American culture, NFL, Peyton Manning, Society & Culture, Tom Brady, Uncategorized

The Intervention of a Sports Addict

Sports are a drug.

They’ve probably always been a drug, and always will be a drug.

They soothe us, distract us, energize us, unite us, divide us, and entertain us.

They also blind us.

Americans are sports junkies.

And what do addicts do?

Deny that a problem or addiction exists in the first place. They ignore the obvious. They defend the indefensible. They keep right on using.

But they’ll ruin you. Mess up your mind.

You don’t believe me, do you?

So how about the fact that sports will make you deify someone you’ve never met? Doubt me?

Let me prove it to you.

How do you feel about Tom Brady? And now, how do you feel about Peyton Manning?

Allow yourself to independently judge both of these legends’ and their recent “situations.”

You couldn’t do it, could you?

Peyton Manning

Manning’s stories are promptly dismissed as “hit” jobs by people who want to tear him down through accusations of HGH and a young college kid who behaved immaturely.

Yet Brady’s stories are treated as fact, despite the little evidence produced in the 12 months since Deflategate began to actually prove 1) anything actually happened and 2) most importantly as it concerns Brady himself, that he had anything to do with it if the balls were actually deflated by humans.

The NFL still slings it out in court to prove they have the right to punish a player under the CBA, missing the entire point that, you know, you have to actually have proved the player should be punished at all. To do this, they uncovered thousands of e-mails and phone records to try and link Brady to it.

All we found out is he wants to play longer than Manning, he’s got an ego and he weirdly cares a lot about swim pool covers.

On the other side of the coin, Manning has seen his image take a hit over allegations that date back 20 years that he was basically a pervert to a female trainer at the University of Tennessee. This is on top of the allegations that he received several shipments of HGH (or his wife did) that coincide with his neck injury rehabilitation a few years back.

The Tennessee story has been out there since 1996 and Manning has settled the dispute twice – once when it happened and apparently again when he brought the trainer’s name up in a book. Why this is resurfacing now has everything to do with his name being attached to a Title IX lawsuit against Tennessee and it being 2016, the age of rabid, social media heathenry.

Meanwhile, it has been revealed that NFL players were shorted $100 million in revenues. The league office dismissed it as an accounting error. Anybody make a $100 million mistake at their job wouldn’t have a job the next day. Yet this story is not currently gaining much traction. Why?

Because we’ve already given them the money, so we don’t care if the rich players get richer or the rich owners are even richer. It’s monopoly money to us, anyway.

No, no, we addicts, we care about sentiment, about legacy, about being able to emphatically agree on some fantasy ranking of the greatest ever.

And we care about this all because it says a lot about who we are – at least so we think subconsciously.  We attach ourselves to these athletes and these teams so we can go through the pain of losing and the joy of winning together. Brady backers love the underdog story, Manning’s fans stuck by him through all the “he can’t win the big one” years. To us, this loyalty proves something about us.

We can’t like the wrong guy, we can’t be wrong, we can’t have invested in the wrong guy or bought into who he is as a person.

NCAA Football: Alabama at Mississippi

There’s a lot on the line for us average Jill and Joe’s because we’ve convinced ourselves that our fandom matters to other fans. We made it clear who we support – and not only is our guy better, but they are a better person, too.

Except for one, small problem.

It means nothing. We don’t know any of these people. We don’t know what they are like behind closed doors. We don’t know how kind they are or how ruthless they are or how sleezy they might be.

They might be innocent, they might be guilty. The vast majority of us have no clue. And yet we sports junkies feed the beast. We listen to the sports talk shows rattle on and on about it, driving up ratings, making them talk about it more. We click the stories all over social media, prompting more stories to be written about it.

We’re sheep. Inmates in a sports asylum walking around with blinders on, believing in sports and sports figures as if it was a religion. We’re dopes, buying the gear, buying the tickets at astronomical prices, buying into the belief systems and serious manner in which it’s all treated.

