Hello, Brown Daily Herald reader in the Ratty. Yes, you with the bagel and the Special K. And greetings to you, guy in the Blue Room who just spilled the mustard all over the bottom of this page. Thank you all for being here today, whether you are a regular reader of the column or you found a copy left open to this page in the Gate in one of my desperate attempts for readership. We are gathered today in this corner of the sports section to remember the 2010 National Football League season, for all of its . . . individuality.
The 2010 NFL season was not like other football seasons. This much was apparent from its formative toddler years, when we saw the Chiefs upset the Chargers in the very first week. It was then we all knew that this little season, which had just taken its first baby steps, would blossom into a full-fledged fantasy football nightmare. It would be the kind of year where a team in a "rebuilding" phase can finish as a top seed. The kind of year where fans throw remote controls at televisions after the stricter pass interference rules, which are slowly undermining the mechanics of our beloved game, just cost their team pivotal fourth quarter field position. The kind of year where you can lose more games than you win, but still play in a divisional match-up for home-field advantage in the NFC championship.
Nope. I can't do this. I can't mourn the loss of this NFL season. I'm sorry, 2010, but it's not me — it's you. When Super Bowl Sunday finally rolls around, I will be celebrating and watching. Not with an interest in the game, but rather with the grim satisfaction often worn by the audience outside of the gallows as they come to watch a serial killer be hanged. As this season enters its death throes and begins to slip into the great beyond, let's take a look at some of the lowlights from this forgettable season.
Tom Brady's ‘hilarious' Derek Anderson impression
One would think that, as a Patriots fan, I have soured on this season because of their shocking upset at the hands of our bitter in-conference rivals — the Jets. That would be absolutely true. I stomped about my house furious and heartbroken for reasons I couldn't possibly have fathomed before the game. Our young defense — a source of great anxiety for me — actually played a great game, given the awful positions they were put in time and time again. The offensive line was giving Tom Brady all day in the pocket to throw the ball.
Then what was the issue? Tom Brady, the football messiah in New England, had one of the worst games he has ever played. As I listened to Phil Simms chirp about how fantastic the Jets pass coverage was, I couldn't help but notice the 6-foot-6-inch Rob Gronkowski being covered by the 5-foot-9-inch Drew Coleman. I'm not saying that the Jets had bad pass coverage, but if you are one of the greatest quarterbacks of all time and the likely NFL MVP of that season, I don't think it's asking too much of you to get the ball to a guy nine inches taller than the man covering him. Toss in Brady's hurry-up offense, where the game plan was "hand the ball to Danny Woodhead and hope for the best," and we got to see what it's like to have Derek Anderson running your offense. Sorry, Cardinals fans.
Buck up, though, fellow Pats supporters. With three first-round draft picks and one of the youngest teams in the NFL, I like our chances for next year. What's that? There might not be football next year because the owners and players are locked in a greedy game of chicken? Totally.
Drew Brees is the Lorax
I'm not going to be shocked in a couple of weeks when reports surface that Drew Brees actually disappeared from the earth in the offseason following the Saints' Super Bowl victory. You shouldn't be either. After all, the Saints were literally the same team from a year ago, yet were disgracefully dispatched from the playoffs by the 7-9 Seahawks. The biggest reason for this drop-off was the number of turnovers by the player wearing number nine. The player claiming to be Drew Brees threw 22 interceptions, the second-worst number in the NFL. Meanwhile, the Saints had one of the easier schedules in the league, with the combined records of their opponents being 95-113, yet still lost games to cellar dwellers such as the Cardinals. Sorry, Cardinals fans.
The only thing that makes sense? Drew Brees is the Lorax. He got upset during the offseason when the BP oil spill happened and decided that he could no longer tolerate humanity's treatment of nature. After he departed, the Saints were forced to bring Vinny Testaverde out of retirement and have him undergo massive plastic surgery to resemble Drew Brees.
This puzzling Saints season will finally make sense when Head Coach Sean Payton goes in front of the cameras and explains what happened to Brees that night.
"Drew said nothing. Just gave me a glance... Just gave me a very sad, sad backward glance... As he lifted himself by the seat of his pants. And I'll never forget the grim look on his face when he hoisted himself up and took leave of this place, through a hole in the smog, without leaving a trace."
This is a joke. Drew Brees is not actually the Lorax. He was just really bad this season for absolutely no reason at all. While false, the above claims make more sense than what actually happened.
The ‘courage' of Ben Roethlisberger
As Roethlisberger prepares to square off against his first non-NFC West Super Bowl opponent, we are bombarded by sports stories about how he has overcome controversy, truly focused on his play and carried the Steelers to the Super Bowl. Don't get me wrong. Roethlisberger's play has been sensational. Given the decrepit and depleted offensive line in front of him, it's amazing that Roethlisberger has his team going to Dallas.
No, it's not the quality of Roethlisberger's play that I question, but whether he should be playing at all. In a time when Michael Vick went to jail and went bankrupt for the atrocities he committed against animals — which was a horrible crime and just punishment — the six-game suspension that Roethlisberger served for sexually assaulting another human being is offensive. We are talking about forcing yourself on a 20-year-old woman in a night club bathroom while your entourage stops her friends from rescuing her. That's not just disgusting and wrong — that's evil.
But Commissioner Roger Goodell couldn't have one of his best quarterbacks out for the year — that would hurt revenue. Instead, he gave him a slap on the wrist and a six-game suspension. Now, Roethlisberger is being painted as a hero of sorts who persevered when Steelers fans turned on him. Really, they were just recoiling in horror like any moral fanbase would've done.
Instead of discussing Troy Polamalu's return from injury or Aaron Rodgers' stepping out of Brett Favre's shadow, we are instead left examining the social inconsistencies granted to professional athletes. Do you hire a suspected rapist as an employee at your company? I bet you don't tell him, "Just miss the first six days of work and we'll call it even."
That's the real reason why, even as a Patriots fan, I rooted for the Jets last week. As tough as it would be to see a loud-mouthed buffoon like Rex Ryan hold the trophy, even that trumps a sex offender in my book.
Sam Sheehan '12 thinks that if the people of New Orleans plant a Truffula tree, Drew Brees might come back. Talk sports with him at sam_sheehan@brown.edu.
