Before we start handing out NFL postseason awards faster than the Arizona Cardinals can kick a coach to the curb, a few notes from a short winter break for the JQ.
1. "Rocky Balboa." A reviewer for one of the local weekly newspapers gave Stallone's latest palooka opus "****1/2" out of "*****."
I've always been amused by the five-star rating system. Four stars, it always seemed, would suffice in telling the reader that something is excellent, an "A-plus," a superlative effort above all others. To push it to five stars is absurd, a Spinal Tappian "one louder than 10" cry for attention that undermines the entire grading scale for critics, even if that scale is more albatross than accommodating.
I recall a time when Rolling Stone would have a five-star review reserved for what it considered to be an "instant classic." The thought that what amounts to "Rocky VI" is a half-star away from that lofty status makes me question whether it was the first movie my local film scholar has seen without the prefix "Made-for-TV" attached to it.
Don't get me wrong: I enjoyed "Rocky Balboa." I was expecting a paint-by-numbers nostalgia trip, and instead I was treated to a movie with a human heart and a rousing finale that successfully caps the greatest American sports series in cinematic history (sorry, "Major League" and "The Mighty Ducks" ... perhaps your days will come). The entire movie can be read as a melancholy confessional by Stallone about stars becoming relics, headliners becoming sideshows, and legends only being recalled when there's a reason to squeeze a little more cash out of them.
In other words, heavyweight boxers and Hollywood action heroes actually have a whole hell of a lot in common.
2. I attended a Nets/Timberwolves game in New Jersey over the break, and saw three things that drew my interest.
First is the fact that Kevin Garnett has not, to my knowledge, pulled an Allen Iverson yet. Here's a 30-year-old guy with the kind of dominating inside game that could be the final piece to a championship puzzle for half the league, and he's toiling away on a rebuilding team — one populated with rookies, journeymen, and the kinds of players who you might find thrown into a trade to even out the salary cap numbers. After seeing his team miss out on Iverson, and looking at the random faces on his own roster, Garnett must be biting his tongue like a shock therapy patient to avoid ripping Minny management.
I know he makes a ton of money, so trading him wouldn't be easy ... yet I wonder how Vince Carter likes the weather in the Twin Cities?
Second is the fact that women who go to NBA games really need to understand that they're not attending Ladies Night at Crunk or cage dancing at Sizzle. Maybe I'm just used to the hidden joys of a girl in a hockey sweater shuffling through the arena, but I think I saw more skin on Saturday night than Jame Gumb did in "The Silence of the Lambs."
Third is that fact that the evolution of the free t-shirt toss at NBA games continues. What started as a mascot throwing them morphed into a slingshot firing them, which then led to the air cannon blasting them. Now, the Nets have a new innovation: sending t-shirts down from the rafters on little white parachutes, sailing them into the stands. It's an awesome sight, and the fans loved it. I think every NBA city should adopt it ... well, maybe not Oklahoma City. I'd hate for someone in the cheap seats to confuse the t-shirt drop for some kind of beginner's skeet shooting exercise.
3. Finally, the differences between the voice of Dick Clark and that of the late Tom Carvel are now indiscernible. D.C. could go into a commercial for Cookie Puss in the middle of New Year's Rockin' Eve, and no one would even blink.
Onto my NFL postseason awards. Note that these are preferences, not predictions...
Most Valuable Player: Drew Brees, New Orleans Saints. He led the NFL in passing yards (4,418), was third in quarterback rating (96.2), and in passing touchdowns (26). He improved statistically from last year to this year in every single passing category except completion percentage. In the NFL, you either believe the QB makes the talent or the talent makes the QB; it's that classic argument people still have about the Joe Montana 49ers and the Troy Aikman Cowboys. The running backs and the coach get the accolades for the Saints' miraculous season; all Brees did was find a way to activate Reggie Bush's immeasurable talent, turn Marques Colston into a star, and keep the passing offense rolling through injuries and adversities. Take him off this team and they're back looking for solutions in the draft.
Giving Brees the MVP is no slight to LaDainian Tomlinson, who will probably win the award anyway. His 31 touchdowns are obscene, and several wins can be attributed directly to his stellar play. Yet he turned what was a playoff team in 2004 and what should have been one in 2005 into a 14-2 team this year; Brees gave a moribund franchise its best season ever. I'm no Katrina sentimentalist, but doing what he did for New Orleans and its football franchise is more valuable than L.T.'s offensive fireworks.
The Offensive and Defensive Players of the Year awards really don't interest me; the former is L.T.'s, and the latter will go to Champ Bailey, even though Jason Taylor could make a claim to it. Ditto the Rookie Awards: One goes to Vince Young, and all we need to know about the other one is that it will not go to Mario Williams.
Coach of the Year: Eric Mangini, New York Jets. Let's just get this out of the way: I am an unapologetic J-E-T-S fan, and this pick will carry that taint. But there's simply no way Mangini isn't the choice here, with the way he managed what little talent he was given and glued together a fractured franchise.
I've read people lobbying for Jeff Fisher, as if finding lightning in a bottle after refusing to open it for several weeks is laudable.
I've read people lobbying for Andy Reid because the Eagles made the postseason after losing Donovan McNabb in Week 11; Mangini made the postseason without having Curtis Martin, the team's top offensive player, for 16 weeks. And, as a replacement, Jeff Garcia > Cedric Houston, Leon Washington, and Kevan Barlow.
And, of course, I've read people already giving this award to Sean Payton, and there's a tangible argument to be made for turning the Saints into Super Bowl contenders and managing their emotions through the reconstruction of both the franchise and the city around them.
I'd argue that Payton had more talent at his disposal and more potential for a breakout season after adding Brees and Bush.
Mangini, meanwhile, didn't just take over a blank canvas — he had one ripped to shreds, and was given about three colors and a broken brush to paint with.
Yet he completed a playoff picture, which is why he's the Coach of the Year.
Enjoy a great weekend of football, folks, and happy New Year...
Greg Wyshynski is the Features Editor for SportsFan Magazine in Washington, DC, and the Senior Sports Editor for The Connection Newspapers of Northern Virginia. His book is "Glow Pucks and 10-Cent Beer: The 101 Worst Ideas in Sports History." His columns appear every Saturday on Sports Central. You can e-mail Greg at [email protected].
Leave a Comment