Thursday, February 4, 2010

Pre-Postseason Season-in-Review / Pre-Preseason Season Preview-Preview Nerd Shit Revue Preview


For now, just a preview.

2009 was a year of pain and disappointment and TERRIBLE VIOLENCE or whatever, but before I get to that, I better hit on a few things that have happened since last we met:

- Gaines Adams is DEAD. What the HELLLLLLLLLLL.

- Mike Tice is the new offensive line coach, and he's way better at that than coaching a full team, so I'm fine with that. My only real problem with the dude is that he totally looks like he should be the bad guy rival dad in some family comedy type movie, where he goes "THAT'LL SHOW 'IM, SON!" after his kid totally pulls some dastardly shit on the son of Rick Moranis and/or John Ritter. I just hope 2010 doesn't end with Tice getting punched in the face by a suddenly-no-longer-cowardly Rick Moranis. Or by John Ritter either, because I'm pretty sure that getting punched in the face by a ghost dooms you to hell or something. And I'm fully against Mike Tice burning in hell. For now.

- Dusty Dvoracek got arrested for getting blasted and beating the shit out of someone a couple miles from my apartment again, and by the time the news hit, the reports were already calling him a "former Chicago Bears defensive tackle." So I get the strangest feeling that he's not going to be re-signed this off-season.

- The Bears hired Mike DeBord to be their new tight ends coach. I don't know who the fuck that is.

- Johnny Knox made the final Pro Bowl roster, cementing his place as one of the top fifteen or so kick returners in the league who felt like driving to Florida on a week's notice.

- Mike Martz got hired to be the new offensive coordinator, which is weird, because after all those years of hearing about how the Bears "get off the bus running the football," they hired a guy who seems unaware that you're allowed to hand the ball off sometimes. Another strange thing is that this makes three former head coaches on the Bears' staff, which makes me wonder if they're not stockpiling potential dudes for an impending Lovie firing if shit starts hitting the fan early next year. Also, this reunites Martz with Rod Marinelli, and there's absolutely no way that this couldn't be the most ultimate of winning combinations.



But anyway, yeah, I've decided to start another one of those horrifying by-position season reviews. I'll try to mix things up a little, since there's only so many ways I can re-word "Roberto Garza was kind of okay, I guess," working in a little more nerdfag statistical analysis and such, and I'll try to do it in a different order, because it's hard enough to write something worthwhile about a backup free safety, and it's that much worse when you've gone through like 45 other players and you're burned out from making Marcus Harrison ecstasy jokes and nerding out so hard that you somehow manage to mention that one shitty defensive lineman from a few years ago who never made a real contribution, but you wish he would have stuck around, because his name was TRON. Somehow, I'm sure this will just get stupid and turn into a long, fever-brained descent into madness where I eventually call for the chainsaw-death of Jason McKie and ask Tim Shaw to have my retarded baby or something, but things like that happen when you blog. In the name of randomness, I think I shall start sometime soon with the goddamn linebacker position.

NEXT TIME: THE GODDAMN LINEBACKERS.


Wednesday, February 3, 2010

2009 Lions Season Review, Part 4: The Offensive Line

I thought about using a picture of a wall of shit. I mean, that's much more apt, right? But a wall of shit is a pretty abstract image, and let's be honest here, that would be pretty gross.


This epic clusterfuck of a review continues on with the offensive line, and let me just get the hackneyed joke out of the way now . . . yes, the line was offensive. Thank you, I'll be here all week. Don't forget to tip your waitress. And by your waitress, I mean me.

Okay, lame stand up routines aside, just how bad was the offensive line? I will assume that we can just skip right past the part where we decide whether it was bad or not, because, well . . . have you seen a Lions game in the last, oh, I dunno, 20 years?

Yes, it has been almost that long since Mike Utley engaged in his legendary sit-in and Eric Andolsek found out that you need to look both ways before, uh, doing some yard work. Indeed, those freak accidents crippled(no pun intended for any Mike Utley fans I may have just enraged)the Lions burgeoning offensive line, and although they were able to cobble together something functional for several years, they could never quite recover from those twin blows. And so, for the last decade, once the Lomas Browns and Kevin Glovers and Jeff Hartings of the world got wise and caught a bus out of town or hid themselves as stowaways in a car trunk or faked their own death, or . . . you get the point, the Lions were left with a collection of stiffs who would have trouble blocking a coked out Holocaust survivor. Get it, because they would be super skinny and frail, and . . . and . . . I apologize.

