Trust Me: Don’t Trust Me

snappby Dan Snapp
dan@patriotsdaily.com

The trouble with the NFL draft is nobody calls me on my crap.

I need somebody to keep me honest, to be the counterweight for the eventuality when I blurt out, “Grab McKelvin!” 
 
“Saw a lot of his college play, did you?” my personal BS detector would chime in.

“Sure. Played for Troy. Top cornerback available. Talented returner.”

“And you actually watched a Troy game when?”

“Shut up.”

I think this service could be marketable. Think of the time savings. Your own personal BS detector would be there in the months running up to draft, dissuading you from clicking the articles of others lacking BS detection services.

“Don’t read King,” he’d tell me. “He doesn’t know. He knows guys who know but probably aren’t telling. The difference between him and the average fan is somebody actually pays him for his Starbucks complaints.”

My brother won’t be of help in this instance; my third-hand stuff is gospel enough for him to pass on as fourth-hand stuff. My wife’s a good BS detector, but we’re talking about the NFL draft here; she’ll roll her eyes and call me a geek.

So no, I confess I  haven’t heard of most of these guys prior to February. Matt Ryan, sure, Darren McFadden and Chris Long, a handful of others. I knew about Louisville QB Brian Brohm - a likely second rounder from what they tell us - but that’s just residual third-hand knowledge from last year’s pre-draft hype, before Brohm decided to come back for his senior year.

Ken-Yon Rambo is my NFL Draft patron saint.

The former Ohio State receiver is the constant beacon  reminding me the overarching lesson of the draft: no matter the information taken in, the draft guides absorbed and experts trusted, when the NFL draft finally plays out, I know squat.

Rambo was predicted by many to go in the first day in 2001. “First round talent,” some said. But he slipped past the first, past the second, and out of the first day altogether. And as he kept sliding and each new Patriots pick came up, I beseeched the screen, “He’s still there! Grab him!” The screen didn’t listen, not until some Raiders fans’ prayers were answered sometime in the seventh round when Oakland finally drafted him.

Rambo’s career ultimately followed suit with his draft positioning. He bounced around the league for a couple years, then ended up in the CFL. The teams were right, the pundits wrong, and a bunch of fans looked like idiots pleading for two days for their teams to draft a journeyman receiver.

If you, too, have fallen prey to this phenomenon, hire a BS detector. Your family will thank you.

Shedding a Little Light

For the sake of a nice little storyline, Peter King recycled an old Patriots/Jets draft story from 2001. He recounts the tale of Matt Light being on the phone with both teams at the same time, and the Patriots telling him to stay on the line while they work a deal with Detroit to get in front of the Jets.

In the recycled version, King says the Patriots worried about the Jets’ interest from the start:
 

The Patriots very much wanted Purdue tackle Matt Light in the second round, but worried that the Jets might want Light too. New England personnel chief Scott Pioli called Light with the draft at the 47th pick and asked if he’d heard from any other teams recently. “Yeah,” Light said. “I’ve got the Jets on the other line.” Pioli thanked him, hung up, and the Patriots called the Lions, at 48, and swapped picks, giving Detroit a sixth-rounder in return.

In his original telling of the story, there’s no hint of their concern for the Jets’ interest in him until Light lets Scott Pioli know they’re also on the line:

Light then had phones to each ear. The Patriots asked who was on the other line. “The Jets,” Light said. The Patriots told him: We’re putting you on hold for a minute, but do not under any circumstances hang up. “I waited 90 seconds, maybe two minutes, then the Patriots came back on the line. They told me they just traded ahead of the Jets with Detroit to get me.”

Now perhaps King’s got Pioli on record as saying they were worried the Jets might want Light. But more likely, it’s to advance the storyline of the Patriots doing whatever they can to thwart the Jets, and vice versa.

King speculates a scenario where the two teams are vying for the same players, with the Chiefs’ Carl Peterson the likely benefactor of the turf war, presumably with the Pats trading up to 5 and giving a giddy Peterson a handsome bonus pick.

For a better history lesson, King would do well to consult the 2003 draft, in which both the Jets and Patriots were seeking defensive line help. The Jets gave up a bundle to move up to the fourth pick and draft DeWayne Robertson, while the Patriots moved up one spot to 13 to take Ty Warren.

