By Ryan McGowan
THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 2004, 8:04 PM: We’re live from Gillette Stadium in scenic Foxboro, Massachusetts. Well, we’re not actually live from there, we’re live from my living room in the just-as-scenic Oak Square neighborhood in Boston. But we can pretend we’re in the Big Razor tonight for opening night of the 2004 NFL season between the defending Super Bowl champion New England Patriots and last year’s AFC Championship finalists, the Indianapolis Colts.I’m here with my two roommates, Scott (“The Dillman”) and Beth (“Ace”). We’re expecting two more, Jarrod (“J-Rod”) and Jennifer (“The Lovely Better Half” or LBH). Hey, Bill Simmons isn’t the only guy from Boston whose friends all have unique nicknames. Oh, and my roommates have requested that I use this space to make it known that they are both very single and very available.
8:17 – The Dillman makes the first sarcastic comment of the night, heckling me for not being able to come up with my own original material and being forced to regurgitate the Sports Guy’s cliched ideas. Almost immediately, I respond with the first threat of a Pabst Blue Ribbon poured down the back of his neck for retaliation. Oh, it’s going to be a good night.
8:19 – The posh pregame show (on a 10-second delay of course) is picking up steam, with Destiny’s Child raking in the oohs and aahs on stage. All I can think of is that somewhere my brother Justin is drunk and has paid a security guard $20 to sneak into the stadium for standing room. Speaking of Beyonce, I learned yesterday (special thanks to Ace for her subscription to Us magazine, for where else would you learn this) that Beyonce partied with the Olsen Twins in NYC last week at her 23rd birthday party. 23rd birthday! Jeez, the chick is 23 and she’s already been an iconic pop/hip-hop singer, been the romantic fantasy for an entire generation’s worth of angst-ridden white guys, had relations with Jay-Z, and shagged Austin Powers as Foxxy Cleopatra! In contrast, when I was 23, I was preoccupied with trips to Benny’s in North Attleboro to find affordable ping-pong balls to use for beer pong, and wondering where one could buy a sombrero for a Cinqo de Mayo party. (Although I’m not sure how that really differs from my life now at 26.) To each his own, I guess.
8:23 – The commercial for Mark Cuban’s new reality show, “The Benefactor” comes on. Is there any owner in sports that you love to see when he’s around, but constantly thank God that he doesn’t own one of your teams, more than Cuban? He’s the kind of guy who would buy the Patriots, and then make every seat at Gillette padded with heat coils, ensure that unlimited Cristal is on ice at all times, and insist that the players not be required to practice with full pads because it would be “dangerous to his investments.” He would single-handedly be the most popular (with the players) and least successful owner in the NFL. There’s a reason why his talented Mavericks teams have won jack since he’s been there: they are too soft because he lets them be. Not a coincidence.
8:26 – George Lopez (the host of the pregame show, though I am unsure how anyone aspires to this position) appears on screen wearing a putrid Hawaiian shirt that looks as if 100 women alternately kissed it while wearing lipstick, then drank red Kool-Aid and purged it all out on the rest of the shirt. Not a flattering look for George. Maybe he thought this was the Pro Bowl, but there are too many haoles in the stands for this to be Honolulu in February.
8:27 – Dillman: “Elton John? What’s the NFL thinking? He’s more likely to take his shirt off than Beyonce is.”
8:29 – Apparently the First Reformed Baptist Church of Savannah’s choir is singing along with Elton John and the Pops. Does anyone besides me ever think things like, “I wonder if Keith Lockhart of the Pops is related to the Keith Lockhart who was a utility infielder for the Atlanta Braves in the mid-to-late 90’s” and speaking of that, has anyone ever seen the two Keith Lockharts in the same room at the same time?
Also, I wonder if all the pregame performers stay for the game once their part of the show is over. If so, where do they sit? I can’t imagine Elton John and Beyonce would be happy with sideline seats, since they would have a hard time seeing over the players, reporters, sound guys, etc. Do season-ticket holders in the lower sections get bumped so Beyonce can sit in the fourth row at the 50-yard line? You’d see some CEO who paid thousands and thousands of dollars for these season tickets, standing up in SRO with my brother and his posse, muttering to himself, “F-ing Chuck Norris.” (If you haven’t seen Dodgeball, disregard the last sentence.)