So, coming into this season, there was little hope for even the barest hint of mediocrity. The idea that the line would be actively good was so fanciful and ridiculous that no one dared even think it. It would be like suggesting that the Cardinals and Saints would reach the Super Bowl in back to back years or that someone would attack healthcare reform in the year 2010 as a Bolshevik plot. Wait . . . what? Those things actually happened? Well, shit. Okay, well something else appallingly ridiculous then.

Indeed. It is difficult to properly describe the level of misery and utter hopelessness which permeates every Lions fan's brain when it comes to this sad sack offensive line. It is something we have just learned to live with, a terrible constant, like herpes or Jay Leno.

In this decade of great torment and terrible anguish, two players have emerged as the leaders of this moribund line, the personal embodiments of mediocrity, the avatars of suck if you will. Yes, year in and year out, no matter how terrible it gets, no matter the number of dead bodies littered on the side of the road, no matter the number of underwear thieves and take the wind Martys and jazz hand quarterbacks, Dominic Raiola and Jeff Backus remain, constant reminders that . . . well, that we can't get anyone better.

Raiola isn't horrible. In fact, he's a fairly decent player. He's agile, he's quick, he's smart, and this makes him an asset against quicker defensive tackles. However, he's small, gets bullied by bigger and elite defensive tackles, he likes to bitch at the fans and, well, this hasn't exactly endeared him to a fanbase predisposed to looking longingly at the ol' suicide booth.

Backus is similar - a perfectly adequate player who gets his ass kicked by anyone better than perfectly adequate. These are not bad players to have. It's just that when they are your stalwarts, your bedrock, dudes who have been around for almost a decade, it's easy to turn on them. It's like being stuck in a loveless marriage. At first, it's okay. The other person is no great shakes, but hell, at least they're someone, right? Occasionally, they might make you laugh, the sex is okay, you aren't outright disgusted by them or anything, you know? But by year ten, you just want to strangle the shit out of each other. Not because the other person has gotten any worse, but because you hate yourself for being stuck with them, and you don't know how it has come to this. Everything they do gets on your nerves, every flaw gets blown up and magnified to the billionth degree. By this point, you are completely irrational, completely incapable of looking at them with an objective eye because you can no longer see who they really are. You just see the anger, the dismay, the wasted years and the symbol of everything you wished your life hadn't become.

Whoa. This shit just turned kind of heavy, didn't it? I apologize. But the fact remains that it is an apt metaphor for the relationship between Lions fans and both Backus and Raiola, and with that as the backdrop, let's see what transpired this past season.

Backus retained his usual position at left tackle despite constant pleas from fans for the Lions to do something - anything, really - to replace him. Everyone wanted an offensive tackle picked somewhere early in the draft, but hell, I think a lot of Lions fans would have celebrated if the team signed some fat hobo and stuck him at left tackle. I mean, you could probably just pay the dude in booze. I'm not sure how that would figure under the salary cap, but perhaps there is a Bottle of Thunderbird a Week tag like the Franchise tag or something. I don't know, it's just a thought.

And for the season, Backus was Backus, which is to say that he was a dude who most Lions fans wanted to see get dragged off by the Smoke Monster from Lost. Shockingly though - improbably - Backus was rated by one scout(I can't find the link, which is lazy as fuck on my part, I know, but you'll just have to believe me)as the best tackle in the NFC this past season. What the hell? And then Jim Schwartz came out about a month ago and told us all to stop being idiots because Backus was the team's best offensive lineman. Well, okay then.

There has always been a bizarre disconnect between scouts' and coaches' assessment of Backus and what the fans see on the field every week. This explains why the dude continues to keep his job year after year and why it drives most fans nuts. It's inexplicable really, and it points to one of the great hidden truths when it comes to football - when it comes to linemen, particularly offensive linemen, none of us know a goddamn thing. It's simply too hard to accurately judge their play. There are so many moving parts, and so many different little things that can happen to influence the effectiveness of a particular play, that all we can do is point and guess at what is going wrong. Unless of course you break down the game film and watch it over and over and over and . . . well, 99.9% of us aren't doing that, you know?

But, what we do have are peripheral numbers that help us get an idea of the overall picture. These are numbers like yards per carry by the running backs or number of sacks taken by the quarterback. Unfortunately, these still don't really help us with the individual parts of the line. For that, all we have are our eyes, and apparently, according to scouts and to the coaches, when it comes to Backus, our eyes are about as functional as poor Stevie Wonder's.