Ron Borges declared that the Jets had outmaneuvered the Patriots, leaving the Pats to select the “fifth or sixth best defensive tackle” in Warren. Chicago GM Jerry Angelo said afterwards that contrary to Borges’ beliefs, the Patriots never had serious discussions about the fourth pick.

Warren, of course, has solidified himself as one of the best defensive lineman in the league, while the Jets this offseason have been trying to rid themselves of the disappointing Robertson and his prohibitive salary.

The Pats won’t be trading up.

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

logoby Dan Snapp
dan@patriotsdaily.com

I might have to give up the merit badges, the keys to the Patriots Daily executive washroom, even the cherished Troy Brown-inscribed rose-colored sunglasses.

Sorry, guys. Try though I might, I just can’t get worked up over the loss. I know this goes against the grain of the fandom, but I’m actually, well, OK with it.

The shame.

Look, of course it’s disappointing. But the truth is it was a hell of a game. The Giants made some amazing plays when they absolutely needed to, and they completely earned it. They were the better team. What more can be said?

The Patriots fan in me grieves; the football fan admires the magnitude of the achievement. No, I don’t have a key to the company liquor cabinet.

It would be easier if the Giants were more hateable. Yeah, there’s always Strahan, but that big fraud’s always been like that, a harmless goofball. There was some talk, but most of it was pretty muted. Yeah, yeah, Plaxico’s prediction, but who cares? What’s he supposed to say, that his team would lose?

Eli’s the lesser of two evils but now possibly the greater of two Mannings, at least in big games. He doesn’t do the Peyton face well enough to dislike him.  Plus, those last two drives, he was money. You gotta respect that.

I know, I know. Here’s my security badge.

There’s no pontificating head coach, no self-promoting star QB, no popcorn-eating wide receiver. No villains at all, really. Their coach is just as curmudgeonly and misunderstood as our coach. Their fourth receiver had the two biggest plays of the game. Their backup tight end took a pass 45 yards. Their third defensive tackle had the culminating sack of the game.

Hell, maybe these guys are the 2001 Pats after all. To paraphrase Helen Seinfeld, “How can anyone not like them?”

Guys, is the security guard really necessary?

Meanwhile, after two weeks of media proclaiming “the best team ever”, “the best quarterback ever”, “the best coach ever”, blah blah blah, I really found myself hating these over-hyped favorites. Oh wait, that was the Patriots they were talking about. Sorry. Old habit, hating the over-hyped.

Seriously, though, parade plans? A “19-0″ book? And even, God help us, copyrighting “19-0″? Please, please, please tell me that’s not really true. And who let Rick Pitino into the stadium complex in the first place?

That’s not the team we’ve come to love. That’s not the Bill Belichick way. To him, we’ve been trained, such actions are deemed “unseemly”.

But that’s just it about this season. None of it’s been the Belichick way. The scores, the records, the bests this and that. That used to be for the other teams. Let them have the records; we’ll take the rings. Right?

Even the premature pronouncements of Brady and Belichick, respectively, as “best ever”; those seem like titles both would rather see declared under the benefit of hindsight, long after their careers are over. “Just happy to be mentioned in the same breath,” is the proper phrase for the here and now.

Otto Graham, one of the greats Brady was scheduled to surpass, played 10 years of professional football and went to 10 championship games. He won the first four in the old All-America Football Conference (including a perfect season in ‘48), and then the next one in the Browns’ first year in the NFL. But then the Browns lost three straight title games. They responded by winning the next two.

This is the future I see for the New England Patriots. Built to compete for the title every year, winning some, losing some, but back to challenge every season. Not perfect, but a hell of a run.

Perfect was a pipe dream. One that so nearly came true, but in the end, still a dream. All the Patriots proved was they can be the 2004 Colts better than the 2004 Colts could, but with the same sad results.

The dream’s over. Let’s get back to what the Patriots were in the start of the decade: balanced offense, punishing defense, opportunistic special teams, and the team every vanquished opponent thought wasn’t “the better team.”

So can I get my shades back?

Mother Knew Best

It’s odd the moments you miss them most. Mom would have been the first to call Sunday night.

