The Best of Bowler & Benny: The 2008 Edition

It seems like every December we all subconsciously (or perhaps semiconsciously) slip into a deeper state of self-inquiry. We examine the changes we’ve undergone in the past twelve months, attempt to extract some significance from those observations and then hopefully act on these newly actualized precepts... but in the end, we're more likely to simply eat too much, drink the drinks of the season and wait for the standard “best of the year” lists to roll in.

This has been a solid sophomore campaign for the Bowler & Benny. We’ve added Kurt Dirty, the resident tea sipper extraordinaire. His insights on The Beautiful Game have added a certain sophistication to this space and his contributions are immeasurable. As far as sport, we have been afforded probably the most memorable year in recent memory. The Giants over the Patriots in an epic Superbowl. The Final Four populated by four #1 seeds. Manchester United and Chelsea in an All-EPL Champions League Final. The Lakers/Celtics rivalry renewed. Tiger Woods at his career defining best. The Tampa Bay Rays improbable run. And of course, the 2008 Detroit Lions in all their glory.

Now, I understand that we took a 4-month break between July and November so that takes the luster off the breadth of our 2008 coverage. But really, we got busy. Ben is double dipping with school and work, Dirty is engaged and I’m… well, I’m just lazy. The Cubs and Brewers broke our hearts and Brett Favre made Ben’s ability to do anything beyond chew food and swallow a difficult task (read: limited bathing). Despite this seeming let down, we managed to churn out 46 posts. We’ll take it.

To any new readers, please become a Bowler & Benny supporter by clicking on the link to the right. It would be greatly appreciated.

10.Sean Singletary's Legacy
Monday, March 10, 2008

It’s been a tough season for Mr. Singletary. He was drafted by the Sacramento Kings as the 42nd overall pick and played some impressive summer league minutes (an oxymoron to be sure). Just as he was getting settled, he was traded to Houston on the eve of the season only to be traded a day later to Phoenix. Due to some early injuries to Leandro Barbosa, Singletary got some playing time for about a week in November with a couple serviceable outings. In the past two weeks, he was again traded to Charlotte (on his fourth team before logging his 126th minute of NBA floor time). It’s too early to say anything, after all, there is a precedent of standout Virginia guards taking some time to blossom at the professional ranks. In the end, I know #44 has got the chops to make it if he lands in the right system with the right coach.

9.The Descent of Man
Thursday, January 17, 2008

I love January because even if your boyhood football team hasn’t played a meaningful game in weeks, as a fan you are provided 11 highly pressurized, astutely played, reputation defining playoff games. A token from the football gods for your dutiful commitment to America’s game. However, if you are fortunate enough to have your team still playing, nothing is more important. MLB playoff series are twisting sagas, the NBA playoffs are not exciting until deciding games, but each 60 minute parcel of NFL drama is unmatched. Although the Packers came up short in overtime and Ben’s world has been turned upside down (NFL-wise), his honest hope and raw anxiety still are representations of what January is all about.

8.Tiggy Woo: Movement 2: Adagio
Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Although written 4 ½ months before his historic U.S. Open run, Dirty nails all the reasons why Tiger Woods is entering a truly remarkable period of his career. Some have said that he did “irrevocable damage” to his knee with that gutsy performance at Torrey Pines, however that simply remains to be seen. Although the U.S. triumphed in the Ryder Cup this September without his services causing a slew of idiotic headlines, his legend continues to loom large. His absence from the spotlight is still front page news and our only recourse as golf fans starved for greatness is to crack a beer and let’er rip. In the end, another great post by Mr. Bauer.

7.Dissecting the Evil Empire
Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Due to the misadventures of Charlie Weis and Hank Steinbrenner the Evil Empire has temporarily relocated to Boston. Yep, I’m pretty sure on that one.

