Your 2010 Super Bowl Party Guide
As I stated in a previous post (can't remember which one), I steer away from watching sports at bars or parties. I do this because I have a hard time watching them with faux fans and their newly purchased jerseys. "Posers" if you will. Call it anti-social if you'd like, I call it stress reducing.
Anyway, many of you have been or will be invited to a Super Bowl party for this Sunday. One of your friends will open his house to 20 to 30 quasi-acquaintances and let them use his bathroom, watch his new HD television and get queso dip stains on his couch. It's my job to provide you with tips to ensure the most optimal viewing experience.
Find the real fans. I'm assuming you'll know at least 70% of the party-goers so you'll have a easy job filtering out who exactly knows what's going on during the game. There is nothing worse than accidentally getting into a conversation with someone who either knows nothing about the game or pretends to know. You'll either be inundated with questions about the two-minute warning, the challenge rules, and chop blocks or you'll be constantly correcting the guy who makes false blanket statements about Peyton Manning or the NFL in general. It's usually fun to be smarter than someone, but in this case it's just annoying. So find a few guys/girls who are legitimately knowledgeable about football and position yourself near them.
Eat lightly (early on). Like every Super Bowl party, there is about 900 different choices of food to snack on. "Oh look, someone brought a spinach dip in a loaf of sourdough bread!" With the amount of chips, pretzels, breads, meats, and cheeses, it's easy to get ahead of yourself and before you know it, you're stuffed even before kickoff. The key is to snack lightly early on before the game and into the first half. Also, the big stuff (meats and the like) doesn't usually hit the table until midway through the second quarter. Then, after absorbing the equivalent of a horse's salt-lick in chips, you can partake in the fabulous brisket, or whatever. Like a marathon runner, it's all about pacing yourself. Don't go sprinting out of the gate. Cramps will ensue. And also like a marathon runner, your bowels will evacuate toward the finish line.
Locate the second bathroom. You know as well as I do that as soon as the host lets in the guests, there will be a line for the bathroom until the game ends. So it's key to snoop around for a while before getting settled and look for the second bathroom. If you know the host well, it won't be awkward to approach them about it. But if your at a friend of a friend's house, make sure you tread quietly while searching for that magic second toilet. It's usually on a different floor or near a kid's bedroom, so "stealth" is the optimal word. You'll be grateful you did this during halftime when the line for the primary bathroom stretches out to the neighbor's house.
If you put money on the game, don't let anyone know. Well, of course you put money on the game. But it's important that you tell no one who you bet on or how much. You don't want to look like the degenerate gambler you ends up throwing the remote at the cat when the Saints cover on a meaningless touchdown. Likewise, if you told someone you bet on the Saints and they end up losing, you'll be ridiculed all night for being stupid. Avoid letting anyone know where your gambling loyalties lie. It never ends well.
Well that's it. I'm sure I've forgot dozens of things, but I'm too lazy to think any harder. The main thing is to enjoy yourself. It's a party! There's food, football, and friends. Can't argue with that.
Sunday! Sunday! Sunday!
Because of my borderline obsession with all things sports, I have a very different viewing experience than many others who watch them on a casual level. Usually, people will head on over to a sports bar or a friends house to watch the big game. They chat, eat delicious food, and half-watch will mingling with everyone else. It's a lovely time. These people demonstrate a healthy relationship with something they enjoy. And these people will be showcasing their healthy relationship with sports this Sunday as they head on over to the sports bars and friends houses to watch the AFC and NFC Championships.
Not me.
If you'd like to reach me between the hours of 3:00pm and 10:00pm this Sunday, I'll be in my dark basement, seven feet from my television, sweating, yelling, and possibly crying all by myself as I suffer through the championship games. More importantly, the AFC Championship game between the Colts and Jets of which I have vested interest as you know.
I can't watch mid-summer baseball games with casual fans, let alone games of importance. Actually, casual fans are alright. At least the ones who admit their ignorance. And die-hard fans can empathize with me here when I say that there is nothing worse than watching a game with someone who pretends to know what they're talking about.