So, Backus is sort of a mystery. The people who matter like him. Everyone else hates him. What do we make of that? Fuck if I know. Yeah, yeah, I know, trenchant analysis there. I apologize but it is what it is. A monumental copout on my part? Perhaps - okay definitely - but you see, I have an explanation . . . LOOK, OVER THERE, A PANTSLESS WEREWOLF.

*runs away*

Ahem. Lining up next to Backus, at left guard, was . . . uh, well, it kinda seemed like there was a different dude there every week, didn't it? That's never a good sign. Indeed, the Lions struggled to find a workable solution to the black hole of suck which was the left guard position. When the season started, the Lions chose to insert free agent pickup Daniel Loper into the spot. Loper was a career backup who was regarded as sort of a swing linemen - someone capable of playing multiple spots on the line, sort of like a utility infielder in baseball - which meant, of course, that he wasn't good enough to play consistently at any one spot. Sounds like a keeper to me! Predictably, Loper struggled and was soon replaced in the lineup by Manny Ramirez - no, not that one, although shit, would that surprise you at this point? Ramirez, a former late round pick who seems to have decent ability but for some reason has never quite put it together, also struggled miserably and the Lions went back to the drawing board, inserting everyone from career tackle Jon Jansen to your grandmother in the spot, with no success. Seriously, your grandmother, she can cut block like a motherfucker.

Perhaps the complete lack of functionality at the left guard position helps to explain the negative perception of Backus a little bit. I mean, the dude is kind of alone on an island out there with nobody but your grandmother to help him out, and I know you love your grandmother, but man, decent cut blocker or not, it's hard to appear anything more than overwhelmed when that's the kind of help you're getting.

Raiola was his usual self in the middle, which is to say that he was perfectly adequate. He didn't really do anything all that well, but there was never a point like there always is with Backus that the fans turned on him and started blaming him for everything from the struggles of the run game to the failure of the Weimar Republic in post World War I Germany. Seriously, look at a history book sometime. I think you'll be shocked to see photos of Backus being hauled off by irate Germans caught in a nationalistic fervor. It wasn't Herr Backus' fault that reform failed. He didn't cause hyperinflation, he just worked there, and . . . okay, anyway, enough of that nonsense. The point is, is that while Backus often takes a ton of heat, Raiola never really gets blamed for much.

Unfortunately for Raiola, there is not another Detroit Lion who has had his brain melted more by the trauma of the events of this past decade. Poor Dominic always seems like he is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, like one more loss will turn him into Private Pyle or send him flying down the field, a gun in his hand like that dude in The Last Boy Scout.
In the Year of Unnumbered Tears, Raiola had that famous quote about being afraid to give fans his address after bitching them out because they might show up "with metal." Naturally, it wasn't long before Raiola flipped out this past season and started bitching out fans who were booing Matthew Stafford. You get the real sense that Raiola detests a lot of the Lions fanbase, which harks back to the loveless marriage metaphor from earlier. Once upon a time, we were cool with each other. Now, all we do is argue. So sad.

Raiola is an okay player. He is. It's just that the poor dude could probably use a change of scenery more than anyone else on the team. Unfortunately, even though we no longer love one another, getting a divorce would just leave us broke and with alimony payments we can't afford so fuck it, we're stuck with each other. We will try to love you if you try to love us. Remember, once upon a time we stood in front of an altar, and . . . I'm sorry, this is getting too weird. You get the point.

Next to Raiola, the Lions were fairly comfortable with Stephen Peterman at right guard. Peterman is no great shakes - he's too stiff, slow, bulky, etc. - but he is tough and he will fight you, which aren't bad attributes to have for an offensive lineman. He's the sort of guy who you can get away with playing so long as he develops a rhythm with the other dudes around him. Unfortunately for Peterman, his ankle committed suicide in November and he was placed on injured reserve, meaning that the Lions had to get through the rest of the season with Dylan Gandy and Loper handling the right guard spot, meaning that both guard spots were filled by your grandmother and the dude too shitty to start in front of your grandmother. Not a good thing.

At right tackle, the Lions were hopeful that Gosder Cherilus would improve in his second season. This did not really happen. Cherilus struggled through another season, and was pulled at times for Jansen, leaving me pining for the days of my man Lennie Small. Sure, Lennie sucked too, but at least he was someone I could lean on when I wrote about this bullshit.

I'm not sure what the future holds for Cherilus. At this point, it's not looking too good, a problem because the Lions really can't afford to have a recent first rounder go bust. Although seeing as how Cherilus is the last first rounder picked by Matt Millen perhaps that is entirely appropriate. Still, the Lions aren't exactly in a position to be able to pay too much attention to the right tackle spot. There are simply too many other holes to fill and so I wouldn't be surprised to see Cherilus get shot after shot after shot to make something of himself. I mean, what have we got to lose? Oh. There are games to lose? I see. Excuse me while I douse myself in gasoline and then get this campfire going.