We’ve been sucked into world within our world where we think this stuff actually matters, like debating if four minutes is enough of a suspension for Ben Simmons cutting class last week?

I don’t know, and I don’t care anymore. Did that teach Simmons anything? Probably not. Why is he allowed to do that? Why do you care? Didn’t you cut class in college? Does it impact you if he doesn’t go to class?

We want fairness and equality in sports, in college programs? There’s too much money at stake to ever let it happen. We demand from coaches and athletes and administrators that which we ourselves cannot even do in our daily lives. We take shortcuts. We skip out. We complain. We don’t give max effort every single day.

But we sure expect everyone else in sports to. After all, they’ve been given a gift.

So have you.

You just choose to waste it.

Sports and extracurricular activities in general serve in building people in a variety of ways from a young age. They teach teamwork, dedication, commitment, perseverance and hard work to name just a few.

And wanting to be a part of that, as a parent or a fan, or both is good too. But too much of anything can turn into something you never intended – like convincing yourself that someone you’ve never met is good or evil, the embodiment of everything you love about sports – or everything you loathe.

Just be wary of absolutes.

Absolutes lead down a path of yelling at officials at a soccer game for four-year-olds. They make you crazy enough to attack someone physically in the parking lot after a game. Or throw batteries at Santa Claus (we’re looking at you, Philadelphia).

They make you believe in someone else that, like you, is human and fallible. Better yet, these absolutes have led you to wear the jersey of a character, a portrayal, an image of who that person wants you to see and believe.

I know this isn’t easy to admit. I know you think I’m crazy, that sports don’t control your life and that you couldn’t possible “worship” another human being so blindly.

But just go back to the beginning. What do you know and believe about Tom Brady? And what do you know and believe about Peyton Manning. Ask yourself which one is right and wrong, good and evil, guilty or innocent.

And now remember that it’s a trick question: you don’t know them or their situations – only what their enemies or their mouthpieces have allowed you to.

michael and kobe

In other words, you don’t know Peyton Manning or Tom Brady. Or Michael Jordan. Or Tiger Woods. Or Bob Knight. Or Serena Williams. Or Dean Smith. Or Kobe Bryant. Or Tim Duncan. Or LeBron James. Or Andre Aggasi. Or Danica Patrick.

No matter how much you think you do.

The first step is to admit there’s a problem.

Sports are a drug.

They soothe us, distract us, energize us, unite us, divide us, and entertain us.

And they most certainly blind us.

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NFL

Pink Slip Promotions

Several years ago, I wrote a column about the massive layoff that occurs each year the day after the final game of the NFL regular season. Several years later, nothing has changed except this: it has gotten worse.

Across the NFL, across the landscape of professional sports in general, coaching is not just an uneasy profession, it is nearly brimming on insanity.

Before noon on Monday, four NFL coaches no longer had the positions they’d held 24 hours prior. Fewer people probably lost their seasonal jobs at your local Wal-Mart Friday.

Then again, it’s not just football that hires and fires the same way we change our undergarments – nor is this a new phenomenon.

In late 2008, six NBA coaches were fired before the season was 25 games old. Think about that: six teams decided that the wrong person was coaching their franchise that season when the season was barely 25 percent complete.

All this begs the question of why? Why are we terminating head coaches so fast? Is it the culture? Is it the rabid fan bases? Is it the expectations?

Coaches are paid, shall we say, rather well these days. The fact that Jim Harbaugh was offered a rumored $48 million dollars to coach a collegiate football team who have not been elite for nearly a decade (or longer) is the easiest example of this.

But it appears that it takes that kind of money to lure someone into the coaching pit of hell that is “big-time” football.

san-francisco-49ers-head-coach-jim-harbaugh

Harbaugh seems to have preferred to stay in the NFL, but he looked at the mess in Oakland (something like 400 coaches in the last 15 seasons) and Chicago (brimming with angry teens at skill positions) and then glanced at his alma mater’s boosters whipping out their checkbooks (and adding something like 14 zeroes) and had an actual decision to make.