"That Peyton Manning has got like 3 or 4 Super Bowls"
"Jets are probably happy Mark Sanchez left Florida"
"I've been the biggest Jets fan forever"
No! No you haven't! Not ever! That Mark Sanchez jersey you're wearing was purchased a few days ago! You didn't even take off the tag!
I know I sound like a whiny, know-it-all sports fan, but I earned it to behave this way. I may not be old enough to have appreciated how terrible the Jets were during the Lou Holtz, Joe Walton, Pete Carroll, Rich Kotite, and Al Groh eras, but I've suffered enough. I have a full emotional stake in this team. It's as if the Yankees fielded a football team. I've rooted for this team for as long as I understood the rules (still learning actually). And I was lucky enough to attend the final game at the Meadowlands. A game which secured the Jets spot in the playoffs.
Cue win against the Bengals.
Cue win against the Chargers
And now we're here. And by "we" I mean real Jets fans. Not the ones who suddenly can't think of the Jets head coach's name. Or the ones who look to everyone else to know when to cheer. Those people are the reason why I watch games by myself. Because I can't keep constantly correcting your false statements, or fighting back scowls as you say "We did it!" I'd rather make a big bowl of chili, sit on my couch, and watch the game in my dark basement with my dad.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Anywho, I've resisted the urge to make predictions in the past because well, they're pointless. Especially from me. Because 90% of the time, I have no idea who's going to win. And that's what makes sports great. Unpredictability. Just ask George Mason, the 1980 U.S. Hockey team, Villanova, 1969 Jets, and the Marlins (not the professional team, my little league team that came out of nowhere to beat the heavily favored Athletics in the 1998 Nanuet Little League Championship).
Honestly, I didn't think the Jets would beat the Bengals or the Chargers. I thought Sanchez would make a few mistakes that would ultimately cost them. Excluding the pick he threw last Sunday, he has yet to do so. They've stuck to what they do best: run. Thomas Jones and Shonn Greene pounded the defensive line of Cincinnati and San Diego into submission. And I expect them to do the same against the Colts who are ranked 32nd against the run. They will do their best to keep the ball out of Sanchez's hands and on the ground.
Obviously, the key to this game will be Peyton Manning. In fact, any game he is in, he is the key. Arguably the greatest quarterback who has ever lived and smarter than any coach on the sideline (except Rex. Wink). We all know the Jets will blitz hard more than 50% of the time, but Manning is better against the blitz than anyone in the sport. He targets his receivers quickly and releases before pass rushers have a chance to get to him. That's why the Colts have only given up 10 sacks this season. In short: he's the exact opposite of Curtis Painter.
So if the Jets want to win this Sunday, they'll have to do exactly what they did against the Bengals and Chargers. Hang in long enough until the running attack starts racking up yards. If you don't remember, the Jets fell behind to both teams early and continued to run the ball even when it showed no effectiveness. Eventually, cracks started to appear in the defense and Shonn Greene found them.
Over the past week I've been saying to everyone, "Right now, It's all gravy". As in, "I'm happy with what the Jets have accomplished this season, I'll be content regardless of the outcome". Which is an outright lie. True, it's fantastic that they have made it this far with a rookie head coach, a rookie quarterback, and a rookie running back. It would seem they have many years of success ahead of them. But it's not guaranteed. Shonn Greene can tear his ACL. Mark Sanchez can turn into JaMarcus Russell. And Rex Ryan could suffer an enormous heart attack (a legitimate possibility). And while I pray to God these things don't happen, it still illustrates my point. We only have the here and now. Nothing is promised. Remarkably, they are here now. God I hope they win.
And there is some NFC Championship game going on afterwards. My interest in that game will obviously hinge on whether the Jets win or not. Prediction for that game: Saints win and Brett Favre throws a pick to seal it in the fourth quarter. Write it down!
Wide Left! It’s Short! Wide Right!
Shayne Graham and Nate Kaeding have a lot in common. Good times for us Jet fans.
The Last Day at the Meadowlands
I never did the tail-gating thing. Personally, I like showing up ten minutes before the game starts, finding my seat, watching the game, then leaving when it ends.