“Hi Mom.”
“Oh, do you have one of those caller identification things?”
“No.”
“So are you OK, honey?”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“That was such a tough loss.”
“It was.”
“Well, I remember how you used to get.”
“I was just a kid then.”
“You’d shoot baskets in the driveway for three hours after the Celtics lost. And that wasn’t even the playoffs.”
“I’m not like that now.”
“You’d destroy my marigolds.”
“Not on purpose. They were kinda in my baseline.”
“Well, I thought the Giants deserved to win! They played great!”
“Oh, I agree. The Pats have only themselves to blame. It’s not like the refs did them in or something, like a couple of those calls in Indy last ye…”
“Oh, I thought the referees were completely fair today!”
“No, no, me too. I meant last year in Indianap…”
“I was happy for Eli.”
“Well…”
“Dad says he misses you yelling at the TV.”
“I don’t really do that anymore, either. But I miss being there, too.”
“Something’s burning. Here’s your father.”

“‘ello?”
“Hey, Dad. What’d you think?”
“Entertaining! Wish they had found a use for Mr. Brown, though.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Think he’ll be back one more year?”
“I doubt it.”
“Here’s your mother.”

“Hi, it’s me. So that play with Manning breaking free and the receiver catching it against his helmet. His helmet! I could barely stand to watch!”
“I know.”
“They earned that win!”
“Absolutely.”
“The Patriots had their chances, and they blew it!”
“No argument here.”
(pause)
“So I just called to say life goes on.”
“I know, Mom.”
“They’ll be back again.”
“Yeah, I think so too.”
“Your brothers are probably calling. Kiss your girls for me.”
“I will.”

What I wouldn’t give now to take that call.

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

logoby Dan Snapp
dan@patriotsdaily.com

As plights go, it’s not a bad one to have.

Our team’s in the Super Bowl, at the threshold of completing the most historic season in the  sport’s existence. We should be grateful, humbled and in reverent awe of what’s occurring, and for the most part, we are. But allow us this one minor cavil:

Can’t we please just play the damn game already?

It’s a bit of predicament for Patriots fans. You want the game to be here, yet you hope the moment lingers. After Sunday, after all, it’s over. Nothing left to look forward to, but also nothing left to worry over.

So which is it, then? The journey or the destination? It’s tough, though possible, to enjoy both, as they seem at odds with one another.

It feels like waiting for your kid to be born. You’re excited in the anticipation, but want it to be over with and for everything to just turn out OK. And you know nothing’s going to be the same ever again.

(I can hear my wife now: “Childbirth and the Super Bowl. Right. Perfectly analogous.”)

So to amplify that anxiety - and exploit your consumerism - the NFL decided to invent the two-week waiting period. If the Super Bowl is the league’s Heaven, this then is their own little Purgatory, where no point goes underanalyzed, no shot’s considered gratuitous, and no dead horse is unbeaten.

It’s great for the media. They spent all last week talking themselves into a Giants upset, so they’ve still got a week to sober up.

But mostly, it’s an opportunity to discuss their favorite topics: themselves. This “Broadcast News” line seems apt:

TOM GRUNICK: The latest message seems to indicate that the Libyan pilot was acting on his own without authority from anyone else. (into camera directly) In other words, I think we’re okay.

ERNIE MERRIMAN: Who cares what you think?

One of the first questions off the plane for Bill Belichick was how much disdain does he hold for the media. Essentially, “Bill, let’s talk about the game. How come you don’t like us?”

Dan Shaughnessy had a good get last week, interviewing Bill Parcells on his old Giants staffers Belichick and Coughlin. Dan’s signature question:

What about Belichick’s astonishing ability to remain obtuse about the most benign of topics?

So Shaughnessy gets what he wants, a more open, friendly Belichick in Arizona, and what does he do with it?

Who kidnapped Bill Belichick? Who invaded his body? Where is the ogre?

That must have come out of Dan’s “Plan B” drawer.

Thank God for the NFL Network, or for my purposes, the NFL Films Network. Rewatching the Patriots Super Bowls is a great time-killer. They never get old, and you always pick up something new. Like this exchange in SB XXXVI, mere seconds before Tom Brady connects with David Patten for a TD:

Pat Summerall, on Belichick: “Talk about a guy that’s become easier to converse with, and loosened up.”

John Madden: “Yeah, he’s a good guy. He’s a good guy and a great coach.”

My favorite in the first Super Bowl remains Rams reserve running back Justin Watson, aka the “I like our chances!” guy. You remember him:

“I told you, I like our chances! We are the number one offense in the league. I like our chances!”