But beware of the obligation that comes with that money. It’s win and win now. Like right now. Like the recruiting war, the season opener, the Ohio State, Michigan State and all the B1G games. Oh, and win the B1G title game. Restore the greatness, win the playoff and Hail to the Victors. Do this! Do it now!

Or find another job.

And find them, fired coaches do.

Why? Because the coaches that are being fired are pretty much all the same. They do the same stuff. Run the same plays. Talk the same speak. Wear the same clothes. Some are stronger in some areas, but the vast majority of coaches’ fall into needing some luck, some key buy-in from the players and/or the organization, some early success and fans who’ll at least give them two or three seasons.

Marc Trestman didn’t get the multiple seasons. Rex Ryan didn’t get the players. Jim Harbaugh had the early success, but the organization did not seem to like him (and vice versa) no matter how much success they had.

Mike Smith, well, he joins the list of guys who deserved to be fired appropriately: multiple seasons, underachieving teams, poor decisions, lack of success. His time was up and that’s just the way it goes…for about one or two coaches a decade.

Production takes a little bit of time. Perhaps there is no sweet spot, yet logic would preclude that a season is not long enough – at any level – to determine future success. Unless that season is winless or a significant drop-off from before.

How many of us would have lost our jobs after 60 or 90 days under these conditions? What if your boss told you that you had exactly one year to win all the major awards you could win or hit a threshold the company had never seen or you would be fired?

Would you take the job? What if every job was like that? We’d be so busy undoing or understanding where we were that we’d never get anything done. Think of all the people who would have been fired for lack of production in history?

In 2006, Tom Coughlin was nearly fired by the New York Giants. Like “as close as you can be to fired without being fired” fired. He went on to win the Super Bowl the following season, got a contract extension, won another Super Bowl and now, eight years later, the rumors are the Giants will never fire him. Coughlin will have to step down to not be the coach of the Giants.

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Rex Ryan took over the listless Jets and made them contenders against the likes of the New England Patriots and Indianapolis Colts, without much of a quarterback (or knowledge of the offensive side of the ball in general). Ryan made it to AFC Championship Games and seemed perfect for the tabloid headlines in New York, but ultimately, he failed.

Or did he? The players never quit and they all seem to love playing for Ryan.

The role of coach has become blurred. Is it a coach who gets the most out of his players? If so, Ryan and Harbaugh are widely successful. Is it someone who acts like a PR mouthpiece for the team? Or a calm, rational person who deals well with the media and fans? If so, they failed.

We cannot seem to make our minds up. We mock Harbaugh for his intensity, we belittled Jon Gruden’s famous 3:17am wake-up call, but then that’s the guy we want when the other guys fail. The grass is always just a little greener, no?

Is this a call for the use of a little patience? Of course, but we’re to blame. As fans, when we see another team turn it around, we get envious and demand the same thing.

There are mitigating factors to these teams and seasons, but we don’t care – give us the goods! Make something happen, owners and general managers! Create the illusion we’re moving in the right direction!

There’s a reason the Pittsburgh Steelers have been an overall successful organization for the better part of the past two decades. They’ve had two head coaches in that time span: Bill Cowher and Mike Tomlin. Go back even further, add in Chuck Noll’s legendary career, and the Steelers have had three head coaches since 1968.

The Raiders, by contrast, have had 13 head coaches since Tom Flores left after the 1987 season. Only Jon Gruden coached the Raiders for more than three seasons. In a totally related note, the Raiders have been one of the NFL’s worst teams since Gruden left.

It is increasingly unlikely we’re going to see another Jerry Sloan or Bill Belichick. We’re lucky if we will see another coach like Coughlin. We used to be surrounded by continuity. Coaches used to be able to have the chance to pull their teams out of a funk or improve on a losing or unsuccessful season.