6.Every time I meet a new person, I figure out how I'm gonna fight 'em - you have a gimpy left knee, right?
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
and
Retrospecticus
Monday, June 2, 2008

I haven't lived in Chicago or frequented the Ginger's Ale House with Kurt Dirty in almost a year. My knowledge and participation in the Reds have suffered drastically, but I still manage to watch every odd Saturday morning on FSC or midweek on ESPN for Champions League action. Here are two bookends, a midseason report and a post season summary of the Liverpool F.C. season by Dirty McLiverbird. I can garuntee that there are fewer knowledgable writers on the subject of their side than Mr. Bauer, a treat even for the non-footy fans.

5.Your 2008 Bracket and the 2007 NCAA Tournament
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
and
Not so Crazy (Elite) Eight
Monday, March 17, 2008

I love when Ben goes Moneyball on us. Enjoy these illuminating posts written on the eve and at the midpoint of March Madness. They will tickle your mind grapes.

4.Cubs v. Brewers - A Running Diary
Wednesday, April 30, 2008

The Running Diary is probably my favorite Bill Simmons style of writing. The form is short, largely observational and stylistically open-ended. I find that exploring tangents are the most rewarding aspects of pieces like these. If the Bears somehow sneak by the Vikings and take the NFC North, you can bet that I will commandeer the bourbon and fire up the laptop for another edition. Like splitting aces.

3.A Ridiculous Assumption
Thursday, July 10, 2008

Is it REALLY that ridiculous?

2.The Equivalents
Saturday, February 23, 2008

This is probably my best idea all year, although that’s like picking my favorite Kyle Orton scramble this year. I believe this post will hold up, but my favorite remains the Ice Cube/George Forman comparison.

1.Everything I know about football is wrong
Sunday, February 3, 2008

When you don’t have a horse in the running, sometimes those are the most memorable races. Most recently, the 2004 Red Sox, the 2006 Cleveland Cavaliers over the Detroit Pistons and now, the 2008 New York Giants. I remember driving home the morning after, stunned. The hour-long trip from Richmond to Charlottesville after 3 hours of sleep on my buddy David’s couch, glued to Sportstalk radio, unable to process what it all meant. I got home, fired up the computer and read Ben’s post. An astonishing mile marker in the NFL landscape...
Beautifully.
Fucking.
Illustrated.

Where I tempt the fates...and lose

Ok so, you may recall the other day that I wrote the following about Eli Manning:

"Tonight, he made his own legend. He has earned the praise that will come forth from this world championship. I am sorry, Eli. I was wrong about you."

Yeah, well, then this happened. Now, this all could be written up to a just and loving God telling me to repent for my sins before my life (*gulp* and/or afterlife) is made really miserable.

A mere four days ago, we began our existence in a world where Eli Manning (the same Eli Manning) wins Super Bowl MVP and leads an improbable game-winning drive against the only 18-0 team in NFL history.

Turns out that the rabbit hole goes even deeper.

I suffered through Eli out-playing my hero and beating the Packers at Lambeau, in the NFC Championship Game, at a wind chill factor of negative 24 degrees after I called him out in this space for being a mediocre football player. And now, in addition to residing a mere 15 New Jersey blocks from him, I may have live in the same motherfucking city as a street named after Elisha Nelson Manning.

This is the worst crow I've had to eat and my the toes of my right foot are scraping the back of my throat. Gross, I fucking hate feet, particularly my own.

The vision of my right eye is blurred, time and words are beginning to lose their meaning, I am lost even though I know exactly where I am, and I am seriously considering the bodhisattva path.

I vow to liberate all beings without number.

I vow to uproot endless blind passions.

I vow to penetrate dharma gates beyond measure.

I vow to attain the way of the Buddha.

*gentle sobbing*

Dateline: Foxborough, MA - Has anybody seen our swagger?

