I’ve been asked so many times over this past week or two about my opinion on Deflate-Gate. Can I first just say how stupid it is that anything that the media deems remotely “scandalous” now deserves the -gate suffix? It’s irritating.
Anyhow, I’ve expressed my feelings over time in 140 characters or less. I’ve laughed at some memes, called people out when they weren’t thinking rationally about the whole thing, but I haven’t written a blog about it. Well, for those asking, here you go:
Has anyone else gotten absolutely laid-out sick this winter? It seems something is going around – some sort of flu/cold hybrid that is resistant to the flu vaccine. Anyhow, I got it. I got it BAD. And I couldn’t run, much less get up off of the couch, because everything hurt. The medicines I was taking weren’t working to clear up my awful sinuses, so my head felt like it was being squeezed by a vice.
Have you been there? It’s terrible. And then, you fall out of your routine. You’re tired while you’re sick, and then when you’re on the mend, you’re tired from being sick. Meanwhile none of your responsibilities have gone away. As soon as you feel better, it’s back to work, school, etc. Heck, if you’re a parent, you don’t get the luxury of any days off. So your routine suffers. And you’re miserably tired, just trying to catch up on all the sleep you missed.
Plus, if you were sick over the holidays like I was, you still eat all the deliciousness put in front of you. You can’t move or go anywhere, so why not eat your mother-in-law’s homemade peanut butter butterscotch fudge rice krispie treats? Speaking from personal experience. They’re incredible, by the way. SO incredible.
Anyhow, when your doctor forbids you to run or exercise, it breaks the routine. And then I always find that the other pieces fall too. Like diet.
Has this ever happened to you? How do you get yourself back on track?
Let’s get this out of the way. I feel bad for Rex Ryan.
More on that later.
First, I wasn’t too thrilled with the Patriots for most of yesterday’s game. The offensive line, which seemed to have turned over a new leaf a few weeks ago, was right back to its old shenanigans. Also, the Jets defense was GOOD. Very good. Rex Ryan had our number, there. We allowed FOUR sacks in the first half. That is unacceptable.
But the Jets truly beat themselves here. They could have beat the Patriots. They really should have beat the Patriots. But after a third-down sack of Geno Smith, a random sideline argument between Rex Ryan and Marty Mornhinweg, and a partially blocked Nick Folk field goal, the Jets had put the final nail in their own coffin. Actually, the nail in the coffin for the Jets was that the Patriots properly used their timeouts and were able to wind down the clock and have Brandon Bolden convert on a 3rd and 1.
The Jets seemed to be in great shape after Marcus Williams’ interception at the Patriots’ 30 with 7:18 left in the 4th quarter. On 3rd and 4, the Patriots blitzed and sacked Geno Smith for a 10 yard loss. The line of scrimmage was at the 42, well within kicker Nick Folk’s range. The sack brought the Jets back to the 52-yard line, the upper limit of Nick Folk’s range. Then they had to waste a timeout because the play clock was winding down, and they stink at clock management. At 4:38, the Jets wasted another timeout on a replay challenge. In the final 1:55, Rex would have no timeouts left.
Does Rex Ryan ever agree with his offensive coordinators? Remember Brian Schottenheimer? Rex Ryan likes a run offense. They have always done better with the run offense. They have fared poorly when they use the pass offense. Why they hire OCs with a different approach is beyond me. If you can’t develop a good QB, stick with the run.
Back to my first point. I feel bad for Rex Ryan. Yes, his clock management isn’t great. Yes, he does a lot of it to himself. The man is a great leader, however, as evidenced by the players who will constantly go to bat for him. His first year as head coach, he sought to remove players from the distractions they faced on and off the field, and moved the practices to SUNY Cortland, away from the media attention. He tries to develop team chemistry and loves his players. But his execution skills have lacked as a Head Coach. I do think he is a good coach, but he needs something to work with. I could be the most talented potter in the world, but if you have me use Play-Doh as opposed to Sculpey, it probably won’t result in a masterpiece. The talent is there but the material will cause some limitations. I truly believe that is the case with Rex Ryan. As a Patriots fan, I love beating him, and as a football fan, I hope we play against him again as a Head Coach, wherever that may be.
Guys, something amazing happened to me this week. Well, a lot of amazing things actually.
First, I was selected to be on TLC’s newest bridal show.
But, this isn’t a bridal blog, so let’s talk about the craziest thing that happened to me that’s sports-related.
I tweeted a thank-you to Redskins RB Alfred Morris after his awesome performance last Monday evening led to me win my super-close Fantasy Football matchup. A couple of hours later, I received a tweet from Lenovo US thanking me for expressing my gratitude to Morris and asking me if I would like an autographed jersey. WOULD I EVER! How incredible! I was always taught to express gratitude as a child, and that is something I have continued as an adult, but never though I would be rewarded for it!
So, I am super pumped to receive my oddly heavy FedEx package this morning. I open the box, and a black box is at the edge. I’m thinking, “Oh, they must have sent a shadow box for me to put the jersey in.”
