Drinking Games and Power Rankings [Podcast]

For those of you who do not know, Harrison and I do a weekly radio show (Wednesdays 7-8 PM at radiofords.com/listen). We'll try to upload them in podcast form weekly to this site, as well as a transcript of some of our juicier material. The podcast usually consists of a recap and analysis of the major sports, as well as a few more obscure ones. For details on this week's see the end of this post.

Drinking Game

Harrison's weekly off-the-cuff drinking game should be played to Game 1 of the Royals-Orioles series (Friday at 8:00 PM). Drink every time:

    1.    Someone sings (e.g. National Anthem, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game”)

    2.    Cameras Zoom in on an Orioles’ fan wearing a funky orange costume

    3.    Cameras Zoom in on a Royals’ fan wearing a funky blue costume

    4.    Foul ball caught in the stands*

    5.    You misunderstand the rules of baseball

    6.    The announcers reference some complex baseball strategy you don’t understand

    7.    Scoring opportunity that is not capitalized upon

    8.    The team you arbitrarily pick to root for loses = finish drink

*You should do this for every baseball game at every level, not just for this Weekly Drinking Game

Power Ranking

Harrison spouted off his top 10 favorite breads with no previous knowledge that he would do this. The sure-to-engender controversy ranking:

10. Bunny Bread

9. Whole Wheat with way too many seeds in it

8. Dinner Rolls

7. Marble Rye

6. White Bread (regular)

5. Bread Bowls

4. Whole Wheat with a normal number of seeds in it

3. Honey Wheat

2. Sourdough

1. Pumpernickel

Podcast

This week we sorted the contenders from the pretenders in the NFL, bet the farm on a squash tournament, recapped some cricket, complained about Percy Harvin's lack of fantasy impact, and put Harrison on the spot a few times. Check it out!

Jay Gruden Runs a Crappy Diner

Read this while eating: A ham and cheese sans cheese. (See below)

“Zero faith in Jay Gruden to even tie his shoelaces.” – Washington fan Josh L.

Imagine walking into your local sandwich restaurant and having the following interaction with your waiter, played here by Washington football coach Jay Gruden:

You: What sandwiches are good today?

Jay Gruden: Grilled cheese is always a great choice, in my opinion.

You: What kind of cheeses do you have?

JG: Actually, I think we just ran out of cheese.

You: You’re a sandwich store and you ran out of every type of cheese?

JG: Unfortunately, but don’t worry, we have tons of great sandwiches. Do you want a ham and cheese?

You: Sur—wait, didn’t you just say you were out of cheeses?

JG: Oh, yeah, good point, I forgot. How about a tuna sandwich?

You: Get me anything at this point.

JG: Would you like to upgrade to a tuna melt for an extra dollar?

You: [Tries very hard not to punch him while exiting premises]

Jay Gruden made a pretty confusing series of decisions against the Seahawks on Monday Night Football this week, which for the purpose of hyperbole I am going to call the single most frustrating and mind-numbingly idiotic set of coaching decisions in my entire blogging career!!!!!! At the beginning of the third quarter, Washington, down 17-7 to the defending Super Bowl Champion Seattle Supersonics, faced 3^rd & 1 on the Seahawks’ 9. Kirk Cousins barely got the snap off on time en route to trying a quarterback sneak that got stuffed for no gain. This was a pretty tame play call, but one that might have worked if Cousins had had a little more time to set up and pick his hole. (Whatever miscommunication occurred on the field is most likely not attributable to Gurden). Down ten points and needing three measly feet to get a fresh set of downs, Jay “Don’t Call Me Jon” Gruden elected to kick a field goal, thus going down 17-10.

This decision is not that controversial, or at least not as controversial as it should be. With few exceptions, coaches go with the safer of two options. Calling the game, Gruden’s brother lauded the move, noting that baby bro had taken the safe bet to keep the score within two possessions. (Interestingly, Jon “I Won a Super Bowl So Who Cares If You’re Mom’s Favorite” Gruden said he would think about going for it before his brother sent out the field goal unit.) It’s not productive to criticize statements made by conservative broadcasters in the heat of the moment…but it is a lot of fun so here goes: The pro-kicking argument based on keeping the game within two touchdowns is banal for two reasons. First, it was Washington’s first possession of the third quarter. There’s no reason to play the score this early in the game. Going down 17-10 is not much better than going down 17-7, as the Seahawks only needed a field goal (or a safety) to stretch that lead to three possessions—and they had 25 minutes of game time to do that. Second, kicking essentially tells your defense: “Go win this game for us.” Washington obviously needed to score a touchdown in order to tie the game, but they also needed to stop the Seahawks immediately after this field goal in order to have the opportunity to tie the game. Oh yeah, and also stop them every other time Seattle had the ball with a 7-point lead. Considering Washington’s best defense was the Seahawks committing penalties (including 3 TDs nullified in the game), I don’t feel great about the chances of this happening.