So, as you can see, the line was a fucking mess once again. And, shock of all shocks, the only really stable elements in the line were once again Backus and Raiola. This either speaks well of them or incredibly poorly of the rest of the team. Perhaps both. It's possible that Raiola and Backus are actually pretty decent players. It's just that we can't see it anymore. We are too caught up in the magnification of their flaws to be objective. That's not to say that they are all that good though. Their continued presence just points out one sad and undeniable truth: we don't have anyone else. We may be sick of being married to them, but GOOD LORD have you seen the vapid whores knocking on our door instead? If the other flaming wrecks who make up the line are any indication of what awaits us should Backus or Raiola be pushed aside, well . . . then let's hope they never leave us. We will never be in love, but what the hell, at least we have an understanding.

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN FOR THE FUTURE?

Chaos. Pain. Sadness. Honestly, this line is way too fucked up to fix, like that lady who got her face eaten by a chimp. We can try to patch things up, but when people look at us they will just keep thinking shit like "Man, it looks a little better, but THAT FACE WAS GNAWED UPON BY A CHIMP." That's a hard thing to forget, you know? And so it is with the Lions offensive line. It has been gnawed upon by a chimp, and no matter what we do, it's going to take a while before anyone begins to forget that.

Backus and Raiola are here for the long haul. They will never leave us and we will just have to hope that our kids don't notice our seething hatred for one another. Cherilus may in fact be a turd. I do not want this, but these are strange and terrible times, and we cannot afford to be naive about such things. But he is still young, he will finally get some degree of consistency in his coaching and maybe he can turn it around and be a long term answer at right tackle. The guards are a fucking mess. Really, there's not much else to say there. Both spots need to be upgraded. Peterman is probably someone who we can get by with given ideal circumstances, but circumstances are not ideal, and if our effectiveness hinges on him developing a mind-meld with Cherilus then we may in fact, as Socrates would say, be royally fucked. Left guard is an absolute must improve and I would look for the Lions to grab somebody fairly early in the draft that they can plug in there right away.

Honestly, the picture is not so rosy and it hasn't been for years and years and years - I could almost say decades at this point - and no matter what the Lions do in the offseason, it is unlikely that the offensive line will be anything resembling a strength next year. There is little in the way of prospective greatness here - no young studs or diamonds in the rough waiting to shine - just a collection of overwhelmed journeymen, failed prospects and unloved spouses. Oh, and your grandmother too. Can't forget her. Even if we infuse some much needed talent and hope, that is a talent and hope that will need to be nurtured. Maybe it will blossom in a couple of years, but in the meantime, well, you're just going to have to put up with a lot more ridiculous gibberish like this. I wish it were not so, but what can I say? This is just the way of things and I am merely a messenger.

WHAT I SAID BEFORE THE SEASON: GRADE: D+. I was prepared to go a little higher until I realized there is no depth and the left side of the line is probably going to be pretty awful.

FINAL THOUGHTS/GRADE: Well . . . the left side of the line was pretty awful, but then again so was the right side. On the other hand, the team was able to reduce its number of sacks taken from 52 the year before to 43, while the yards per carry average jumped from 3.8 to 4.0, so there was a little improvement, which looks even better when you realize the anarchy which gripped the line for much of the season. Still, they weren't very good. Kevin Smith struggled to find any room to run for much of the season and Matthew Stafford's Passion Play of a season didn't exactly inspire a whole lot of confidence in the line's ability to protect him. The lack of depth was apparent and harmful, and it all results in what I am going to call a nice round D.

Oh, one final note: I just realized that I forgot to do this whole last part for the receivers in my review of their season, but let's chalk that up to overwhelming grief on my part due to their sheer incompetence and just move on. Deal? Deal.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Magic Beans, Calvin Johnson and Some Gibberish About a Ferrari


It's that time of year when everyone starts poring over the roster, looking for ways for their team to get better, and I wish I could say I was a better man and that I was willing to just let this shit slide for the next several months, but, well, you have seen the 10,000 or so words I have already written in my season review and that shit is only, like, a third of the way done. So, obviously, I can claim no moral high ground here. But that's cool. We are all football obsessed idiots, and sometimes when there is no news we do what obsessed idiots do best and start making up the news, jabbering on idly in the hopes that we will somehow stumble upon the key that will open the lock to our team's fortune.

