I like to think of myself as a man of science and reason. I subscribe to the notion that momentum is a phenomena limited to physics; that "clutch" is nothing more than the typical variations in small data samples, and "choking" applies only to scenarios in which an unfortunate diner has failed to sufficiently chew that overly optimistic piece of meatloaf before attempting to swallow it.
And yet, there are games I watch where I just know one team is going to make a play when it matters most and the other team will need the pigskin Heimlich.
Thursday night's Chiefs win in OT over the Chargers in Los Angeles was one of those games.
I was watching mostly because of the playoff implications for the Patriots, of course, but this was also a match up of two of the league's best young quarterbacks in Patrick Mahomes and Justin Herbert, and my inner child digs the deep ball.
Even though the Chargers held a lead for most of the game, I never trusted it. Now, this may well be simple recognition of the big play machine that is Patrick Mahomes. Or it could be that some pigskin loving gypsy living in San Diego cursed the Chargers when they decided a sublet in La La Land was what they needed to live a fulfilled life.
Okay, I don't know if that gypsy curse story is true but it would certainly explain a lot.
Trust me. I know how lucky I've been to root for a team coached by Bill Belichick. Nothing is worse than rooting for a team that consistently does stupid stuff. It makes you question whether or not there's any meaning to this life. It makes you examine your life decisions, the inflection points, that left-hand turn in Albuquerque. As great as Belichick is, though, I find it puzzling that so few other teams seem to even understand - let alone, to have mastered - the sport they play.
The NFL has a business model designed to promote parity; to hobble winners with poor draft position and a high degree of difficulty in the regular season scheduling, while rewarding losers with top draft picks and a regular season schedule of hobo fights begging for a winner. The NFL wants everyone to get a ribbon.
It begs the question…
How have the Detroit Lions been so miserably bad for so miserably long? The Lions are like a blind squirrel that can't find an acorn, even now and then.
How did the Jacksonville Jaguars hire Urban Meyer when Byron Leftwich and Todd Bowles were literally right down the road, just driving distance away?
How have the Jets and Giants turned Gotham into a desolate, desperate, disconsolate metropolis without a pigskin Batman? Is Daniel Jones the real-life, gridiron Harvey Dent? Is Zach Wilson the pigskin Joker (Cesar Romero, not Heath Ledger)?
Obviously, I don't have the answers to those questions; if I did I'd be making an obscene amount of money as a consultant for the 3X World Champion Detroit Lions. But someone (besides Bill Belichick) should have those answers, shouldn't they?
Yes, it's a delightfully complex sport with 22 variables on the field at any given moment. The ball is an oblate spheroid inclined to move in unpredictable ways when it makes contact with the turf. It's rules are arcane, context-specific, and for most (apparently), TL;DR. Still, it is, like any sport, all about the fundamentals and time-honored verities. Blocking and tackling. A game of field position. Technique. Run the ball/Stop the run. (Yes, that's still true even in the pass-wacky 21st century NFL.) Ball security and turnovers. Defense wins championships. They still call it football (so draft a punter and don't apologize for it). Also, it probably wouldn't hurt to read Sun Tzu.
I wonder if Belichick will write "The Art of Football" after he retires. Probably not. I'm sure he thinks it would be redundant.
Maybe this all only seems simple or obvious because I've been watching a team coached by Sun Tzu, I mean, Bill Belichick for the last 20+ years.
No mystery here, fellas.
Do your job.
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