I wanna see Watson in some commercial spots during the Super Bowl. Have him suited as different Pats opponents from this season, with a mock interview prior to each game.

REPORTER:  “How do you feel about the game today, Justin? Your chances of beating the Patriots?”

JETS WATSON: “I like our chances!  I like our chances!”

Each game, he’s a little less enthusiastic.

STEELERS WATSON: “Well … we’re the number four offense in the league. …. I like our chances. They’re, um, you know, good chances.”

DOLPHINS WATSON: “Man, we don’t have a chance.”

Finally, with the Giants:

GIANTS WATSON: “I’m in the Super Bowl, baby!”

Might be tough to locate him. Nobody in the NFL’s seen him since Super Bowl XXXVI.

Re-watching the Patriots/Packers from ‘97, you couldn’t help but think, “Winnable game.” The Patriots had a good plan to offset the Packers rush, if Drew Bledsoe could only throw a damn screen pass. He had two tipped, threw another at Bob Kratch’s back (causing a penalty), and threw one in the only conceivable manner that would allow “Curtis Martin vs. Gilbert Brown” to be a mismatch in Brown’s favor. 

What was forgotten was the seven- and eight-DB formations the Pats threw at Brett Favre in that game. What was seen as groundbreaking in Super Bowl XXXVI was taken from this game. Madden was the one who called it out; you’d think he’d have made the connection five years later.

The simpler, more innocent days of the NFL are long gone (at least they seemed simple and innocent in John Facenda’s booming voice backed by Sam Spence’s soundtrack), but I want ‘em back.

Give me back Super Bowl day games and Hank Stram telling his boys to matriculate. Give me back unextended halftime shows, be it college marching bands, Al Hirt or even “Up With People”. OK. Don’t really give me “Up With People.” But the others, yeah, sure.

Mostly, give me back the one-week wait.

Kevin-Sent

logoby Dan Snapp
dan@patriotsdaily.com

Prior to the start of the 2000 season, the Patriots played in the Hall of Fame Game in Canton, Ohio. The game marked Bill Belichick’s Patriots head coaching debut, Tom Brady’s first action (he went 3-for-4 for 28 yards), Dennis Miller’s Monday Night Football premiere, and Miller’s lone instance of being funny (”It’s surprisingly hard to find good Cantonese here,” he quipped) in his entire MNF run.

Kevin Faulk was a footnote then, an “undersized” second-year back fighting for playing time against free agent Raymont Harris and rookie J.R. Redmond.

Back then, the yearly running back question was “Who will replace Curtis Martin?” There was Robert Edwards in ‘98 (before his sad beach volleyball injury), Terry Allen in ‘99, and this game appeared to be Harris’s audition for the role, with nine carries for 58 yards.

But Faulk showed the first signs of his future role with the team, taking a pass from Michael Bishop for a 25-yard TD, and returning a punt 22 yards to set up another score. This prompted Miller to suggest Faulk might be the answer to the Martin question. It was a throwaway line, one of those designed to fete the players in front of him in an otherwise dull game.

Nobody could have imagined then that Faulk would come to mean more to the team than Martin ever did, nor entertain us more than Miller ever could.

Kevin Faulk is the most important running back in Patriots history. Others were more athletic, more talented, more accomplished. Certainly he’s been outrushed by a slew of them. But no back has been more pivotal to the Patriots’ success.

Sunday’s performance - laying out for 11-yard third down conversion and reaching behind and down for a fingertip grab three plays later - only punctuated that importance. As Christopher Price noted here yesterday, Faulk’s been 13-for-13 on passes thrown to him the past two games. What does it say about him that that stat’s not the least bit surprising?

Just about every Patriots fan has underrated Faulk at some point in his career. It was obvious he wasn’t a lead back in this league, and his six fumbles in 2000 led to a probably undeserved charge that he was “fumble-prone.” It wasn’t until the 2003 season, when he helped save games against Denver and Houston (just about singlehandedly in that one), that he cemented his role on the team and in our hearts.

In CBS’s post-game wrapup Sunday, Boomer Esiason said someday Gillette Stadium would see a “Kevin Faulk Day.” It was a nice sentiment, and an inevitable honor. But it’s not enough.

There’s no worthy place of honor for a player like Faulk: passing game specialist, productive punt returner, and blitz picker-upper extraordinaire. He has nowhere near the rushing nor receiving stats for the Hall of Fame, of course. There will be a “Kevin Faulk Day” and he’ll own a spot in the Patriots “Ring of Honor”, or whatever the Patriots will call it.

