The Return of Sunday Fever

For some reason, I always try to think if there is anything bad about football season. There's the Dolphins. There's my consistently-in-first-place fantasy team. There's no more baseball (not to me, anyway). When you force yourself to dig deeper, however, there is one con that comes along with the plethora of pros. Sunday fever.

Sunday's are so fun, so exhilarating, so perfect, that they make all the other days of the week seem a little less appealing. That's not to say they're bad, as I still get to play for my own football team throughout the week and watch college football on Saturday. But the stretch between Monday and Saturday during NFL season typically seems like a 6-day countdown period on my inner calendar.

Every Sunday, a bunch of my friends come over to watch the NFL. My house has DIRECTV's Sunday NFL Ticket, granting us access to every game, every Sunday. The NFL on Sunday to us is like candy on Halloween to the normal American child. We live for it. We have one game on in the den, another on in the playroom, and others being followed closely on our laptops. (As the host, and therefore remote control user, I have the constant struggle of keeping everyone happy.)

There is always trash talk about who's beating who in fantasy and whose favorite NFL team sucks the most. There's nonstop cheering, like when Calvin Johnson comes down with a spectacular catch in the end-zone, and there's disgust that follows when the ref proclaims he never controlled the ball.

Every Sunday is an event. From 1-11:30 there is NFL football. If only the other days of the week could be like that...

-Robby

Exiled

In Robby's most recent post, he lamented that for Sunday's Jets-Dolphins game (notice he refers to it as a Dolphins-Jets game), he and his brother Matt will be exiled to the playroom to watch, while Greg and I remain in the comfort of the den. At first blush, this type of quarantine might seem harsh.

Allow me to explain.

First I want to tell you about the way Greg and I watch a Jets-Dolphins game if Robby and Matt are in the room with us. Let's say the rejuvenated LaDainian Tomlinson breaks one for a 67-yard TD. Greg and I would cheer, fist-bump . . . and then settle down. We wouldn't gloat because a.) we're gentlemen, and b.) if we did, someone would have to call the men in white coats carrying strait jackets for Robby and Matt. Now if something unfortunate happened for the Jets -- let's say Mark Sanchez throws a pick to Dolphins DB Vontae Davis, Greg and I would exchange disheartened looks -- and then move on and wait for Gang Green to regain possession.

In other words, we watch the game like civilized human beings.

Now let's look at Robby and Matt. (Btw, that's the two of them, top right, at a Dolphins-49ers game in Miami in 2008.) Let's say a Dolphin makes a great play, one that involves a noticeable Jets screw-up -- maybe a Cameron Wake sack resulting in a Sanchez fumble. There's Matt jumping up and down on the green couch -- literally bouncing so high that his head is almost hitting the ceiling beams -- shouting JETS SUCK! at the top of his lungs. There's Robby parading around the den, pumping his fist, pronouncing Sanchez by far the worst QB in NFL history, and the Jets the stupidest team ever for wasting a first-round draft pick on him.

If something bad happens for the Fins -- say Ricky Williams fumbles in the red zone -- Matt will yell "F_ _ _!" and then stomp out of the den, slamming the door behind him. And Robby? Robby will throw a pillow full force at the TV, struggle to breathe as if he's having a stroke, bury his face in the couch, and then announce that Williams (at one time his favorite player, after whom his beloved beagle is named) should be cut -- or better yet, just taken out and shot.

So yes, on Sunday Greg and I will watching in the den, and Robby and Matt will be in their padded cell -- the playroom.

Let the game begin . . .

-Hank

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The Most Exhilarating Game

Before I get to the main topic of my post, let us all rejoice in the fact that Dolphins-Jets week has arrived. As mentioned several times in this blog, these matchups create a Civil War-like atmosphere in the Herman household. My brother Matt and I are exiled to the playroom to root for the Fins while my brother Greg and my dad sit quietly in the den and watch in disgust.

Unfortunately, all Brandon Marshall-Darrelle Revis trash talk will be set aside as news came out today that Revis is very doubtful to play this Sunday night. (I found it very interesting that Revis "coincidentally" injured his hamstring on the same play that he was torched by Randy Moss.)

These games are even more important to me than the typical Dolphins game, as divisional standing, and more importantly, bragging rights are on the line.

However, after watching the Dolphins offense do everything in its power to hand a win to the Vikings this Sunday before having the defense historically salvage the game, I realized that I'm a nervous wreck during every game of the season. And although that may not seem too great to the casual fan, I think the cruciality of every single game is what makes the NFL the best league America has to offer.

You see, it's not like baseball, where each game is merely 1/162 of the season. When the Mets lose, who cares? They have 161 more chances. That's not the case in the NFL. Every playoff race comes down to one game, making every game a must-win. It's a common cliche for NFL coaches, but wins are sacred in this league, even ones against the Bills.

