, so I'll be cheering him on to regain his game.

That said, I wonder if it wouldn't be better for Tiger's game to just take some time off. He's obviously distracted by something, either by the crappy Nike equipment his sponsors make him use, by the ridiculous pressure to win every time he steps on the course, or by his hot Swedish girlfriend. Knowing that he's got to plan a career, and not just a season, Tiger might be helped by just vegging for a while. Kick back, blow some cash, invite Ricky Williams over for some Madden on the couch, whatever. Just get outta the limelight awhile, take some of the performance pressure off. Tiger can play the pro tour for another thirty years; he should pace himself before he frustrates himself into oblivion.

Argghh. What a crappy Sunday. At least it's beautiful outside-- the perfect day. Clear blue skies, cool crisp air. And I spent it all inside watching football. Ain't life grand?

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