Fantastic Pigskins And Where To Find Them

So, Bill Belichick is the head master of a Pigskin Hogwarts. And yes, okay, he came from the House of Slytherin. Geez, just one Voldemort an an entire house gets a bad name. Anyway, I'd say Belichick is more Snape than He Who Shall Not Be Named. Whatever. Be a hater.

Meanwhile, Belichick must occasionally play Quidditch against mere muggles. 

No surprise this game wasn't flexed to prime time.

I Feel Good

Tom Brady. Again. For the 200th time.

As scary and as indelible as that moment was, as LeGarrette Blount reversed field and Brady turned upfield, willingly if ineptly placing himself in harm's way, just the act of playing through the pain - and pulling out the win - could be even bigger in the long run. An end of the second act moment. A this might be something that could be something kind of moment. Yeah. I feel good. So good.

I know I shouldn't be so optimistic but I really do think we had a moment there. Brady gutting out the win on a gammy leg. The recently re-minted Captain leading by example. I'm definitely sensing a moment in the narrative here. The cold-blooded game-winner to Malcolm Mitchell seemed almost effortless despite the somewhere in the neighborhood presence of the ghost of Darrelle Revis. That was a moment, too. Still. Tom Brady running interference as LeGarrette Blount reversed field. Brady blocked like a man running through a field of rabid badgers. (No badgers were harmed in the running of that play.) It was horrifying. I held my breath. Somehow, Brady avoided all the badgers, er, Jets. On a gammy leg.  

I suppose Derek Carr may have had that moment, too, what with his comeback following the nausea-inducing dislocated little finger on his throwing hand. (Just saying I believe Brady would've recovered the fumbled snap had it been his and not Carr's little finger smashed sideways. I wouldn't have. I would not. I would've snapped. A stress-induced madness brought on by a searing, blinding pain. Total personality dissolution, if only for a few fleeting yet harrowing moments. All I would've been able to think is... FINGER! But that's me. Brady would've not only picked up the fumble but he probably would've then thrown a TD pass. Maybe not. I'll admit it; that's crazy talk. Probably. That finger was way gnarly. Okay, let's leave it that Brady would've recovered the fumble.) Carr pulled out another 4th quarter win for the Raiders, using a glove from Stark Industries to finish the game (after his finger was un-dislocated).

It's the expectation of fame. The responsibility of celebrity. Win the locker room and you win in the 4th quarter. It's the pigskin subtext for some straight up Joseph Campbell with a Carl Jung chaser. Brady. Carr. Parallel storylines that Einstein himself would tell you are destined to collide. It's hero time. Big damn hero time. Big damn pigskin hero time.

Brady, though. He's owned the Patriots locker room for a long time now. There are guys on the roster who literally grew up watching Tom Brady win Super Bowls and be otherwise awesome all the time. Now they're in the same locker room, on the same practice field, playing games with him.

It's got to be surreal to be Malcolm Mitchell or Joe Thuney or any of the 20-somethings on the roster. Hey, Malcolm Mitchell! Tom Brady just called you clutch, dude. What's that like?

I just let myself think about SB51 and it felt good.

Why Is It Always Snakes?

There's a moment in "Raiders of the Lost Ark" when Indy says, "Snakes… Why is it always… snakes."

That's how I feel about Jets games.

Game Time Decisions

For those of us east of the Connecticut River the seven most reassuring words in the pigskin 'verse are "Tom Brady, expected to play this Sunday..."

Far less reassuring are "Tom Brady, game time decision..."

Newsworthy

As I scanned the usual and customary web sites this morning I was reminded of that old saying; things are never as good as the seem or as bad as they seem. Except when they are.

The Perfect is the Enemy of the Good

Are there other fan bases that gnaw on their own ankles as if their foot was caught in a bear trap of doom and despair after a 30-17 win? There aren’t, am I right? It’s just us, the good citizens of Patriots Nation, isn’t it? I thought so.

Fascinated By The Process

Thank the pigskin gods, yet one more time, for Tom Brady.

Let me start with the touchdown pass to Malcolm Mitchell. It was sublime. It was like watching a great NBA point guard hit a streaking swing man on the fast break. A Eurostep dunk. The quick step to the right by Brady to stay alive in the pocket. The nanosecond between recognition and execution. The defender, with his back turned, has no idea what is about to happen. Brady’s pass is thrown perfectly; a dart, it hits Mitchell in stride. When Mitchell catches the ball, the defender is suddenly surprised and in the moment of hesitation that follows shock, Michell is gone.

I will revisit the highlights from this game many times just to see this play again and again.

So beautiful.

Metric This

“There are lies, damned lies and statistics.”

-Mark Twain

“Stats are for losers.”

-Bill Belichick

Bill Belichick is a secret stat nerd. He just doesn’t want you to know it. I get it. It’s complicated. But I like to keep things simple. As Belichick himself has acknowledged, there is one stat that matters; points.

Rooting Interests

We’ve reached that point in the season where I care almost as much about other teams losing as I do about the Patriots winning.

Almost…

I'm On To San Francisco

Look, I get it. Dallas looked like Godzilla in the Tokyo financial district in the win over Pittsburgh. Then Tom Brady couldn’t overcome the ennui and Gronk couldn’t make a catch playing with a punctured lung and the Patriots had lost their second home game. It was… disconcerting. At the end of the day they simply didn’t play well enough to beat a team as good as the Seattle Seahawks. Maybe it’s a good thing. A Zen slap. An icy cold glass of wait-what? The proverbial wake-up call. Maybe it will be good in the long run...

On to San Francisco!

I'm Trying

I’m trying. I’m not sure I’ll ever get to acceptance. Too many thoughts I doubt I can ever reconcile…

The Perfect Distraction

Yeah, I’m not going to talk about it. The thing. You know. The thing. We’re on to… who the hell knows, really? But I bought the ticket a long time ago. I’ll take the ride.

Where was I? Oh, right. We’re on to Seattle.

Narrative Seeking

As we hit the halfway mark in the season, there are a few storylines I’m tracking. Well, it’s more that I’m narrative seeking than narrative tracking. After all, anything can happen in this crazy pigskin world…

Something Special

I’m about to get way ahead of myself here but I’m not the only one. National pigskin pundits and bobbleheads have ceded the AFC to the Patriots and started wondering if there’s a team that has a chance to beat them in the Super Bowl. The calculus of the statistically minded says Tom Brady has never been better. Local fanboys have noted the 2016 team is as Patrioty as any Patriots team ever.

Yeah, I’m going to go out on a limb here. I think we’re watching something special happen.