8:31 – Ace is on a roll right now. First, she has been packing for her white-water rafting trip in Maine this weekend, which is comical in and of itself. She packs this sleeping bag which allegedly can withstand -10 degree temperatures (even though it is still late summer) and puts on this ridiculous head lamp that has a Velcro strap and starts walking around the house like Jon Voight in Zoolander. Then she randomly informs us that last night’s dinner consisted of a cup of yogurt and a rum and coke, while tonight’s feast is of popcorn and rum and coke. And this is a girl who ran the marathon in 2000 in a very respectable time and now smokes a pack a day. (Earlier, after a 3-mile run, Ace came in and immediately grabbed a cigarette, all the while insisting that her first instinct when she came in was to get water, not a butt.) Yes, these are my roommates.
8:37 – A commercial comes on for Napoleon Dynamite, easily the funniest movie I’ve seen since Old School. “There’s like a butt-load of gangs at this school. One of them asked me to join because I’m pretty good with a bow staff.” Just pure comedy. Highly recommended if you enjoy pointless, random laughs.
8:39 – J-Rod joins the party, walking in triumphantly in a #90 Dan Klecko jersey. You have to love Pats fans and the jerseys they will buy and wear. Hell, my brother Patrick owns a game-worn Eric Washington #41 Celtics jersey, who had a 10-day contract in `97, and I once owned a Red Sox #15 Marc Sullivan (son of former co-owner Haywood Sullivan) back in the mid-80’s. Currently in the room, the following jerseys are represented: blue Klecko, silver Rodney Harrison #37, blue Brady #12, and blue Ty Warren #94. I have a white Brady and a Richard Seymour #93 AFC Pro Bowl jersey in reserve if anyone else shows up.
8:44 – Almost on cue, Jennifer (LBH) walks in, goes directly to my bottom drawer and pulls out the Seymour jersey. When she enters the living room proudly wearing #93, I contemplate a spontaneous marriage proposal, but I hold back, not wanting to steal the thunder from the real momentous occasion of the night…
8:48 – … the unveiling of the 2003 championship banner! Bob Kraft appears to be preaching from a pulpit to a horde of worshipping believers, Jonathan Edwards-style. (For those of you not up on your Puritan-era literature, Jonathan Edwards was a fire-and-brimstone Puritan preacher and writer, not a North Carolinian ex-trial lawyer and former neighbor of mine running for Vice President.) The team comes out for the ceremony, prompting me to inquire whether they invited the players and coaches from last year’s team that are no longer with them, like Ted Washington and Rob Ryan (now playing and coaching, respectively, for Oakland), or any other schmoe who got cut or traded after the season. Technically, shouldn’t they be invited? How awkward is the five minutes in the tunnel waiting to come out for the unveiling, when Belichick and Big Teddy are catching up? “Hey Ted.” “Hey Coach.” “How are things?” “Good.” “How’s Norv?” “Good.” “Tell him I said hi.” “OK.” Oh, to be a fly on the wall in that tunnel.
8:53 – I realize that the last time the Patriots played the Colts, it was possibly the coldest day of my life. We were bundled up for the -15 degree wind chill fiasco, eating free hot dogs and drinking watered-down PBR pitchers at the Wave in Waltham. It just doesn’t seem the same to be sweating from Atlanta-esque humidity, wearing shorts, and pumping AC for a Pats-Colts game that feels like it should be taking place in January.
8:54 – Dillman: “Why can’t it snow tonight? It should snow 16 times a year, only on Pats game days. Since Kraft has Mother Nature on the payroll, it could happen.”
8:55 – Game time is almost here! Mary J. Blige is singing the Anthem, and ABC just cut to a closeup of Tedy Bruschi, breathing heavily, nostrils flared, eyebrows pinched, looking very much like he could easily snap and twist someone’s eyes out of their sockets at the slightest provocation. That’s a good sign; anytime Bruschi is ready to play (which is basically any time he is on the field), good things happen for the Pats. Dillman points out that Bruschi is starting for his fantasy team (Patriots Nation) this week; Ace appears noticeably distraught. Apparently she doesn’t like when we talk about our “points” and our fantasy teams. It’s ok, Ace, only 16 more weekends (and then playoffs) to put up with it, then we can go back to normalcy (of talking about who we are going to draft NEXT year).
8:57 – Ace: “Someone call the coroner, quick, Mary’s killing `em.” Ace always comes up with the best times to insert random but appropriate Method Man lyrics into real life situations.