This actually helped keep the players in line, knowing that they couldn’t whine to the media and work to have the coach canned, they’d have to work with the coach to make the team better and right the ship.

We live on a merry-go-round of professional coaching. I forgot that Tony Sparano, who coached the Miami Dolphins, was in fact the coach of the Raiders this season – and I pay attention to the NFL. Actually, without looking, I’m not sure I could name more than 20 of the 32 NFL coaches – and would be mildly surprised at who is coaching the team’s I cannot remember.

Yet we’re astonished when these coaches fail all over again. We want new coaches and new ideas, then read articles criticizing teams like the Philadelphia Eagles and Chip Kelly.

There’s only so many of these guys to go around. It’s what I call the “Pink Slip Promotion.” Get fired? No worries, just wait, there’s another job offer coming.

For our part as fans, we somehow operate under the premise that every team should be good or make the playoffs in every sport. They can’t.

No, really, they can’t.

Some teams are just bad and will remain that way until a coach has enough time to put his practices and methodologies in place and the players respond accordingly. Or they won’t, in which case, time to start over.

Look, I’m all for change if something’s not working.

Mike Smith should have been fired by the Atlanta Falcons – his team’s consistently underperformed, his consistently made poor decisions and he’d had more than sufficient time (seven seasons) to win division titles, playoff games and potentially, a Super Bowl.

But in the end, all we’re left with is pink slip promotions. Smith, Ryan, Trestman and the others who will follow will all end up back on your TVs soon enough.

So enjoy the next round of new hires in the NFL.

The names might ring a bell.

So might the results.

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American culture, NFL

The Social Media Mob

On Tuesday morning, I was driving to work listening to “Mike & Mike” on ESPN radio, as I do most morning commutes. For 15 minutes, Greeny and Golic allowed Jim Turner, the former offensive line coach for the Miami Dolphins, to share details and his point of view on what exactly happened last year between Richie Incognito and Jonathan Martin that led to a social outcry over locker room ethics and behavior.

For the first few minutes, all I could think was:

  1. Why are they rehashing all this? That was last year!
  2. Why are they giving this man so much air time to talk about something that happened last year and has been over for so long?

After all, there was much more to talk about – sports for one. But if the show was heading down that path (again) of discussing the larger issues that are taking over sports, then why not at least cover something from 2014?

And then it hit me.

We never really figured out what happened.

I didn’t even know this guy’s name. We moved through that story, that news cycle, so fast and with such condemnation that we made grandiose assumptions about what happened, but never really found out the truth, then came to a conclusion well in advance and moved on to the next thing.

social mediaIf it seems like the NFL is in a dark place right now, it is because it does seem that way. But seeming to be is not the same as it actually happening. To be fair, the NFL, NBA and the world in general are not any darker or different than it was 25 or 30 years ago.

We just find out about everything now – in near real time – and often react within the same beat.

We have a mob mentality on Social Media. We have shifted into an era of guilty until proven innocent. This is no longer about defending one person, their actions or even trying to determine what actually happened.

This is about the part that precedes that part.

While there is clearly a lack of leadership in the NFL – and perhaps more importantly, it’s player’s union – the NFL and other professional sports leagues should not be held to a standard that we do not hold ourselves or the justice system to.

In other words, while the NFL can and should do better, it is not their responsibility to go above and beyond the punishment, or lack thereof, handed down by the law.

We’ve been dipping our toes in some very troubling waters lately. Social media has pushed the public outcry to a place that is placing a great deal of pressure on different groups and people to act correctly – and with extreme speed. This creates two important problems that we seem to be ignoring with consequential long term damage.

Problem No. 1: In an attempt to get things right, speed matters. But not rapid speed. Rushing leads to mistakes, to not hitting all the angles just right. Think of pretty much every time you have rushed to get something done. Now how did that work out? Fail a test? Miss a deadline? Burn the casserole? Care for any do-overs? Ever think back on that situation a month, six months or a year later? While our decision making process should not take a long time, it also shouldn’t play out in 36 hours.