But yesterday, I was offered the opportunity to tail-gate prior to the Jets-Bengals with my friend's family. I had to say yes. So much was at stake. Not only was there a "win and they're in" scenario for the Jets, it was the last game at the Meadowlands. The game had been flexed by NBC so the kick-off was scheduled for 8:30. I expected to head on down to the stadium around 6:00, get there by 6:30, and tail-gate for two hours.
I was wrong.
I got a text from my friend Sunday morning telling me to be at his house by 2:50. Apparently the gates open for tail-gaters at 3:30 and they wanted to set up as soon as possible as to get a good spot. So I'm looking at a full five hours of gating tail even before entering the stadium. Five hours in the cold, smelly air of the Meadowlands.
I knew it was going to be cold, just not THAT cold. But I did make the appropriate accommodations anyway. Four pairs of socks. Two pairs of sweatpants underneath my jeans. Two pairs of gloves. And many many layers of shirts, sweatshirts and jackets under my #83 Santana Moss jersey (#83 is now Danny Woodhead, the Wes Welker of the Jets). I also had a thermos full of hot cocoa (such a badass). At this point, I was fairly confident I could survive even if I was encased in a glacier.
And then I got out of the car and icicles immediately formed on my nipples. It was as if the sun was just for show. It wouldn't have been as bad if the wind wasn't so ferocious either. Because there is nothing worse than an unrelenting stream of freezing wind trying to weather your face off. With these conditions, and the forecast saying it was due to get worse, my courage hung by a thread.
What I didn't take into account was that I was tailgating with professionals. Literally, most of these guys are retired and basically do this for a living. So about 30 seconds after a get out of the car, there is an enormous tent set up and the grills have been lit. It was like watching a NASCAR pit crew change four tires. Very impressive.
But my faith had yet to be restored seeing as I had yet to find a remedy for my frozen ass. Until I stepped foot inside the tent and I was hit with a wave of heat. Someone had brought a gas space heater that used 80,000 BTU's (which I'm told is good) and in less than ten minutes the tent turned into a sauna. It was warmer than my house. There were times I had to step outside to cool off.
And did I mention that they had an HD television perched atop a table showing the Cowboy-Eagle game? I didn't? Well, they had an HD television perched atop a table showing the Cowboy-Eagle game. Suffice it so say, I spent most of the five hours in there. Especially since there was food being delivered to the tent from the grill periodically every half hour or so. And it was every type of food. I ate chicken, steak, sausage, a burger, lamb, a hot dog, and two bowls of jambalaya for Christ's sake! No food stone was left unturned and by game time I was a bloated excuse for a man, with the gas emitting from me the only thing to propel me forward towards the stadium.
We found our seats ten minutes before kick-off, trying to spend as much time near the heaters before braving four quarters of football.
Side note: There is nothing riskier than attempting to use the facilities in weather like that. After struggling through undoing your belt, unzipping, and being comforted that you still have a penis, you're so bundled up that you're unable to see it. So God knows where that piss is going. Hopefully, it lands safely on the urinal cakes but for all you know, it could be rolling down your leg (or someone else's). I took the risk twice throughout the day. Once in a Port-O-John and another inside the stadium. And both times I crossed my fingers and hoped I hit the target. Success.
For us Jets fans, the game went as planned. If we won, we were in (the playoffs, that is). And we did. Handily, 37-0. We did the whole "J-E-T-S Jets! Jets! Jets!" chant and watched Fireman Ed lose his freakin' mind on the JumboTron before every kick-off. We screamed and yelled after every big offensive play and screamed and yelled the entire time the Jets were on defense. We cheered every time Darrelle Revis shut down Ochocinco and booed Chad every time he ran off the field. It was great.
We closed out the Meadowlands appropriately. For a stadium that is easily forgettable, we made the last night memorable. I'm glad I was there.
Setting themselves up
I'm so disappointed. Couldn't they have just lost? Couldn't they have just ended my misery?
No. They want me to suffer. The gods of football have forced me to struggle through another agonizing week.
The season was supposed to have unofficially ended last week. The coach even admitted as much. The season was lost and it was time for we lowly Jets fans to worry about the draft.
I say the preceding statements like I actually hoped they lost yesterday. Truth be told, it's in the nature of a Jet fan to enjoy pain, so going through the minuscule chances the Jets have is an enjoyable past time.