Perhaps we could call him the “best third-down back of all time”, although probably a dubious honor, connoting an inability to be a lead back. Plus, somebody like Joe Washington might be the holder of that title.

It may be left to honor him in our memories. Tell us your favorite Kevin Faulk moments here.

What’s Luck Got To Do With It?

logoby Dan Snapp
dan@patriotsdaily.com

So now the Patriots are lucky? Lucky they don’t have to face the big, bad Colts again in their path to the Super Bowl?

Luck certainly didn’t help the Colts much. Ninety lucky horseshoes (one for each side of the helmet) didn’t work. Their lucky ref’s feet, the ones imbedded deep into Bill Polian’s back pocket, nearly did the trick. But overall, as they say, no such luck.

The better team advanced. The big, bad Colts aren’t big or bad anymore, and they showed that Sunday. Unless they could pull a rabbit out of a hat, they would’ve gotten creamed by the Patriots. The Chargers saved them the embarrassment.

Let’s not sell San Diego short. They’re a tough, talented team that showed grit on defense and resourcefulness on offense. They earned their trip to Foxboro.

Perhaps they’re not as difficult a matchup for the Pats as the Colts would be, but I’m not so certain. Consider the obstacles they overcame: winning on the road, in front of a hostile crowd, in an (let’s be honest) artificially loud stadium; overcoming a multiple MVP quarterback and a team of refs cowed by the hometown GM; playing with a gimpy star tight end; hamstrung by a coach more willing to give the ball back with a minute and a half to the multiple MVP than pass on third down; and losing both their starting QB and running back in the interim.

Either the Colts are that bad, or the Chargers are that good. Maybe a bit of both.

Which Blueprint Would You Print?

Anyone who played a wind instrument as a child may be privy to the concept of “circular breathing”. In theory, the player continues expelling air while inhaling through his nose, enabling him to sustain a continual note. In practice, results are mixed.

“Circular reasoning” is similar in concept, but more open to hyperventilation. To do either, you pretty much have to blow.

Which brings us to Jets beat man Rich Cimini. A month ago, Cimini glommed onto a popular theme late in the season: proclaiming that your team - providing they stayed within ten points - in defeat supplied the “blueprint” for beating the Pats.

Cimini took a novel approach, which is what makes it my favorite of the faulty blueprint claims. He basically suggested Belichick was hoisted with his own petard:

Bill Belichick devised a brilliant plan that slowed down the high-scoring, quick-strike Bills in Super Bowl XXV. Instead of the usual 3-4 scheme, Belichick employed a two-man line — a 2-4-5 alignment. The strategy came with this unorthodox charge: If Thurman Thomas rushes for 100 yards, Belichick told the defensive players, we’ll win …

…On Sunday, Mangini used Belichick’s strategy against Belichick, and it kept the Jets in the game against the heavily-favored Patriots. The Jets wound up losing, 20-10 … but they may have uncovered a way to beat the undefeated, history-seeking Patriots.

Essentially, “Make the Patriots run the ball.” But Cimini’s theorem came with this proviso:

If the Jets had any offense whatsoever …

And so collapses the house of cards. Belichick plans for the team they’re playing, not the one they’re not. So the Jets’ lack of offense likely factored into their game plan. Moreover, when given the opening to run, the Pats - in contrast to say Mike Martz - ran, did so successfully, and won the game by two scores.

Cimini’s blueprint blew. Actually, all of them did. They were nothing more than basic football truisms trussed up as something revolutionary.

The Colts got an early lead and forced the Pats to play catchup. The Eagles blitzed heavily and effectively blanketed Randy Moss. The Ravens won physical matchups at the line of scrimmage. That each could do so successfully is more a tribute to that team’s execution than to any ingenious plan.

For all the supposed blueprints, how come none was ever used twice?

Here, then, is my submission for “How to Beat the Patriots”: do best what you don’t do best. That’s the one common thread among all the near-misses: success by teams’ second options.

The Patriots defense is far from dominant, but is proficient in taking away what teams like to do. They take away Brian Westbrook, forcing A.J. Feeley to try to beat them. Feeley made the best of the opportunity. They limit Peyton Manning, forcing the ball into Joseph Addai’s hands. Again, nearly fatally.