When Ricky Williams fumbled on the Dolphins 2-yard-line, shifting the momentum squarely in the Vikings favor, I said to my mom, "That could've just ended our season." And while she laughed it off, it's true. Everything can be decided in one week, whether it's Week 1 or Week 17. What could be better than that as a fan?

Each game can be nauseating; I feel like the Vikings game took five years off my life. And a fan's body can take a physical toll as well. (My hand is still numb from punching the wall after the refs botched a Roughing the Kicker call.) But the gratitude of every single win is what makes this league so beautiful.

Now bring on the Jets.

-Robby

Great news! OLD SCHOOL, NEW SCHOOL has been picked up by Hearst Connecticut Media Group and will appear on the websites of the Connecticut Post, Stamford Advocate, Greenwich Time, and Danbury News-Times. Check it out here.

10-9

I got home at 12:50 AM after my first game -- and the Jets first game -- at the New Meadowlands Stadium, and was greeted by five separate notes left on the kitchen counter:
- Good season for Jenkins!
- Shonn Greene is awful!
- Kyle Wilson is even worse!
- But . . . nothing compares to . . .
- 10-21 for 74 yards, and 1-11 on third down! J-E-T-S SUCK, SUCK, SUCK!

Hey, let Robby have his fun. He's right -- it wasn't pretty. (I should have known it wouldn't be the Jets' night when my son Greg's friend said she knew a shortcut from White Plains to the Meadowlands, and 45 minutes later we were in . . . White Plains.) We got penalized maybe 18 times for about 780 yards. We dropped what seemed like 12 passes, even though we only had the ball for approximately four minutes all night. The Ravens handed us scoring opportunities on a silver platter, and we said no thanks. Our offense was about as adventurous as a third grade Pop Warner team.

But I'm not gonna kill myself. And here's why. We played a team that just about everyone has anointed as a Super Bowl contender, we stunk up the field -- and we still only lost by a point.

Greg, my Jets-fan son, and I (that’s the two of us in the photo, taken, obviously, with the Jets still ahead) looked at this game as a wake-up call for our team and our coaching staff. We can't put it all on the "D" to single-handedly win games for us on. We can't shove Greene on the bench and leave him there to rot because he fumbles once. We've got to take the handcuffs off Sanchez and let him play; that's what we drafted him for.

Yeah, Robby, enjoy -- the Jets are 0-1 and tied for last place. But we lost 10-9 to an actual football team. The Dolphins beat the Bills -- and just barely.

The schedule says we play you guys down in Miami in Week Three. Let's talk then . . .

-Hank

Great news! OLD SCHOOL, NEW SCHOOL has been picked up by Hearst Connecticut Media Group and will appear on the websites of the Connecticut Post, Stamford Advocate, Greenwich Time, and Danbury News-Times. Check it out here.

Come On, Ravens

Here we are, one day into the NFL season, and sure enough, the Dolphins are ahead of the Jets in the AFC East standings. Naysayers will point to the fact that the Jets haven't even played a game yet, but that's just a small detail to me.

Like my dad has referred to in several of his posts, I hate the Jets. He thinks I care more about the Jets losing than the Dolphins winning. And while nothing is better than putting a tally in the W column for the Fins, a close second is definitely watching the Jets get pummeled.

For most of my life, the Patriots were my team to hate. They won Super Bowls, they had a pretty boy quarterback, they cheated. They were everything a rival fan dreaded. But the thing is, they walked the walk without even talking the talk. Belicheck's crew never said anything that remotely resembled bulletin board material, and they still went out every Sunday and punished people.

The new-look Jets are completely on the other side of the spectrum. Ever since Rex Ryan took the reins in New York, any attempts at being a classy organization have flown out the window. They are already this year's self-proclaimed Super Bowl Champions before having stepped on the field. That's fine with me. It's usually the defending Super Bowl Champs that have a target on their backs all year, but now Ryan has planted one on his own.

Tonight, the Jets begin another season of mediocrity at home against the Ravens. Ray Lewis shares my thoughts about Big Rex: "The only danger it can be is writing the check that you can't cash. Rex can talk all he wants to. Rex isn't putting on pads. So that's pressure on his players. If it's pressure and his players respond to that then let them respond. At the same time, you put that bull's-eye on your team's head."

My dad and brother will be at the game tonight, and they were already talking about what CD they should listen to on the ride home. I don't think they'll be in the mood for music. Lewis and the Ravens are going to punish the Jets tonight, and they'll be planted next to the Bills in the standings.

Lewis went on to say, "They're doing all this talking. They're in the Super Bowl. OK. Do what you do. Come Monday night no matter what you do, the whistle has got to blow and somebody has to get hit."

I can't wait to see it.

-Robby

Next Stop, Revis Island

It's 6:15 on a Monday morning -- Labor Day, in fact -- and I'm helping Robby get out the door for his scrimmage. High school football coaches particularly like to do two things: (1) Yell very loudly at their players, and (2) "get them prepared." One form of "getting them prepared" is having them at the field by 6:30 for a 9 AM scrimmage.