Sometimes, this speculation is actually interesting and productive - such as my man Ty's piece for Mlive.com's Highlight Reel blog that explored some trade ideas. Obviously, the thought of losing The Lizard King via trade saddens me greatly, mostly because I won't be able to use him and his monkey as a crutch whenever I write about the Lions. But these are terrible times, full of tragedy, and we must remain strong. Therefore, I can be a gentleman and concede that trading Ernie Sims for something useful might not be the worst idea. There, see, idle speculation, but it's reasonable, and really that's the key word here, reasonable. REASONABLE.

You see, I can't really stress that word enough because it stands in stark contrast to the idiot bellowing of a number of Lions fans, reporters and other bloggers who apparently have decided that the Lions' best move this offseason would be to trade Calvin Johnson for a handful of magic beans.

I'll just let you look that over again, maybe think about it a little bit, and then when you are done laughing/vomiting/hurling a brick through your computer screen, we can continue. Well, unless you actually did hurl a brick through your computer screen, in which case, what the fuck is the matter with you? Then again, if you did, then you are not reading this and I am just talking to myself and rambling on for no reason in particular, but what the hell, these are the things that happen when I am confronted with such obvious lunacy.

Trading Calvin Johnson is utterly retarded. There. That should be the end of the argument, but sadly, I am sure there are still a lot of people who will still want to argue this bullshit. Let's break down the inanity, shall we?

There seems to be a growing movement that says that you shouldn't build around a wide receiver, and that's why Calvin Johnson should be traded. This is dumb for a couple of reasons. First of all, Calvin Johnson is no ordinary receiver. The dude is the physical prototype of a wide receiver, a perfect specimen, capable of doing anything and everything you would ever want a wide receiver to do. For fuck's sake, every scouting report about Calvin begins to come across like a letter to Penthouse: "Dear Penthouse, I was watching practice the other day, when this long, lean and supple thoroughbred took the field. His hands were huge, two gigantic mitts which extended to caress the pigskin. Oooooooh, and when he runs, he glides like a dancer, his graceful and tender movements belying a strong and manly frame, and . . ." I mean, GOOD LORD. This is not just some dude who can be swapped out for another receiver. You aren't going to find anyone like him no matter how hard you look. Also, I apologize for that. It was disturbing, I know.

Second of all, who says that the Lions are building around Johnson? From my own humble vantage point, it seems like they're pretty set upon building around Matthew Stafford, with Calvin as the ultimate complementary piece. How well do you think Stafford is going to do with Bryant Johnson as his number one receiver for the entire season? This is just asinine. The best thing you can do to help your young franchise quarterback is to surround him with guys who can actually, you know, play.

This leads us into argument number two, which says that the Lions do need to surround Matthew Stafford with better talent, but that they need to do so up front, along the offensive line. This is all well and good, but I don't care how much time your offensive line gives you, if you don't have anyone to throw to, you're still going to get hit. A lot. The Lions have been woefully devoid of playmakers for too long now, and you want to take away the only one that they have so that Matthew Stafford can sit in the pocket for an extra second and then throw it out of bounds when he can't find anybody open anyway? Huh?

Then there is the magic beans argument, which is the most impatient sort of bullshit you can imagine. Because the Lions are so bad, and have been for so long, there seems to be this tendency to look at anything worth value and then look for ways to get a bunch of lesser parts in exchange for it. I mean, sure, if you have a Ferrari and you are homeless, I guess it makes sense to trade that son of a bitch for some clothes, maybe some soap, some booze and a few cans of food, but I guarantee you that one day you will look back and think what the fuck have I done? The thing is, is that no one will ever give you something of equal value back, so why bother? Sure, to continue this tortured analogy further(seriously this is getting so bad, I think someone is going to start waving the Geneva Convention in my face), it doesn't do you a whole lot of good to ride around in that Ferrari if you don't have anywhere to go, but fuck man, just be patient. Collect some cans, get an apartment, sell some fucking blood, I don't know. But one day you will get back on your feet and when that day comes, I bet you will wish you still had that fucking Ferrari.

God, that was terrible. Anyway, the point is, is that those magic beans might be good to eat, and they might have some fiber and they might get you through the night, but guess what? When you wake up the next morning, you'll still be homeless and then you won't have a Ferrari, you won't have any beans, and you're shit out of luck. Idiot. No wonder you're homeless.