9:10 – I missed the opening kickoff because I had to go into my office to get a new pen. Damn archaic technology. Brady completes a pass to David Givens, who was lined up as a tight end in an empty backfield set. I love when Charlie Weis decides to go no-huddle, empty backfield to start the game.
I think one of the weaknesses to an empty backfield set is that it is vulnerable to a blitz, as most teams build in blitz protection packages which make a running back responsible for certain uncovered gaps. But Brady and his receivers are so good at making blitz adjustments; receivers will bend their routes into the “hot” zones and Brady will calmly deliver the ball to the spot where the defender vacated. I still think he is underrated and doesn’t get enough credit for the success of the Patriots over the last few years. More to come on that in a future column.
It makes sense, too, to open up in an empty set, with Corey Dillon the only real running back on the active roster for the game. No way Dillon was going to carry the ball 40 times today, so why not spread the Colts out a little bit, see how they line up and adjust, and then go from there?
9:12 – Mike Doss of the Colts announces in the player intros that he attended “THE Ohio State University.” I wish an injury on him at this very moment. No offense to any OSU grads who might be reading this (assuming that they graduate literate students, not necessarily all Katzenmoyer-esque Buckeye gridders) but the tradition of calling OSU “THE” Ohio State University is one of the worst things going in sports, right there with the Waving While Talking on Cell Phone people, the new “Holding an Eligible Receiver” rule, and the near-obsessive throng of yellow BC “SuperFans” shirts that the undergrads wear around campus. I mean, don’t these kids have any other clothing? Most of them come from pretty affluent families, I am sure they can afford more shirts that don’t make you look like a rejected extra in a Blind Melon video.
Fast forward ahead: 9:23 – Ty Law introduces himself as from “El Aquippa High School.” Good for you, Ty. Stick it to The Man. If I ever get on the radio or TV, I will definitely introduce myself as “Ryan McGowan, Sports Writer, School Street Elementary School.” Hey, you gotta show love to the alma maters.
Fast forward again: 10:02 – Mike Doss is being carried off the field with a bad knee injury. Maybe I made him into my own personal voodoo doll. I wonder who else I could try that on. Alex Rodriguez, I wish an injury on you. Derek Jeter, I wish an injury on you. Kevin Brown, I wish an injury on you… oh wait…
9:13 – First shot of Tony Dungy on the sideline, hours after we learned that his wife has suffered a collapsed lung back in Indianapolis. First of all, it’s got to take some balls to learn that your wife had a collapsed lung, and then stay in Foxboro and coach the game. I mean, Tony is pretty much setting himself up either for one of the biggest wins of his coaching career, or the end of his marriage as he knows it. It has to be one or the other, right? He mu I don’t know how serious Mrs. Dungy’s condition is, and I of course wish no ill will on anyone, but if she ends up okay, and Tony comes back to Indy having lost to the Patriots, imagine the conversation at the dinner table.
“Hi, honey…. Ummm…. How are you feeling?”
“Oh, just great, Tony. I am so glad you came back to see me. By the way, a-hole, did you hear I had a COLLAPSED FREAKING LUNG! I was rushed to INTENSIVE CARE for a COLLAPSED LUNG! And YOU stayed in NEW ENGLAND for a freaking FOOTBALL GAME! And you DIDN’T EVEN WIN! Are you INSANE?”
(Best of luck to his wife; I’d hate to see Tony Dungy have to go through a gut-punch loss to the Patriots on national TV, and then have to go home to Indiana to explain himself to his wife. One of those times when I’m really glad I’m not married.)
9:21 – The Colts open up with three consecutive running plays. Dillman: “What, did you guys switch playbooks before the game?” I am reminded of the Brady Bunch episode where Greg gives a phony Westdale High playbook to the kid who played for the rival school. Wouldn’t it be great if Belichick “accidentally” left a Patriots playbook in the visiting locker room, and some Colts special teamer found it and brought it to Manning and Dungy? “Uhhhhhh, Coach…… uhhhhh…. I don’t really know where this came from… but it was in my locker… maybe you want to look at it?”
I wouldn’t put it past Belichick. If that doesn’t work, there’s always the other Greg Brady trick of stealing the other team’s mascot. If the Colts brought a goat to the game, and it ended up painted red, white, and blue with a Pats logo on its side, that would be the ultimate NFL prank. I wonder if these things really go on.