Even at this early hour, with neither of us truly functioning, Robby's on the internet, checking espn.com -- or whatever it is he checks -- in his never-ending quest for that critical fantasy advantage.

"Revis signed," he says glumly, never lifting his eyes from the screen.

And so begins the best Labor Day ever for me and the rest of Jets Nation. Revis' summer-long holdout is over! The Jets best-in-the-NFL defense is back intact! Yeah, sure, Kyle Wilson's been looking good in the pre-season, and Jets fans have been talking the talk of winning without Revis -- but that was all whistling in the dark. The truth of the matter is without #24, any plans for a Super Bowl appearance are dead in the water. To me, Revis was so key that I named my Survival Football entry after him. Prior to Labor Day, it was called NO REVIS, NO PROBLEM. As soon as Robby gave me the news, I changed it to NEXT STOP, REVIS ISLAND. (For an insightful take on the naming of fantasy teams, please see my oldest son Matt’s Sept. 1 post, “What’s In a Name?,” in his FOOTBALL VS. GIRLFRIEND blog.)

While for me this was like Christmas in early September, for Robby, it was his worst nightmare. Yeah, he'd been sky-high about his Dolphins taking on the Bills in Week One. He'd been crowing for months about how B-Marsh would be by far and away the best receiver in NFL history, how Henne was ready to step up as a truly elite quarterback -- and he liked all the positive hype his team was getting from the ESPN talking heads. But when you boiled it down, two things really got his juices going.

The first was mocking Mark Sanchez. Back in July, when my middle son Greg (quick review of the family dynamics: Greg and I are the Jets fans; oldest son Matt and Robby are the Dolphins fans; Carol claims to be for the Dolphins to appease Robby, but we all know she just roots for whatever result will promote family harmony and peace on earth) was in Anaheim for the MLB All-Star game and had the opportunity to hang with Sanchez, Robby kept bugging him to put Sanchez on the phone. Greg, of course, had the good sense to refuse. He knew, and I knew, that if Robby got on the line with Sanchez, all he'd talk about would be how Sanchez threw three picks to the Pats' Leigh Bodden in one game last season.

And the second, of course, was the Revis holdout. Sorry, Robby. Bummer.

In my last post, I mentioned that it looked like Greg might be able to get me in to the first game at the New Meadowlands Stadium -- Jets vs. Ravens in a Monday Night matchup of Super Bowl hopefuls -- and it turns out he came through! So look for the two of us at the Meadowlands Monday night. I'll bring the sausages, the burgers, and the Foreman grill. Greg'll bring the tickets. And we'll both by wearing our Revis jerseys.

-Hank

Change I Wish We Could Believe In

All right -- college football is finally here. As I'm sure you could guess, I've been waiting a long time for this weekend. There's nothing better than watching college football -- except, of course, watching NFL football. And that's just five days away.

As the college football season kicks off, I need to take a minute to point out just one thing that stands in the way of perfection. Of course, I'm talking about the way the so-called "National Champion" is crowned.

In my book, hard work should lead to success. Enough success should lead to the opportunity to prove one’s supremacy in that field of work. Unfortunately, that blueprint is crumpled up and tossed out the window in the college football world. Year after year, teams put in the work. Year after year, teams win every game on their schedule. And year after year, these teams are left out of the National Championship game.

Right now the college football regular season is followed by 30+ bowl games, including the National Championship game. It’s great that so many teams are able to participate in some form of a postseason, but the top programs are truly all fighting to win the big one, and right now, they aren’t always given a real chance to do so. In fairness to the players, coaches, and fans, some of these bowls need to be replaced with a playoff system in which a true champion can be determined on the field, not by a computer or selection committee.

Even President Obama says "We need a playoff. I don't know any serious fan of college football who has disagreed with me on this."

People against creating a playoff point out that weeks would have to be added to the end of the season. While this is valid, it could be solved by eliminating some of the non-conference games at the beginning of the year.

Another downside would be that the regular season would lose some of its intensity, as teams would have more room for error. However, with a playoff system that includes 8 or 16 teams, it would still be incredibly competitive to earn a bid, and losing more than one or two games could be enough to leave a team home.

The 2008 Utah team is a prime example of a team that was cheated by the system. The Utes won all 13 games of their tough schedule, including an upset victory over Alabama in the Sugar Bowl, but finished the year ranked #2 overall, forced to watch Florida win the National Championship on TV.

Coach Kyle Whittingham was left in disbelief that his team wasn’t given a chance to achieve their goal. Utah won every game it played, and deserved to be considered the #1 team in the land.

With an 8 or 16 team playoff system, a true champion would be crowned while the other teams could still participate in the remaining bowl games. Otherwise, a lot of future players, coaches, and fans will be put in Utah’s shoes, and those aren’t too comfortable.

- Robby