Problem No. 2: We cannot agree on what is “right” – and we probably never will. This is a simple fact of humanity. You will not find everyone in complete agreement on any issue, which is a good thing.

Look, we do not need to like the same things. The world would be a pretty boring place if we did. But we also do not have to agree on everything, or be right all the time. Better still, until we have all the information we need to process something, we don’t even need to be first or fast. We should want to do what is right, not just be right.

Debate, whether reasonable or not, at the very least helps with Problem No. 1 because it forces a slowdown. Making a decision alone, without consult, and it tends to cause collateral problems.

There is no doubt a wide array of opinions on the Adrian Peterson situation. From every corner, we hear from people with various and diverse backgrounds who have all been disciplined in a numerous ways. Some might have been whipped and hated it. Some might have hated it, but understood it and employ it with their kids. Others were never whipped and have run amok in life, while still even more were never spanked and have turned out to be fine, upstanding citizens.

But we want to be right, we want everyone to agree that we are right and we want to move on to the next thing we can find to stand up on a soapbox and shout about, be right about and move on from.

It does not – or should not matter – what our opinions are in regard to these situations, frankly. We can and should feel free to share them, so long as it does not sway the process due to them. And there is a difference between defending someone and defending the rights of anyone.

For example, Donald Sterling is clearly a sick, twisted and evil man. The NBA used his incredibly disgusting track record and a surging public outcry to take his business and sell it to someone else. And while the NBA – and the world in general – are better for it, while we all applaud the fact he’s out and gone, it doesn’t make us any less culpable for beating up the bully and taking what didn’t belong to us.

And now, it’s over. It feels like a long time ago.

It was July.

adrian-petersonWe’ll move on – and quickly – from Adrian Peterson, too. Just like we did with Ray Rice and Roger Goodell a whole week ago.

It is strange to think how collectively, through social media, we make up one of the most influential groups in the modern world. It’s an instant poll in many ways – like performing in front of a live audience, except with each line, you stop, gather the reaction and then move on to the next scene.

Truth be told, no one knows what to do right now –almost entirely because of what we will say. We have frozen the market on public relations, almost across the board.

Beer companies are threatening to pull sponsorship money because the NFL’s problems are not matching their “value” system (slightly ironic, right?). Hotels are gasping when their sponsorship banner hangs behind a team official as he makes an announcement because of the content and topic of said announcement.

Major sports companies and sponsors are suspending or pulling their deals with athletes and teams and leagues because they are afraid of us. They are afraid we’ll boycott, that we won’t buy their goods or services. Further, these actions are met with approval from celebrities and dignitaries outside the world of sports, simply because it feels like something that needs to be stated: “[Insert whatever situation, e.g. Child Abuse/Domestic Abuse] is wrong and I’m glad to see them doing something about it.”

Except nobody really did anything. “They” stopped selling jerseys or action figures or posters. They suspended someone with pay. They booted someone from the league. But nothing of real value has actually been done to prevent future child or domestic abuse.

This is not just limited to sports. Last week, Apple haphazardly forced all iTunes accounts to download the new album from U2 – which was met with swift and shameful scorn by social media. In about three days’ time, Apple released a program that would remove the album from user accounts. Good, right? Except how many even knew Apple possessed the power to put that on our devices to begin with? And if they can do it with Bono’s overly produced music, what could they do it with in the future?

We have yet to understand the breadth and depth of the power we now hold in our hands – both the technology and the medium.

Look at what we’ve done in just the past 10 days: Roger Goodell, the most powerful sports commissioner in history – has been shamed into hiding for the past week. Perhaps he should be fired – for a variety of reasons that include incredibly poor decision making – but a gone Goodell does not solve the problem. It only satisfies the social media mob.

