Welcome to Running the Count Full. Those of you who followed me over from The Sports Blog (mostly because I sent you an e-mail begging you to) will recognize the name of the blog from my weekly theme articles over there. Well, since this site is all mine, and I can stick the gloves pretty much anywhere I want, I figured this would be a good name for this site, where we can push sports discussion to the limit, challenge the idiocy of mainstream media, bludgeon the indiscretions of the athletes we follow, and once in a blue moon, actually enjoy the glory of sport. Although a baseball term, this site will run the gamut on the four major sports, college and pro, and touch on some ancillary sports topics as well, but perhaps it's fitting that I'm launching just 10 days from pitchers and catchers. I can already smell the linseed oil. We won't have to wait long for meaningful baseball discussions this year either, as baseball's excuse to be worldly kicks off at the beginning of March with the World Baseball Classic. I don't know about you, but I'll be rooting for Mike Piazza, whose heartwarming patriotism toward Italy stands as a poignant example of what the word "asshole" means in the dictionary.
But, we can't get to a diamond without going through a gridiron (or so I just made up), and I'll start the blog off talking about last night's sports viewing experience, one that can only be described as surreal.
Super Bowl Sunday is a national holiday. It's bigger than Valentine's Day, Arbor Day, Flag Day, MLK Day, President's Day, and it would be bigger than Memorial and Labor Day but for the fact that most of us get a 3-day weekend out of those. It's another excuse to party in a country always looking for an "excuse" to party, instead of just doing it guilt-free like the rest of the world does.
In tuning in for the last hour or two of the pre-game last night, after setting up our second big screen on the bar (because for 8 people, one big screen is apparently not enough), I found one common theme flowing through the entire day. Nobody involved looked like they belonged doing what they were doing. It started with the introduction of the previous Super Bowl MVPs -- a veritable Who's Who of football history, until of course guys like the Cowgirl's Larry Brown were introduced. Brown had a look on his face that said, "Damn, I know these people are just wondering why they're introducing the Knicks coach with the Super Bowl MVPs." It went on from there to a disturbing rendition of the national anthem, where Aretha Franklin, Aaron Neville and some strange guy I've never heard of did about as much for the reputation of the Star Spangled Banner as malaria did for the misquito. Following that debacle was the ever-popular, oft-wagered upon coin toss. Apparently, whoever was supposed to do it forgot to show up, because when Tom Brady ended up at the stadium because he forgot he wasn't playing this year, they just grabbed him because they figured he'd have a good enough arm to get it up in the air. And as that occurred, I looked at the captains....can someone tell me what Sean Morey was doing staring down the Seahawks at midfield of the Super Bowl? Honestly, read that sentence again. Go ahead. I'll wait. Read that sentence again. NOTHING about that sentence makes any sense!
As if that weren't enough, they actually let these two teams play football, and what occurred was sloppier than Star Jones after being locked in a freezer for a week. Disregarding the play where Big Ben scrambled and had the wherewithal to know where the line of scrimmage was before chucking up a dying quail that was begging to be picked off, he was God awful. In the first half, Pittsburgh's offense was more offensive than 2 Live Crew in the Banned in the USA days. And Seattle, who I'm about to defend when I get to the real mess of this game, should not be defended because Hasselback and Holmgren, at the end of BOTH halves, made Donovan McNabb and Andy Reid's exercise in retardation look like Patton and McArthur charging on the Germans. What in the HELL was going on when Hasselback decided to go to Page 349 of the playbook to audible with less than 20 seconds left in the half? How is it humanly possible for them to go into the locker room with a timeout still tucked in their shorts? I find the whole thing dumbfounding.
So, the football was about as well played as, well, every other NFL game this season (save a few) -- sloppy, undisciplined, neurotic, erratic, and just plain bad for that level. But the football wasn't the worst thing on the field. I'm only going to touch on it briefly because cruising around the net, I see that it's been touched on by plenty, but the officiating in this game was atrocious, and the fact that every call bordering on controversy went toward Pittsburgh is an anomaly I'd rather ignore to save my fragile love of the purity of sports.
I hear people talking about the blatantly obvious Matt Hasselback "cut block"/tackle, and how 15 officials can be on the field without seeing that he didn't touch anyone else is beyond me. But to me, it all starts in the first quarter with the most ticky-tack offensive pass interference penalty I've ever witnessed in my life. How that flag comes out against Darrell Jackson is a wonder on scale with the Hanging Gardens of Babylonia and the Colossus of Rhodes. That play was huge. With Pittsburgh playing more like the University of Pittsburgh instead of the Steelers, Seattle needed to capitalize more often.
On a night when the terrible towels waved in abundance at what is supposed to be a neutral site, the most terrible towels of all, and the same color to boot, came from the pockets of zebras. As Hasselback charged down the field for the go ahead score in the 4th quarter and hit his tight end Jeremy "Hey Porter, Carry my Bags" Stevens at the 4 yard line, the weight of never having contributed much more than weird coffee, grunge music and the industry that sprung an IPO craze that caused the economy to eventually drop through the floor, lifted from Seattle's shoulders. However, being a gentleman, and seeing that Seattle had dropped something, the ref picked that weight back up and bashed it over their heads with that horrendous holding call on Sean Locklear.
The whole thing's a scam, a sham, and the NFL should be embarrassed that this group was apparently the best they could supply for the biggest single sporting event in the world each year. You would think for its popularity, it would have the resources to produce better. But then again, had it done so, there just might have been a parade in Seattle today or tomorrow, and hell, nobody likes a parade in the rain.
Please come back and visit and feel free to click on any ads on the way out...it's like throwing coins into the blind mans coffee mug!!!