Me (yesterday, prior to the 1:00pm starts): Let's see, we need the Patriots to beat the Jaguars, the Steelers to beat the Ravens, the Texans to beat the Dolphins, and for good measure, the Eagles to beat the Broncos. If that happens, the Jets control their own destiny. They just need to beat the Colts and the Bengals. That's it! That's all they need! It's possible!
This is coming from a man who actually went to the Jets/Falcons disaster the previous Sunday. With the way they performed for four quarters against Atlanta, they shouldn't even accept an invitation to the playoffs. Missed field goals, interceptions, dropped passes, and one long, final drive by the Falcons to win it. It could be argued that it was the worst game in Jets history and it was the only NFL game I've ever been to. Just my luck.
So what am I holding on to? Why do I care about the playoff picture? They've disappointed me in the past too many times. I've made this analogy before, but I'm like a battered wife who continues to keeps coming back and says to herself "He's changed." Ugh.
So in case you missed the games yesterday, in short, EVERYTHING went the Jets way.
Miami: Lost. Out of the playoffs.
Jacksonville: Lost. And even at 7-8, still have a chance to make the playoffs.
Baltimore: Lost. Clinch wild-card berth with win against the Raiders.
Denver: Lost. Do not control their own destiny.
And the break of all breaks. Jim Caldwell (the head coach of the Indianapolis Colts) decides to sit Peyton Manning and the rest of his starters in the second half, which essentially forfeited a perfect season. The Jets defense and special teams took advantage. Final score: Jets 29, Colts 14.
Now, the Jets have a chance to close out the Meadowlands for good with a win against the Bengals. that will send them into the playoffs.
It's all too perfect. The Jets just need to win and they're in. The Bengals clinched the AFC North yesterday and since the Chargers and Colts already locked up the first round byes, Cincinnati has absolutely nothing to play for.
Is there any doubt that they blow this? I've witnessed too many Jets collapses in my life to even consider another scenario. Most recently last season when New York was 8-3, then in the blink of an eye they were losing to the Dolphins in Week 17 and narrowly missing the playoffs.
So unlike my relationship with the Yankees, where I expect nothing, with the Jets, I expect less than nothing. At around 4pm next season, I expect to flick off the television, and rack my brain wondering how Rex Ryan could decide to onside kick when they up by two points with a minute left.
Week 4 Fantasy Recap
I'll admit it. A large percentage of my fantasy football success is relied solely on luck. I mean, there are times when I make the most boneheaded roster moves, or my star players aren't performing and I'm lucky enough to have a great day by an unlikely position.
Take for instance, today.
Looking back, I had a really moronic lineup. I had four players (Drew Brees, Marques Colston, Leon Washington, Dustin Keller) on my team playing in the same game. Unless I was expecting a shootout (which I wasn't), there weren't many points to be had in that foursome.
And for the second straight week, I was given nothing by the fantasy machine, Drew Brees or his partner in crime, Marques Colston. Eight points? That's all you could give me Brees? Pierre Garcon gave me eight points and he's Pierre Garcon!
Needless to say, I was a little hamstrung. My early round players weren't helping out. And with my opponent more or less exceeding his projections, I needed a miracle.
Insert: San Francisco. Last Tuesday, I noticed I was starting Minnesota's defense against the Packers on Monday Night. I couldn't let them play. That game I expect to be a shootout and I know Aaron Rodgers will pick them apart.
So I needed a defense. I went over to the waiver wire and noticed that the 49ers hadn't been claimed. Jackpot!
Most fantasy players are hesitant to trust a team that had only recently become a defensive force. They usually stick with the old reliables: Baltimore, New England, Pittsburgh. The defensive position in fantasy is always tough to gauge because statistics such as sacks, interceptions, and forced fumbles (all of which provide points) don't necessarily signify a successful defense.
However, this 49ers team has done a terrific job defensively this season and I had to pick them up. Especially since they were playing the Pop Warner Rams.
Result: 5 sacks. 1 INT (TD). 2 fumble recoveries. 0 points allowed. 39 fantasy points. I win. "Buttered Popcorn" loses.