The NFL did not just get a domestic abuse problem – as detailed here, it’s had one for years. Whether or not Goodell goes away or Ray Rice ever is allowed to return does little to address the issue. Further, we don’t seem to actually care about Janay Rice, just about using her as visual evidence for our cries of NFL violence and players out of control.

Donald Sterling did not just become a bigot overnight after a weird conversation with a woman not his wife; it had been documented for years as the lawsuits piled up. Being ousted as owner of the Clippers changes none of the living situations and irreparable damage Sterling did to others as their landlord.

The same as the NFL locker room has probably always been a strange place to you and me, the details of this foreign area escaped last fall in a situation that has been reported on largely by one side. But we don’t care about Richie Incognito or Jonathan Martin anymore.

We’ve long since moved on.

Last week, we had the whole NFL, the Baltimore Ravens and Ray Rice to be the judge, jury and pass verdict on. This week, we’ve got Adrian Peterson and the Minnesota Vikings. Next week, or the week after, it will be something else.

We’re using social media to collectively engage in our own little drama filled soap opera. And now, as our social media world turns, so does the actual world. We engage and trade barbs and opinions with people we know and we don’t know, saying things we’d never say out loud and/or in person, making the world at large believe we’re actually invested in the issue of the day – making our collective voices the loudest voting poll in human history.

You have to wonder if our cyber selves are creating a kind of future where social media swiftly – and with great feigned outrage – decides even more. What about the policies and the politics that govern us? Will we continue to not wait for all the information and provide a presumption of guilt until proven innocence as standard operating procedures?

Just remember that it is not so much about who you are, but what you will become.

I feel compelled to ask, what are we becoming?

And, are we really OK with it?

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Uncategorized

Rog: The Great & Powerful

“I don’t do things for public relations. I do things because they’re the right thing to do, because I love the game. If you want to do the popular thing, be a cheerleader.” – Roger Goodell, in 2012, to TIME

Maybe Goodell, who didn’t make a misogynistic comment at all with that line, should be a cheerleader, because he does not make a very good NFL commissioner.

Oh, certainly, Goodell fits the profile and looks the part: a strapping lawyer with blonde hair and blue eyes, well versed and tenured as an NFL employee, saying all the right things in interviews.

However, behind those steely eyes lies the mind of a egocentric, greed fueled and power hungry man who’s blinded by the bright lights and the cash cow that is his league.

It seems as though the league has gotten worse off the field since Goodell took over the reins from Paul Tagliabue in 2006. From his random, inconsistent suspensions to how naïve he pretends to be on concussion related issues, Goodell plays the brilliant fool so well, you can see how he got the job.

Goodell’s lagoodelltest bungled act was the two-game suspension of Ray Rice for his assault of his then-fiancée (now wife) last February.

After waiting for months to let it play out in the courts, Rog suspended Rice for two whole games – or two games less than recent drug violations netted other players.

Now that TMZ has done a very TMZ-like thing and leaked the elevator video for the world to see what Ray did, Goodell hides behind technicalities like not actually seeing the video himself and apologizing for misunderstanding the egregious act by Rice.

On one hand, he tells you that the NFL has been working to better understand domestic violence over the years, but apparently did not learn that you don’t interview the victim with the violator in the room, as they did with Ray and Janay Rice.

Goodell spins yarns about how the NFL just couldn’t seem to get their hands on the video from the hotel or the police, then hear from well-regarded ESPN legal analyst Lester Munson that the NFL security team is full of people with “former” titles that spent entire careers getting exactly what they want.

Goodell and the NFL did not see the video because they did not want to see the video.

The tragedy of Roger Goodell is he feigns his emotion, his pain and his condolences and then turns around and cashes the checks of millions who gobble up his league every single day.

In that same issue of TIME – the one that deemed Goodell “The Enforcer” – Goodell said that when Jovan Belcher killed his girlfriend, then himself, it was a human tragedy. But days later Belcher’s team, the Kansas City Chiefs, played their game. Goodell explained the players wanted to play, that it would be good for them.