The sun has risen and set a couple times since Eli Manning found Plaxico Burress in the corner of the endzone with :35 seconds left in Superbowl XLII to best Tom Brady and the seemingly unbeatable Patriots. I still can’t shake the feeling that, even after all this time, Bill Belichick is going to call an ESPN press conference and pull out a red challenge flag from his sock and put the kibosh on this whole thing. I think Ben’s reaction directly on the heels of the game mirrored many of my emotions and I applaud him for having the gumption to capture that moment. I’ve had a couple days to dwell on “The Mannings: The first family of football” stories that have been surging out of Bristol lately. I even caught a human interest story that was dusted off from late 2004 when Eli was a rookie. I actually remembered seeing it the first time around and was impressed by how awkwardly he shrugged off questions about his draft day choices. It wasn’t tragically awkward like Ricky Williams keeping his visored helmet on during post-game interviews, nor was it confusingly awkward like Tony LaRussa “taking a stand” on a poem the Post Dispatch published “demeaning” the Cubs... It was just plain awkward. It led me to believe that if Eli Manning and Rex Grossman got into a “Yo Mama” confrontation, everyone would lose... including those in attendance.

Now, well... it seems as though all the consternation surrounding this young man has now melted away. He’s as good as advertised. He no longer clings to some notion of “potential” like so many failed quarterbacks have done before him. He’s arrived. His status is set and his reputation has done an about face in a matter of months. As it stands, the American football watching public (i.e. basically everyone) will recall his final drive with a reverence bestowed to only a select few. He toppled the Evil Empire and in doing so, he gave us something of tremendous value. A story for the ages. A standard by which every subsequent Superbowl underdog will be measured. Peyton and Eli. Eli and Peyton. The order really doesn’t matter any more. It’s all gravy train now.

Congrats, New York. You've earned THIS.



P.S. If evidence comes to light that the Patriots filmed the Rams walkthru practice directly before their first Superbowl win in 2002 then I'm officially camping outside the Sports Guy's house in LA and heckling him for three solid months. Bet I won't. I dare ya.

Everything I know about football is wrong

When Terry Bradshaw asked Super Bowl MVP Eli Manning how he felt when Tom Brady and Randy Moss put the Patriots up 14-10 with just over 2 minutes left, I had to turn away from the television. Unlike Lewis Black, I've never done acid and, therefore, there was nothing that could prepare me for that moment.

I wasn't ready for that shit. I feared that listening to Eli's response would change my life to the extent that it would no longer be familiar to me and, concurrently, that the furniture in my apartment would transform into snakes.

It felt like the yawning abyss of an alternate universe lay immediately beyond the precipice on which I was standing. Uncontrollable and hysterical laughing was the only instinctual reflex. Until an hour ago, I believed that Eli Manning is one of the last quarterbacks who truly would want to be in a position to lead a game-winning drive against the undefeated juggernaut that has dominated football in this first decade of the 21st century.

I hoped that his answer to Bradshaw would allow me to believe that the world made sense again. Like, "I wished I was the backup and Jared Lorenzen had to go out there," or "I was so terrified and I peed a little," or "I would've rather been antiquing with my mom."

When the nearest comparison in Super Bowl history to Eli's 12 play, 83 yard drive is the 49ers' comeback win over the Bengals in Super Bowl XXIII, our collective conceptualization of the NFL must be revised. Joe Montana, Johnny Unitas, Roger Staubach, and Tom Brady lead their teams to last-minute victories with a season at stake and under the most agonizingly nerve-fraying circumstances. And now Eli Manning.

Only a legend can author one of the most important and memoable plays in the football history.

As Eli fought men twice his size to stay on his feet on that 3rd and 5, his will was evident in a way that it has never been before. Tonight, he made his own legend. He has earned the praise that will come forth from this world championship. I am sorry, Eli. I was wrong about you. Now please make everything go back to normal.

Ah, much better.

The Descent of Man

September 16th happened in a different year, in a different season. And it feels like the game itself occurred long before then. Looking back on the highlights of that game is a revelation of the lifespan of a season and a tip of the cap to Darwinism in football. The remaining teams of the National Football Conference are a study in evolution by natural selection.