Look, I like beans. They're good for you. But to constantly settle for them instead of hanging onto the one good thing you have is typical of the mindset of a lifetime loser. Now, perhaps that's appropriate given the history of this shitbag of a franchise, but isn't the point to dream big? Isn't the point to want to get better, and not to just give up whatever good things you have in exchange for a quick patch that will make the shitty night a little less shitty? To bring it back around to the football world(oh thank GOD), I would much rather be 2-14 now with the hope that we can be 11-5 in a few years than to panic, throw away Calvin Johnson, be 6-10 now with the hope that we can be, well, 6-10 in a few years.

Hell, why not trade everybody? Hey, DeAndre Levy, sorry, but you look too good, we need to get some value from you now. So we're going to trade you for a fifth round pick and a seventh round pick. Hey, that's like getting two instant lottery tickets! Scratch your ass off motherfuckers, and when you end up winning two dollars after having spent twenty, perhaps you'll realize that maybe you should have just, you know, hung onto what you had in the first place and then built on that.

The people who want to trade Calvin Johnson have no idea how to build anything. They want to essentially build on quick sand, just one panicked move after the other, never letting anything grow, never building on any sort of firm foundation. It's just tossing brick after brick into the sand and watching it get swallowed up while you stand there looking dumb. Haven't we seen enough dumb shit over the years? Do we really need to be exposed to any more of that nonsense? Calvin Johnson is one of the very, very few pieces worth anything that we have. He is a brick. We have to work to build on top of that foundation. It takes some time, but fuck, that's real life. There's no fairy dust, no magic beans to be had. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but well, these are strange and terrible times and none of us can afford to be foolish and naive.

Calvin Johnson is the best thing we have going for us as Lions fans. If you want to trade him, you are a sadist and should be ashamed of yourself. We have suffered enough. Take your magic beans, plant your beanstalk and start climbing because your gibberish is too much for the rest of us to take.

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

2009 Lions Season Review, Part 3: The Receivers



The one good thing we had coming into the season, the one thing that every other fan around the league was envious of, the one thing that made watching another loss somehow a little less painful, the one thing that allowed us to believe that hope was not just some cruel fantasy but a real and tantalizing possibility, was a man named Calvin Johnson. I dubbed the poor guy St. Calvin, shooting him into the stratosphere of Lions heroes that contains such luminaries as St. Barry Sanders, and, uh . . . well, that's about it.

Perhaps this was a bit unfair and a bit ridiculous. After all, St. Calvin has yet to make a Pro Bowl roster and he has done his best work for a team that has finished trapped under a garbage pile for the past couple of seasons. And yet, perhaps that accounts for my irrational exuberance. Here is a dude who is a legitimate blue chip player, a shiny diamond in a see of coal and turds. It is only natural that we would grab hold of that diamond and keep it near and dear to our hearts. It is precious, and it is the only good thing that we have.

Then again, perhaps my enthusiasm came from seeing a guy who is 6'5", can jump through the roof and who runs a 4.3 40. That will tend to get the blood going. I will not tell you where the blood is going because that would just frighten and disturb you, and because I am a man of utmost discretion and dignity.

Ahem. Anyway, my love for Calvin Johnson has been on display here too many times to count over the past couple of seasons. I have devolved into embarrassing and bizarre gibberish about Calvin being Dr. Manhattan and the real Shakespeare, rhapsodizing like a love struck retard in ways that should both sicken and confuse the normal folks out there. Thankfully, none of you are normal, and so you understand.(Insulting your readers is always a good idea, right?)

I predicted big things for Calvin before the season. Unlike my debaculous(yeah I just made up that word, and I don't give a fuck)Kevin Smith prediction, I wisely steered clear of making any concrete predictions about St. Calvin's statistics, but I did predict that he would take a step towards becoming the best receiver in the NFL. In retrospect, I should have just said "Johnson takes another step towards becoming the best receiver in the NFL", thus leaving it ambiguous. I could have claimed that I was talking about Andre Johnson and then fellated myself here, but that would have been dishonest and just plain wrong and I am a man of great integrity and so I have to live with the fact that I was clearly talking about Calvin Johnson, and that once again, I was terribly, terribly wrong.

In my defense, Johnson's relatively miserable year was more the result of freak circumstance than anything he did wrong. He is still a great player, and I think he will climb those steps towards the crown of the greatest receiver in the league sooner rather than later. It just didn't happen this past season. Johnson found himself beat up and injured almost from the moment he began practicing. A jammed finger limited his practice time in the preseason, throwing off his timing with Matthew Stafford almost before it could even be established. And then, once the season did start, Calvin found himself the recipient of a million minor injuries, breaking him down to the point where he was forced to miss two whole games - each sandwiched around the bye week - and chunks of several others. He was never one hundred percent, and aside from not being on the field during the games, he was missing a ton of practice too, further limiting his rapport with Stafford. I suppose the two of them could have struck up a real friendship in their adjoining hospital beds this past season, as they lay dying, but that is a depressing thought, and we have been through enough already and so we will not explore that possibility.