What again about doing the right thing?

Keep cashing those checks, Roger. Or posing for those authoritative magazine covers.

The checks that go into the massive Scrooge McDuck money bank, the ones that fill your over $40 million dollar salary.

Goodell says he isn’t worried about his job. Says that he’d used to the criticism.

“Every day, I have to earn my stripes,” he says.

I just hope he doesn’t break his arm patting himself on the back for all his hard work in the areas of player safety and making the league’s players better citizens of society.

goodell-si-cover“People expect a lot from the NFL,” Goodell said this week. “We accept that. We embrace that. That’s our opportunity to make a difference, not just in the NFL but in society in general. We have that ability. We have that influence. And we have to do that. And every day, that’s what we’re going to strive to do.”

Whatever. It’s all noise now.

The simple fact is, the NFL wants your money. Nothing more, nothing less. And they know they’ll get it.

They care about the product on the field only as it pertains to enhancing the enjoyment of the event you’ve paid to see, either in person or on television.

And they could care less about the players who produce the product, unless it is a brand name like Manning or Brady, because the NFL knows that players don’t last forever and the league itself is bigger than any one player or team.

The NFL is not alone in its objective, mind you. Restaurants, hotels, car dealerships – before you get home, you’re getting buttered up in advance for your next meal, your next trip, your next new car. They liked your sweet paper and they want some more of it in the future.

If it takes a voucher to ensure you return, so be it. If it takes a measly two game suspension for beating up a woman in an elevator, fine. Goodell did what he figured would bring a little heat, but blow over long before that kickoff game in September.

This one backfired, but the next one might not. Sure, the media is clamoring for his resignation, but those billion-dollar owners, the ones he works for? They want more of that sweet paper, too. So long as it doesn’t destroy the gate receipts and TV revenues, Goodell’s job is safe.

Goodell could have and should have done more to send a larger message about domestic violence. He is right, the NFL does owe it to society at large to set an example. They have the influence to do that.

But that is not the world we live in. It sounds great in a memos to teams, but it does little to change anything. In the real world we live in, a subject of real importance that deals with how we treat one another, how we treat each gender in the roles of relationships is cut up and distributed to the masses on blogs, social media, Sports Center and talk radio.

Even when the NFL is wrong, or in a bad news cycle, it still gets the ratings and coverage it wants – lining that money bin with more paper.

Our addiction is the distraction Goodell and the NFL count on, each and every time.

Goodell has the ball, always has. He’s just been running trick plays for years, distracting us with his charm, his wits and his quotable lines of empathy.

Don’t forget: The Enforcer will protect the game, not the people.

Not even the cheerleaders.

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2014 AFC Championship Game, Peyton Manning, Tom Brady

The Great Debate

After four long months, we have come away with a familiar match-up in the AFC Championship.

Brady vs. Manning.

ImageThis Sunday, it will be nearly 10 years to the day since two of the greatest professional quarterbacks in any lifetime met in the playoffs. It feels like this could realistically be the last time they meet with the stakes so high.

They are intrinsically linked, despite their football narratives taking entirely opposite paths, they remain relatively the same.

Peyton Manning could never quite get over the hump in the playoffs, despite stellar numbers and regular season records that nearly every QB would trade for. Then, he broke through the New England and Super Bowl barrier in 2006.

All seemed settled, the monkey removed from his back. Yet as time has passed from that magical day in Miami, when the Colts beat the Bears in an ugly, wet game, Manning’s place among the elite of the elite remains a question for some, due largely – if not entirely – to his continuing poor performance in the playoffs.

Tom Brady had it pretty good the first half of his career. With a masterful coach, a tremendous defense and a clutch kicker, the Patriots won three Super Bowls in four years. But he never had the stats or regular season records to match the Mannings, Marinos and Elways. Then 2007 happened. Finally armed with two receivers not found at a Dollar General store, Brady shattered records and the Patriots had the first undefeated regular season since Nixon was in office.