Jay Gruden absolutely should have gone for it. Generally, underdogs should play aggressively and favorites should play conservatively. (This is all relative.) When your team isn’t as good, you need to make the game higher-variance in order to win the game. Going for the first down—which, once again, was only one yard away, Cousins and co. didn’t exactly need to cross the Red Sea to pick it up—is a high-risk, high-reward strategy. Scratch that: it’s a moderate-risk, high-reward strategy that could have potentially brought the underdog to within a field goal. Still, playing it safe is what coaches do. They have a system, and they stick to it.

… Which makes Gruden’s next decision so perplexing. Down 17-10, having just pussyfooted around in the red zone, he has kicker Kai Forbath try an onside kick. This needs to be repeated: Gruden declined to try a 4^th & 1 from Seattle’s 9 only to try an onside kick on the very next play. This needs to be repeated a third time: Gruden didn’t want to pick up a yard deep in Seattle territory, then went for a freaking onside kick 30 seconds later.

Let’s do some really simple math together. If Washington had gone for it in the red zone and succeeded, they’re looking at three or four chances to score 7, and even if they don’t get a TD they can fall back on the field goal. If they go for it and fail, then they get no points but at least Seattle has to drive 90 yards to get a touchdown. Which they’re capable of doing, but they can do that whether you give them ball on downs or on the kickoff. And yeah, Washington’s offense isn’t great, but then again they only need one stinking yard, and Cousins and Morris can always fall back on the read-option. With the onside kick: if Washington recovers, they have to drive about 45 yards to get a touchdown. Not a sure thing, especially considering Seattle’s fearsome defense, but definitely possible. If Washington doesn’t recover, then you give Russell Wilson a short field to work with. Now, kicking onside isn’t a bad idea in a vacuum. Like I said, higher variance plays are a great idea for an underdog. But, and this next part is going to get its own paragraph:

Why the f*** would you not be aggressive in the red zone then immediately try an onside kick??!?!?!

Compounding the mistake is that Washington had been kicking short all game in an effort to keep the ball out of Percy Harvin’s hands. Usually when an onside kick succeeds, it’s because the returning team assumes a kick to the end zone. In this scenario it was just the opposite. To summarize: Gruden went super-conservative when being aggressive was easy, then decided to be super-aggressive when aggression was hard.

No, Gruden, I do not want any cheese on my tuna. I just want to pretend like it’s 2012 and Kyle Shanahan is calling plays.

Ray rice, a short story by Chekhov and a late night walk home with a friend.

The fact that the Ray Rice story is being constantly jammed into my eyeballs and ears this week by Sportscenter, newspapers, and even football halftime shows makes it clear that we, that is to say the majority of the American sports watching/broadcasting world, deplore what Ray Rice has done. I don't feel the need to discuss his brutal beating of his then fiancé or even the shortcomings of the NFL or the Baltimore ravens in their response to this issue, mainly because it seems that most everyone agrees that all aspects of this horrific event and it's subsequent mishandling are unthinkably cruel and unjust, and many people are already talking about this far more eloquently than I can. Instead I want to talk about the more mundane and local instances of equally deplorable circumstances that I have come into contact with this week.

This sort of discussion of domestic abuse and mistreatment of women came up first this week outside of the Ray Rice story through a short story which I read for a class I am taking on Anton Chekhov. In his story "Peasant Women," Chekhov discusses the hypocritical and sadistic treatment of women in peasant society in late 1800's Russia.  The professor of the class, which is taught in the Russian department, brought the story into modern times by emphasizing the prevalence of these selfsame issues in today's Russia; issues that are spurred on by Russia's rampant abuse of alcohol and by the patriarchal society that still exists there today. As the professor said that, he paused, and then said "I guess if any of you follow sports you know that these issues also exist here in America."

This relationship between alcohol, some weird patriarchal society, and cruelty towards women stuck with me as I left the class, but like many such things, it faded as I entered the weekend.  However, all those thoughts came rushing back to me late at night on Saturday, as I walked home with a friend. She was complaining to me of her experience at the party we had been at, saying that nothing like what had happened that night would have happened while her (now graduated) boyfriend was on campus. Men at the party had grabbed her, grinded towards her on the dance floor, and generally done all sorts of "little" things that contribute to making someone incredibly uncomfortable in a place where they should be having fun amongst friends. She wasn't saying that her boyfriend had to fight to protect her body while he had been at those sort of parties, but rather that just the simple fact that he was on campus (NOT EVEN AT THE PARTY!!!) had prevented men from acting this way.  This was something that shocked me, because it was something that as a man I would never have been able to witness for myself.  Moreover, the same elements of alcohol and a weird and unjust patriarchal dynamic that I had seen in a Chekhov short story were popping up shockingly at a party that I had been at. There can be no doubt that this story, and another I heard from a different friend where a man she was kissing took her hand as she was trying to leave and placed it on his underwear covered (thankfully, although she didn't know how or when he had taken his pants off) crotch, were heavily influenced by alcohol; but there is also a dangerous and disturbing sense of entitlement that goes right along with it.