Johnson's numbers for the season weren't horrible, but they were nowhere close to what a top flight alpha dog receiver in the NFL should be putting up. For the season, St. Calvin caught 67 passes for 984 yards and 5 touchdowns. These numbers are depressed largely because Johnson missed two whole games, and large chunks of others, and so they shouldn't necessarily be construed as indicative of a decline in Johnson's ability or play. However - and isn't there always a however with this team? - there were stretches this season where it was obvious that Johnson was immensely frustrated, regardless of who the quarterback was. This is not a good sign.

I have written at length - yeah, when don't I write at length here? - about Lions Disease, that terrible affliction which grabs talented players by the throat and then sucks out their will to live until their withered and desiccated husks are shipped off to some other team or, worse, they just retire in a pool of tears and broken dreams. Its most famous victim is none other than St. Barry himself, who was martyred on the altar of Lions failure, but we have also seen it happen with Roy Williams and virtually every other highly talented player who has had the misfortune to land in Detroit. And so, I wrote this after the horrors of 0-16:

Catching 78 balls for 1331 yards and 12 TD's, with an average gain of 17.1 yards, Johnson became the all everything weapon that the Lions can build on. No matter how bad it got, and holy shit did it get bad, at least we had Calvin, and that's something we can take with us into next season. He's still young, he's headed into his third year and the sky's the limit. Sure, he still drops a few too many balls, but fuck it, I'm not gonna complain. That would be like a homeless dude bitching because his new free apartment didn't have air conditioning. The only thing that worries me, and really, I should say terrifies me, is the incredibly likely prospect of CJ getting beaten down by all the misery that comes with being a Detroit Lion and giving up. It's happened before, so it wouldn't shock me to see Calvin just say fuck it and go through the motions until he is traded. There have already been signs of it. There are times when the poor guy's body language looks like Andy Dufresne's in Shawshank. Again, it's happened before. I mean, this is a franchise that drove Barry Sanders to a tearful early retirement because he couldn't put up with all this ridiculous bullshit anymore. We broke one phenom's spirit, why not another?

Sure enough, there were signs this season that those hazy fears were materializing into a solid and terrible reality. Hopefully, Johnson can stay healthy and Matthew Stafford can keep him happy, because I don't know if I can take seeing another phenom ruined by Lions Disease. I've had enough of that bullshit. Thankfully, Johnson has what appears to be a legitimate quarterback here to throw him the ball for years and years and years to come. And if they both remain healthy and they both live up to their enormous potential, then the future here looks really, really exciting. Then again, this is the Detroit Lions we are talking about and so there is a very real chance that Stafford will break both his legs falling down a manhole while walking down the street and Calvin will have his legs eaten by wolves or rogue sewer alligators while out for a jog.

Also, one last thing. In that little excerpt up there, notice Calvin's numbers from the Year of Unnumbered Tears. You find them, yet? Okay. Just look at those numbers. Pretty damn great. And those came with ol' Noodle Arm, Dan Orlovsky, and the 300 pound Love Boat Captain, Daunte Culpepper, throwing him the ball! You can kinda understand where my ridiculous hope came from, right?

St. Calvin isn't the only receiver the Lions have - although it may often seem that way - and so I suppose we should look at the other turds, er I mean players, who the Lions threw on the field this past season.

Bryant Johnson was signed prior to the season in the hopes that he could be an effective complement to St. Calvin. I immediately dubbed him Johnson the Lesser, but that was not really a knock against Bryant Johnson so much as it was an affirmation of Calvin Johnson's greatness. After all, Johnson the Lesser was a former first round pick in his own right who had proven to be a fairly effective possession receiver during his six seasons in the league. He probably wasn't an ideal number two receiver, but what the hell, he was better than Keary Colbert, John Standeford, the bum from down the street, and everyone else the Lions had.

Against Washington, it looked like Johnson the Lesser would provide a capable number two for the Lions, developing a rapport with Matthew Stafford that hopefully presaged better days ahead. But after that, he did basically nothing the rest of the season. Seemingly every game, he would catch two passes and that was it. Seriously, check the game logs. The consistency of his mediocrity is almost astounding.