The three characteristics of Darwinian processes are self-replication, variation, and selection. Both the Giants and the Packers have demonstrated (i) an ability to reproduce the performances over a period of months that have won victory on the field, (ii) a sufficient range of traits over the course of the season as evidenced by the variety of ways in which each has been successful; and, most importantly (iii) that such consistency and such traits have allowed both teams to perpetuate their existence. They have done what 14 others have not. They have survived.

The Giants, who were up-and-down during the regular season, bring a crew of seasoned and battle-hardened (and battle-worn) veterans on defense, the reincarnation of Thunder and Lightning (or more appropriately, Ron Dayne and Tiki Barber as they should have been) in the offensive backfield, and Elisha Nelson Manning to Lambeau Field. The most important question in their admittedly shocking appearance in the Conference Championship Game this Sunday, can they achieve a third road playoff victory in three weeks?

In beating the Cowboys and Buccaneers, the Giants have run a conservative, but error-free, offense that relies on the run game and short-to-intermediate passes. The heart of these road upsets, however, has been a defense that has been riddled by injury over the course of the season. Their ability last weekend to pressure Romo, stop the run in 4th quarter, and to prevent T.O. from becoming a factor in the outcome were all impressive.

Please, however, spare me the Eli-coming-of-age story. The Giants' success has been predicated on Eli not losing games rather than Eli winning games. If not losing games is a sign of an individual fulfilling lofty expectations, somebody please squeeze my nipples and wake me up from this nightmare. The number one pick in the 2004 draft on whom the Giants hedged the future of their franchise is "maturing" and becoming a "leader" because he is no longer single-handedly giving away ballgames to the opponent.

In this, there seems to be an eerie resemblance to Peter Gibbons, the quintessential underachiever. In every game and in every press conference, the look in Eli's eyes seems to say, "that's my only real motivation is not to be hassled; that, and the fear of losing my job. But you know, Bob, that will only make someone work just hard enough not to get fired."

This, needless to say, is not sustainable. It means that the running backs and defense must be dominant in each game if they expect to win. Or they must rely on the mistakes of their opponent. We witnessed both of these occurrences in their two road playoff upsets, but it is unreasonable to believe that this will continue with a strong Packer run defense, a battered and bruised Giants' secondary, and a Super Bowl berth on the line. Eli must play the game of his life on the truly Frozen Tundra (the forecast calls for a crisp, clear 4 degrees around kickoff). 12-18 for 163 yards (almost a third of those yards, it is worth noting, coming on 50 YAC by Amani Toomer) will not do it this time and if past performance is any indicator of future success, Eli be fucked. Fucked in the sense that he will not lead his team to a victory and fucked because he will end this season having not proven much of anything. Fucked because the questions still remain.

The Packers on the other hand, benefitted from the bye week and Divisional Round win in which they controlled the ball and imposed their will on their opponent. Offensively and defensively, they simply must continue to perform as they have for the bulk of the season. They are solid against the run, solid against the pass, solid on the line, solid in execution, and solid (for the most part) in protecting and possessing the ball. It is their game to lose and a season is at stake.

For my part, I'm tired of all this. I started this entry on Tuesday. It is Thursday now, and there's not much I can tell you that you don't already know about the x-factors and the match-ups, about each team's journey to this point, and about predictions for the game. The difference in coverage since the last time the Packers played in the NFC Championship Game (in January of 1998) is astounding and disconcerting. It does weird things to your perspective.

My anxiety in waiting has slowly transformed into a dull weariness knowing that, for all the chatter, nothing will be settled until Sunday and that the emotions brought forth to the surface will be turbulent and extreme. Furniture may be broken in victory or defeat. As a football spirals downfield through the air, a stroke becomes that much more likely. Following the game, one's life may seem perfect and tranquil or miserable and troubled. A man far wiser than I once said, "Winning isn't everything, it's the only thing." The stark reality of those words is all-consuming. If victory is the only thing, then losing is the abyss, the vacuum, and nothingness.

The only thing is to live to fight on one more Sunday, one more battle…for survival.