I am not writing this to tell my fellow men to try to protect women's bodies from attacks, because I hope that it is generally accepted that that is the right thing to do. Instead, I want to attempt to address this issue by reminding men of the terrifying power dynamic that exists: the one that allows the Baltimore Ravens and the NFL to ignore and suppress overwhelming evidence that Ray Rice committed a terrible attack, the one that hasn't changed since pre-1900's Russia, and the ones that makes presumably otherwise good people do awful things with only alcohol and lack of male ownership as the catalyst.

The Sandwich That I Have To Include In This Post Because Of The Blog Title:  This pairs with a Ham and Cheese sandwich with lettuce, tomato, mustard, and mayo that turns into ash as soon as you take a bite.  This is because it is a wholesome and all-American sandwich that inevitably turns awful.

Alex Smith Is Clutch

A Sandwich Defense by Deghasio

Sandwich pairing: Chicken Barbecue, because Kansas City.

On Monday at home, the Kansas City Regressions Chiefs beat Tom Brady and the Patriots 41-14, based largely on the strength of their defense and offensive line. Quarterback Alex Smith, the man who was picked 23 spots ahead of Aaron Rodgers, had just walloped Tom Brady behind a crowd that broke the record for loudest outdoor stadium. As with any Alex Smith victory, he was penned as a “game manager” who did “just enough” to ride a dominant line and defense to a victory.

The narrative of Alex Smith goes something like this: Alex Smith was drafted by a “no-nonsense” coach who wanted, essentially, the blandest quarterback possible, thus eschewing the more talented and homegrown Rodgers in favor of the guy with the last name “Smith.” In his first season, he threw exactly one touchdown pass despite playing in nine games. Throughout the next five years (and a paycut), Smith was subject to multiple coordinators and head coaches who were under pressure to win immediately. It too until 2011, when genius coach and notorious khaki-wearer Jim Harbough took over, for Smith to play good, albeit safe, football. He went to an NFC Championship game before being replaced by Colin Kaepernick at the earliest opportunity. When he was traded to Kansas City, Smith helmed a 9-0 start based on: 1) having an easy schedule, and 2) not being Brady Quinn. He then blew a big lead in the playoffs to Andrew Luck—the ultimate winner, the clutch quarterback.

For the most part, it is hard to disagree with these assertions. Smith has had the benefit of playing with Jim Harbough, probably the best coach in the league, and Andy Reid, probably the best coach with the worst ability to manage the clock. (As an Eagles fan, this article still hurts.) Both coaches, especially Reid, are known for getting the maximum performance from average quarterbacks. Smith is a one-time Pro Bowler (2013), meaning he was generally perceived as one of the six best quarterbacks only once in his career. Managing a monster 49ers team for ten games in 2012, Smith posted a Quarterback Rating of 104.1; his next highest is 90.7, with an average of 81.6, per NFL.com. His completion percentage is less than 60%, which is frightening considering the number of checkdowns, screens, and easy passes he gets. The list of underwhelming stats go on and on.

However it is because of these stats that Alex Smith is so clutch. He’s routinely mediocre in regular season games. He’s the master of the handoff, checkdown, and throw-it-away-and-send-it-the-punter. Once playoff time comes, though, Smith magically gets not just better, but a lot better. That’s what clutch is: playing above your typical level of play in big games. Take the 2011 season: Smith was the ultimate game manager during the regular season. Then, in his first playoff game ever, he outplayed Drew freaking Brees in the final four minutes of the Divisional Round. Brees is supposed to march his team down the field to score. Smith is supposed to hand it off to Gore and let the defense do the work. But in this spectacular game, Smith had a rushing and two passing touchdowns to win the game for the 49ers. It took not one but two Kyle Williams’ fumbles to prevent the Niners from going to the Superbowl.

In Smith’s next playoff game, he blew a huge lead to Andrew Clutch, right? Only it’s not that simple. Jamaal Charles was “the guy [the Colts] needed to stop.”  Turns out they didn’t—he left the game in the first four minutes with a concussion. Playing with a backup running back the entire game, Smith scored 44 points, including a gorgeous shovel pass to Anthony Sherman. And yeah, he missed a game-icing pass to Dwayne Bowe, but then again he was also down to his third running back. He’d already scored 44 despite only averaging 26 a game in the regular season despite playing the likes of the Jaguars and Raiders. Oh, and Andrew Luck? He dominated Smi—oh wait, had three picks to Smith’s zero and only threw for 73 more yards.

So the next time you’re watching Alex Smith and one of your friends calls him mediocre—well, they’re probably right. Unless it’s the playoffs, in which case you count him out at your own risk.