But Brady had found life to be a bit tougher in recent years – with two Super Bowl losses at the hands of Tom Coughlin, Peyton’s little brother Eli and the New York Giants. As Gisele said so eloquently, Tom can’t catch the ball or play defense, too. He’s just a man. A man in Uggs.

As we often find, there’s more to it than just that. The Patriots have had the better organization, which means their team is often well-rounded, while Manning’s days with the Colts were often marked by a defense that never materialized into anything more than subpar.

Though not necessarily by choice, Manning has moved on to Denver in his NFL golden years and found a team chalked with talent on both sides of the ball, leading to a superior team in each of the past two regular seasons. As the numbers and MVPs pile it, it is safe to assume that he really should not need anything else to stake claim to the label of greatest quarterback ever.

But a second Super Bowl ring sure would put it to rest.

Brady has survived and thrived long enough that the Patriots have been forced to basically overhaul their team in chunks over the past two or three seasons. While that has not stopped New England from piling up more division titles and first round byes and AFC Championship or Super Bowl appearances, the fact remains Brady and Belichick have not won a Super Bowl since February 2005 – remember, when Terrell Owens actually mattered and Donovan McNabb was throwing up in the fourth quarter? If it seems so long ago – it is.

Even without the gaudy, long term stats, Brady will always have a logical claim to the label of greatest quarterback ever.

But a fourth Super Bowl ring sure would help drive the point home.

ImageHowever, it should be obvious: this debate will not end come Sunday. For those who actually pay attention, there is far too much else that happens on and off the field to allow this conversation to be settled. It might never be – and maybe it should not.

They have taken turns breaking each other’s records. Each has probably been at their very best not when breaking those marks, but in the seasons where they excelled when they probably should not have.

Like the years Manning and the Colts offense was actually their defense, used to keep other teams – and the porous Colts defense – off the field. Or this season, when Brady has guided the Patriots to another double-digit win total with huge injuries and lack of experience on both sides of the ball.

Plainly stated, both are in many minds, the best of all time. No other quarterbacks have done it in so many different ways and for so long.

Their stories have a different arc, but a similar tone. Manning was perhaps relied on more (at least up ‘til now) than Brady. As a friend stated, it must be nice to have a running game like the Patriots did on Saturday against the Colts, or to play against a young Andrew Luck, who threw four interceptions.

Perhaps, but just the same as I am sure Brady would trade his receiving core for Manning’s at any point in their careers except for possibly 2007. Just the same as Manning would probably take the Patriots defense over any the Colts had in every year but the 2006 playoffs.

You see, they are at the same time very similar, yet very different. They have defined their teams and the NFL for the past decade-plus.

And really, all this comes down to are a bunch of largely superfluous factors that really are more telling of us than they are them.

For example, where you live, what your favorite team is, what you appreciate in football, what you value in a quarterback. Do you enjoy winning consistently and your team having a chance, or do you value championship trophies more? Do you like a cerebral quarterback with a master command or a quarterback so precise between 15-35 yards he could hit Lincoln’s nose on a penny?

So what are we arguing about? The simple fact we like one guy or another. That’s it.

Manning and Brady do not think of this the same way we do. They like and respect each other. In fact, they are better friends than most people know, often talking and texting about life – and football; like sharing game plans on how to beat other teams. Of course they want to win, but I doubt if they sit around comparing resumes and arguing about who is better.

We’ve been wasting so much time pointing out all the things we don’t like, or what we think is the reason one is better than the other. It is just what we do. We need to know. We need people to agree with us. We want a clear-cut winner in this.

But no matter the outcome, we won’t know any more after this game than we did before it. Perhaps it is time to stop finding so much strength or fault in either man and appreciate them both at the same time.

Let us just enjoy the show before the final credits.

This great debate is nothing more than a distraction to the show.

In the words of T.O., grab your popcorn.

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