9:24 – Why are they bringing the chains out? Can’t they see the yellow line? While we’re at it, has there been anything (with the possible exception of the running count/score/outs/men on base line at the top of the screen for baseball games) that has enhanced the viewing experience of a sporting event more than the yellow line? It is well worth the $40,000 or so that it costs the network each time they use it for a game. I couldn’t imagine watching a game without it now, and it’s another reason why I could much rather stay home and watch the NFL than shell out the big bucks to sit in the freezing cold (albeit in a comfortable seat in a nice stadium) and be forced to watch a game that doesn’t include the yellow line. I won’t stand for it.
9:30 – Corey Dillon gets his first carry of the season for four yards. J-Rod: “4.0 yards a carry. Better than Antowain.” You gotta love Pats fans.
9:31 – Dillman: “Is Cedric Cobb on the IR or the PUP (Physically Unable to Perform) list? I think I almost ended up on the PUP list the night I was hammered at our housewarming party.” Too much information.
9:39 – End of first quarter, Pats 3, Colts 0. Time to put in Mientkiewicz, Kapler, and Reese to preserve the lead.
9:45 – Mike Vanderclown, the “Druken Idiot Kicker” puts in a field goal for the Colts, and I feel supremely guilty because I drafted him in fantasy league this year. I don’t think there’s ever a worse feeling of conflict when one of your fantasy players scores against your favorite team. I am hoping for 18 points out of the Colts, on six field goals, and at least 24 out of the Pats, none by Deion Branch (who my opponent has starting).
Fast forward to 10:07 – No such luck. Touchdown, Brady to Branch. Half of me says, “YES!” The other half of me curses him for not throwing the ball to Givens or Patten.
9:58 – Edgerrin James runs through the Pats defense like Moses through the Red Sea, and Domanick Rhodes gets to punch it in for a TD. If I had Edge in fantasy, I’d be pissed right now. Oh wait, my opponent has him. Scratch that. Go Rhodes!
10:02 – Dillon breaks one for 38 yards. Dillman, Happy Gilmore-style: “Uh oh…. Looks like SOMEBODY learned how to run the ball!” Ace, on Corey Dillon: “He looks a little bit like a turtle.”
10:06 – I just realized that my girlfriend has been dead asleep on the other couch for at least a half hour without me noticing. I guess I should take the time here to remind all our female readers that it’s football season and the men in your life will be otherwise preoccupied until sometime around January or February. You can either ignore it, go into hibernation yourself, or come with us for the ride. It’s up to you.
10:11 – OK, I’ve tried to ignore it, but nothing could possibly be more stupid than the Tribute to Mia Hamm commercial. If I see one more idiotic “Thanks for going overseas,” “Thanks for playing in America,” and “Thanks, beautiful,” I’m going to lose my dinner. Speaking of Nomar, has any athlete in Boston fallen from such intense popularity to such apparent disdain faster than #5? As recently as late June, I wrote about how Nomar’s return was a fun, joyous moment for the Boston fans who appreciate him, and now it’s September and I have to listen to “Thanks, Beautiful” from the guy of whose likeness I wanted to build a statue had we won the World Series last year. Good luck, Nomar, don’t let the door catch the back of your leg and slice open your Achilles on the way out.
10:27 – I think I’ve seen it all in football. Trying to stop the clock, Brady spiked the ball off his center’s ass, and it was almost ruled a fumble and a touchdown for the Colts. Instead, it’s ruled an incomplete pass, Icewater Vinatieri comes out, and he nails a FG to cut the deficit to 17-13 at the half. The referee cites some obscure rule as to why it wasn’t a fumble. Maybe the rules are different in the NFL, but at every level of football I’ve been involved in, that would have been ruled either a fumble, or an illegal touch by an ineligible receiver, depending on the referee’s judgment. God bless the NFL and their blatantly offensively biased rulebook.
10:30 – OK, it’s halftime, my Harrison jersey is making me sweat, my hand is getting tired from writing so many notes, and my girlfriend is getting agitated because I am paying more attention to my notebook and my observations than her obvious need for a glass of water. Plus I’m already 3,400 words deep. I’ll end here and watch the rest of the game with a numb hand. (Get your minds out of the gutter.)
11:58 – Post-script. Great play by McGinest and great miss by Vanderchoke to end the game. Great opening week win, 27-24. Time to peel Jennifer off the couch and clean up the PBR bottles on the counter. On to Arizona…
