The
Patriots control their own destiny. Sort of. I’m sure their opponents will have
something to say about it but if New England wins out, they will have the #1
seed and home field throughout the playoffs.
But
you knew that.
Controlling
your own destiny is one of those sports phrases that’s essentially true for all
of us, like being day to day. We’re all day to day and I control my own destiny
to the same extent the Patriots do. If I take care of my business, everything
will turn out okay, right?
Yeah.
Sure. Mostly.
In
my experience, controlling your own destiny is a lot harder than it sounds,
especially when air travel is involved. On a day-to-day basis, I’m confronted
with an array of variables that will constrain my destiny controlling efforts.
Weather, other people and their general assholery, alien invasion (which hasn’t
happened yet but I believe would definitely impact my morning commute),
mechanical devices and their susceptibility to entropy, the inextricable ties to
family and the unending demands for time, attention and money that come with
them, Chaos Theory, the woeful lack of progress in battery technology,
genetics, the obvious failure of driver’s licensing testing to keep sociopaths
off the nation’s roads; all of these and more will have an impact on my ability
to control my own destiny.
The
variables may differ but the gestalt is essentially the same for sports in
general and football specifically. Weather, other people and Chaos Theory
certainly apply. At any given moment in a football game, there are twenty-two
large-grained variables on the field along with the officials and the coaches
on the sideline and up in the booth. The fans in the stadium and their relative
affinity for the rhythms of the game can be a factor. The playing surface and
the cleats the players wear can be the difference between a sure tackle or a
slip and fall by a wide receiver that leads to an interception.
Control,
it seems, is elusive. Much like destiny itself. Was I destined to become a
middle management factotum for an international insurance company? Was my true
destiny derailed? Am I simply a supporting character in the destiny of someone
greater than myself? There’s only one singer but a thousand people in the
audience, after all.
The
New England Patriots got to experience just how messy this whole destiny thing
is last Sunday night in San Diego. Thanks to their gritty, gutty, grindy 26-14 win,
fueled by the defense and sparked by special teams, the Patriots are in
position to secure the #1 seed and home field for the 2014 playoffs. It’s no
guarantee – destiny can be a capricious and vindictive minx – but it most
definitely would improve New England’s chances to rep the AFC in Super Bowl
XLIX.
Not
that we should speak of such things now. There are three games left and New
England will likely need to win all three to maintain control of their destiny.
This
Sunday is a hat and t-shirt game. With a win over the visiting Dolphins, the
Patriots will clinch their bazillionth AFC East championship in the last
bazillion years (someone should probably check my math on that) and hand out
the lids and tees that come with it. New England would also avenge their Week 1
loss in Miami.
Back
then, the Dolphins looked every bit the team the pigskin pundits and
bobbleheads had touted in the preseason as the team that would challenge the
Patriots for the division. Today the Dolphins are writhing on the floor,
clawing at their collars, clutching at their chests and hoping the EMT’s will
arrive in time. It seems that nothing short of heroic efforts and a liter-sized
syringe of adrenaline to the heart will save their season.
Perhaps
this is what losing control of your own destiny looks like.
Watching
the Dolphins last Sunday, I didn’t get the feeling these guys were really that
interested in staying together for an extra week of football. I was reminded of
Ryan Tannehill saying he thought Richie Incognito and Jonathan Martin were
besties. I remember thinking, how could he be so out of touch? I still didn’t
get the feeling he knows any of his teammates’ names when they aren’t wearing
their jerseys. The Dolphins just didn’t look like a team; like they were
playing for each other. They looked like they’d rather be anywhere else but
there. They certainly didn’t look like they cared to save their head coach’s
job and Joe Philbin looked like a man who couldn’t remember why he refused to
take violin lessons when he was an adolescent.
And
I don’t think the Dolphins want to play a December game in Foxborough.
Seriously, it’s cold here in December. When you get hit, you really feel it;
like small fractures in your very being, fractures that fill up with ice. I don’t
like walking my garbage to the curb, let alone getting hit by Jamie Collins or
Brandon Browner. The Fish People of the South have come north to Valhalla where
Young Odin is about to cram an oblate spheroid snowball up their collective
asses.
And
yet, the Dolphins are dangerous. Playmakers on offense and defense. In the
context of the anything can happen NFL (I’ve got to go with the New Orleans
Saints as the biggest surprise this year), Miami has some chance of winning
this game. Controlling their destiny. Maintaining their shot at 10-6-0 and
missing the playoffs on a tiebreaker. Could save some jobs, I suppose. If not
the head coach then perhaps a linebacker or defensive back can put something on
film that the next head coach will like. Players gonna play. Don’t sleep on
Cameron Wake. Watch out for Tannehill on the read option keeper.
Given
the revenge factor for this divisional game I’ll be disappointed if this isn’t
a walkover for the Patriots. Something like 30-6 and not as close as the score
indicates. A bounce back game for Brady. And Brandon LaFell. I’ll give the
Phins a late TD and a failed 2-pointer. It’s scary to think how much better the
defense will be with Dominique Easley, Chandler Jones and Dont’a Hightower
healthy.
Of
course, I’ll take a one-point win if it comes to that.
I
better stock up on vodka.
Either
way it will be good to have plenty of vodka.
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