Oh, and I still have Percy Harvin tomorrow.
Week 4 Picks
Baltimore over New England
Washington over Tampa Bay
Tennessee over Jacksonville
Houston over Oakland
Chicago over Detroit
Cincinnati over Cleveland
Indianapolis over Seattle
New York over Kansas City
New Orleans over New York
Buffalo over Miami
Dallas over Denver
San Francisco over St. Louis
San Diego over Pittsburgh
Green Bay over Minnesota
Week 3 Fantasy Recap
Spare me. Don't tell me not to get mad at players for getting hurt. I will. It helps me cope.
I was penciled in to win Week 3 in my fantasy league. Tossing aside the "projected" points for each player, I had the better team. I was also on my way to a 2007 Patriots-like undefeated season.
Then Frank Gore gets his first carry of the day...dreams of an undefeated fantasy season swept away by a strained right ankle.
Total points for Mr. Gore: 0.40
Not even a full point. But I shouldn't really take all my blame on Gore. There were plenty of suspects to blame for my less than stellar performance in Week 3. Here, take a look:
Suspect 1: Drew Brees (and Marques Colston)
Drew Brees? The man I took in the first round of the draft. The man I risked ridicule and humiliation from my fellow competitors for. For the first two weeks he delivered. He delivered big time. In fact, he led the league in fantasy points over those weeks. Then Week 3 comes along and he lays a big fat egg. 5.68 points?! I expect that from my kicker, defense, or even a tight end. Not my starting quarterback. Not a potential MVP candidate. Frighteningly enough, even after that mistake of a week, he still leads the league in fantasy points.
Suspect 2: Dustin Keller
I trusted you! Putting aside my allegiance to the New York Jets, I really did believe Keller would have a phenomenal fantasy year for a tight end. And that does remain to be seen. But 20 points in three games? Unacceptable. On paper, Keller is the perfect fantasy tight end. Like a Dallas Clark or Antonio Gates, he's not exactly a key cog in blocking schemes but can catch anything that's thrown his way. In addition to that, I naturally assumed a rookie quarterback like Sanchez would become dependent on a big target for short yardage gains. But with the way Sanchez had been playing mistake-free football over the first three weeks, he has been able to utilize all his targets. As a fan: Terrific. As a fantasy owner: Frustrating.
Suspect 3: Denver's Defense
Wasn't this team scheduled to be irrelevant this season? Trading Jay Cutler to the Bears, having personnel troubles with Brandon Marshall, it didn't look good. Cue 3-0 and an entirely overlooked defense. At least by me and not by the owner of "RomosexualTendencies" (stupid name).
A closer look at their stats:
10 sacks, 5 interceptions, 3 fumble recoveries, 16 points allowed, and 44 fantasy points.
For a guy who obsesses over fantasy as much as I do, I really should pay more attention to defense. Positions like kicker and defense can be the difference between a successful or disappointing season. Obviously my opponent knew that.
The season isn't over yet. I'm 2-1 and currently 1st in the league with 358.64 points. I'll turn it around.
Big Fantasy Weeks
Maurice Jones Drew (RB)
119 rushing yards, 3TDs, 28 receiving yards, 32.70 fantasy points
Peyton Manning (QB)
379 passing yards, 4 TDs, 30.06 fantasy points
Pierre Thomas (RB)
126 rushing yards, 2TDs, 24.60 fantasy points
Santana Moss (WR)
178 receiving yards, 1 TD, 23.80 fantasy points
Week 3 Picks
Baltimore over Cleveland
Washington over Detroit
Houston over Jacksonville
Atlanta over New England
Green Bay over St. Louis
New York over Tampa Bay
Philadelphia over Kansas City
New York over Tennessee
San Francisco over Minnesota
New Orleans over Buffalo
Chicago over Seattle
Cincinnati over Pittsburgh
Denver over Oakland
San Diego over Miami
Arizona over Indianapolis
Dallas over Carolina
- @robdelaney His fault. He should've had his hands in fists. Doesn't he understand science?
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- @YankeesWFAN But he can't hit. He hasn't had an OPS over .900 since 2009.
- Oh, I get it. It's "MAID in Manhattan". Because she's a maid.
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