Nope. It was a freaking tablet. A TABLET.
More specifically, a brand new Lenovo Yoga 10 HD+ tablet. It is INSANE. INSANE. The graphics are amazing. The display is crystal-clear. The battery life is incredible. And there is NO better way to play NFL Fantasy Football. I was able to keep real-time tabs on my players while watching highlight videos and posting on Twitter.
I was also able to check out Tough Season, a video collaboration between Lenovo, the NFL and the Onion that is BEYOND hilarious. Seriously, you need to check it out here. And, while you’re there, sign up to become a Lenovo Fantasy Loyalist. You’ll have the chance (like me!) to win sweet gear signed by your favorite players and also be in the running for Fantasy Coach of the Year!
Thank you again to Lenovo for the jersey and the gorgeous tablet! Check out all of the amazing things Lenovo is doing in their partnership with the NFL!
If you’re a part-time blogger, you’ve no doubt experienced the “blahs” before. Most of us in blog world don’t blog full-time. There are a lucky few who make enough money from blogging to do it full-time and to them I tip my hat. I am not one of those people. I’d love to be, but I’m not at the current moment. I have a full-time job and a 120+ mile a day commute (yes, 60 miles each way) and by the time I get home, my brain is usually mush. I can’t imagine how bloggers who have kids do this. You are superheros. I have an apartment and a fiance, both of which require a medium level of upkeep, but nothing outrageous.
But sometimes, as much as I love sports, I just don’t want to write about it any more. I want to write about my other interests, too: furniture refinishing, style, weather, muscle cars, art… the list goes on and on. But, I have pigeon-holed myself into only writing about sports here, because what else could you write about when your blog is called pro SPORTS chick?
Plus, as much as I love writing, typing into a form on my computer generally gives me a case of ‘meh’. I would rather talk to people. In person.
Twitter is almost easier – 140 characters. I can opine on whatever I want, and it doesn’t take forever. Maybe it’s a societal thing. I feel like I’m sick of being on the computer, but if I have to be on it, I’d rather communicate in short bursts, then be able to log off and have a life. Checking comments, dealing with the rude jerks, it used to excite me, and now it just doesn’t anymore; and that is a real bummer.
But, this happens to us all at some point. We get bored, and we need to find a way to get un-bored. Sometimes that takes time. If you’re running a blog that provides a good living, that comes a lot easier because there is a paycheck connected to every post. I suppose you could reason that if I posted more, I could make a living off of this too. But, sports is all about having the information first, and where I work a full-time job, I can’t just post every time a story breaks. I am almost always late to the game. That sucks.
I am not giving up on PSC. I just need time to re-evaluate and get things together.
So, I apologize for the dearth of posts lately, and hope you’ll stick with me through this all.
Twas the night before football, when all through the hallway
Not a creature was stirring, not even a ball-boy.
The playbooks were stacked by the entry with care,
In hopes that St. Belichick soon would be there.
The players were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of nickel defenses danced in their heads.
And Papa in his jersey, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for the season’s first snap.
When out on the turf I heard something go BAM!,
I sprang from the bed to be met with Michael Sam.
“Men shouldn’t fear ME”, he said with a sigh and a scowl,
“Lock the ladies up tonight, ‘cuz Gronk’ is on the prowl”.
The moon on the breast of the new-painted field
Gave the lustre of mid-season showing no yield.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a gigantic blimp, with Kaepernick at the rear!
With a little old driver, so sullen and chill,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Bill.
More rapid than the Eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Brady! now, Woodhead! now, Vinatieri and Bell!
On, Dalton! On, Megatron! on , McCoy and Kenbrell!
To the top of the stadium! to the top of the wall!
Now play away! Play away! Play away all!”
As the parking lots fill and the beer cans go dry,
The fans will lift their hopeful eyes to the sky.
So up to the 300-level the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of run routes, and St. Belichick too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
What sounded like salsa dancing – is that Victor Cruz?
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Bill came with a bound.
He was dressed in a cutoff hoodie, and had socks up to his calves,
And his eyes were filled with regret from Super Bowls past.
A bundle of contracts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like Wilfork, ready for a snack.
His eyes-how they glared! his dimples, how scary!
His playbook was missing – this was about to get hairy!
His droll little mouth was drawn into a smirk,
And the hair on his head was filled with parking lot dirt.
He was smart as a whip yet incredibly kind,
As thoughts of Rodgers and Brees occupied his mind.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he yelled, like a bowlful of jelly!
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his prose,
And filled all the playbooks, with Xs and Os.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the stadium he rose!
He sprang to his blimp, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Football to all, and to all a good-night!”
A poet, I am not. But this heartily expresses how excited I am for this NFL season. I thought about using Goodell instead of Belichick at the helm of all the players, but he would have flagged/fined them all and then we’d have nothing
underneath our trees on our TVs tomorrow ;