In the closest call of all, against the Ravens, the Pats failed at denying what the Ravens do best, and Willis McGahee ran wild.

Sunday, don’t be surprised to see strong numbers for the Chargers QB, whomever it will be, but in a double digit loss.

The Awful Truth

There are few true moments of clarity in our lifetimes, times when your mind opens itself up to some infinite truth. One hit me last Monday, standing in line at Disney World for an hour with my five-year-old, waiting for an autograph and picture from some pretty, anonymous actress in an Ariel costume, herself likely a dozen runny noses and greasy little hands away from giving up the dream and going back to grad school like Daddy suggested.

That ultimate truth revealed itself all at once: “Disney will always win in the end.”

No matter the measures you take - the hotel discounts, the knowing somebody who knows somebody who can get you in, discovering that doing the character breakfast means free parking - no matter what, Disney will find you, and they will make you pay.

Every year, the NFL finds itself a new suitor in the playoffs, the next big thing, the “team nobody wants to play.” An ultimate truth in the NFL is that the Patriots want to play that team. The Jaguars were this year’s playoff darling, and they were ripe for the kill: strong in areas the Pats were reportedly weak, with some modest success during the season, but very, very green.

In scenarios like that, the Patriots are Disney: they’ll always win in the end.

The pretenders have been weeded from the NFL playoffs. The Colts and Titans, with their “gentleman’s agreement” between Tony Dungy and Jeff Fisher to end their game expediently. The “Just Happy To Be Here” Cowboys, whose coach reportedly didn’t even game plan for the regular season finale. And these Jaguars, yappy posturers beguiled by their own press clippings.

The Jaguars are now patting themselves on the back that they “kept it competitive.” But that’s exactly what the Patriots want: opponents comforted by moral victories while relinquishing real ones.

delrio.jpg

Aha!

Randy Moss revealed what the Indy types suspected all along:

“You know, we’ve got a hellified offense here.”

The perfect season always did have a Faustian ring to it.

Eight Men In

logoby Dan Snapp
dan@patriotsdaily.com

They can’t call the Patriots a “team without stars” anymore. With eight men chosen for the Pro Bowl yesterday - seven of them starting - they’re manufacturing stars at a Dallas Cowboys rate.

Wait, scratch that; the Cowboys have 11 players going. America’s Team, Leading the League in Smiles.

Pro Bowls are always mixed blessings. You like the honor but you hate the game.

When you’re a kid, and you think every player on your team should go, it obviously means the most. For some years, it was the sole consolation, seeing probably one Patriot get honored in an otherwise cruddy year. You wait for that moment in the third quarter when your guy gets in, watch him run on a couple snaps, and that’s that. How sad the days we sat waiting for Rich Camarillo to punt.

Any awe the game once beheld has long since worn away. Yeah, it’s still nice to see the recognition, and you have to be happy for the Patriots first-timers Logan Mankins, Dan Koppen, Vince Wilfork, Mike Vrabel and Asante Samuel. It’s too bad the game never lives up to the honor.

There are other shortcomings, too. For the team, a Pro Bowl honor might be the first step out the door for that player. No longer is he your little secret, your diamond in the rough. And the way the voting always seems to work, for some players once you’re in, you’re in every year. Matt Light earned his second straight trip, and it’s easy to imagine Mankins and Wilfork earning multiple honors. So what’s Wilfork’s asking price now when it comes to renegotiation time?

The game itself, we could all do without. Face it, it’s the least enjoyable of any of the all-star games, league-decreed vanilla rules make it the least competitive, and you mostly spend your time hoping nobody get hurt in the meaningless affair.

The league needs to rethink this, from the marketing suicide of playing it a week after the season’s denouement all the way down to the garish Hawaiian shirts they’ve got the coaches wearing. Bill Belichick in a Hawaiian shirt makes one appreciate the hoodie.

Can’t we just have the honor and say screw having the game? Still send them to Hawaii, have an event, sign a few autographs, drink a few mai tais and come home. I suppose they could still have some sort of competition. Anything but beach volleyball.

Backgammon perhaps?

I suppose the thing to hope for is the day when your team’s players tire of the trip. They say how honored they are by it, but they need time to heal. The honor then goes to some alternate from some doormat team, whose young fans can now wait eagerly for that big third quarter series when their guy finally gets a few snaps.