For the season, Johnson the Lesser caught 35 passes for 417 yards and 3 touchdowns, bad numbers for a number two receiver - horrible numbers for a number two receiver on a team that has to throw the ball all the time because they are constantly behind - and absolutely abominable numbers for a receiver who is the number one dude for a quarter of the season because the normal number one dude is hurt. Basically, Johnson the Lesser was much, much lesser, and the result was a passing game that completely atrophied as the year went on. Sure, sure, much of this is due to the premature death of Matthew Stafford's poor body, but at least part of the blame has to be put on the receivers, and especially Bryant Johnson, doesn't it? I mean, this was his chance to take the reins and show everyone that he could drive this motherfucker. But instead, he just crashed the son of a bitch and then wandered away in a daze while we all shielded our eyes in horror.

Aside from Johnson the Lesser, the Lions decided to bolster their ailing receiving corps by trading for Dennis Northcutt, who like Johnson the Lesser, had found a niche as a possession receiver. Northcutt was put in the same position when he arrived in Detroit and he responded by having one of the worst seasons of his career, catching 35 passes for 357 yards with one touchdown, and a paltry 22.3 yards per game. Again, Northcutt was saddled with many of the same issues that Johnson the Lesser had to face - inconsistency at quarterback, a general offensive malaise, etc. - but he compounded these issues by dropping too many passes and by not responding well at all when he was thrust into the position of the number two receiver when St. Calvin came up lame.

The Lions also drafted Derrick Williams before the season, and I - along with most others - immediately sniffed him out as a potential bust. Never a really natural receiver, and not a true speed burner, Williams had gotten by in college as an elusive possession receiver who knew how to make people miss. He had a fine career, albeit a slightly disappointing one given the hype that surrounded him as a freshman. I thought he had a chance to contribute a play here and there, as well as frustrate us with his inability to hang onto the ball. Of course, all that was contingent upon him seeing the field a lot, which, well . . . let's look at his stats. Williams only caught 6 passes for 52 yards, and was barely there for most of the season. It's hard to envision him taking a great leap forward in the future, and sadly, I think his future probably resides in selling carpet or making widgets or lying dead in a ditch somewhere. Who knows?

I would love to say that a surprise player stepped up in the midst of all that disappointment and gave us some hope for the future, but that's it man. There was no one else. Okay, there was Yamon Figurs and there was John Standeford, but I don't think their one catch each qualifies as exciting and/or hopeful. The receiver play this past season was shockingly bad, and not to sound like a broken cliché, but while a lot of that has to be on the general ineptitude of the offense and Stafford's traitorous body, a lot of it has to be laid at the feet of this gang of fools, doesn't it? I mean, at some point you just have to step up and make a fucking play, right? No one did, and that's the story of the season for our beloved receivers.

The tight end position was in a similar state of upheaval virtually the entire season, starting again before the season even started, when first round draft pick Brandon Pettigrew was injured during practice. This obviously set back his development, which was especially a problem because there were a lot of fans out there questioning his selection in the first place. Okay, to be perfectly honest, a lot of fans were outright pissed off that he was drafted over Michael Oher and Rey Maualuga.

When Pettigrew did get back on the field, however, he showed quite a bit. He looked exactly how he was described, as a player who could serve as an effective safety valve for Matthew Stafford, someone who would never be a down the seam deep burner, but someone who could move the chains when you needed him to. In only 11 games, as a rookie, Pettigrew caught 30 passes for 346 yards and 2 touchdowns, including the uber-memorable game winning catch against the Browns. I was encouraged by what I saw, and I think it presages better things to come.

Of course, this being the Lions, all that is contingent upon how well Pettigrew recovers from his knee exploding like that dude's head in Scanners. Indeed, Pettigrew's season was unceremoniously ended against the Packers in week 12, and his absence was felt throughout the rest of the miserable season.

And why was that? Because, well, the other tight ends the Lions had kinda, sorta sucked. Will Heller was brought in from Seattle to be the second tight end, a blocking dude who wouldn't figure into the passing game all that much. But with Pettigrew hurt, Heller found himself trying fill that safety valve role and it just didn't work out. For the year, Heller caught 29 passes for 296 yards and 3 touchdowns - not horrible numbers for a number two tight end - but what they don't show is his obvious lack of athleticism and his inability to be the chain moving weapon that Pettigrew appeared to be. Now, that's not necessarily Heller's fault. I mean, after all, he wasn't brought in to fulfill that role, but come on, if you're going to be a pass receiver in the NFL it's probably best that you don't have the stiffness and foot speed of Frankenstein's monster, you know?

Of course, Casey Fitzsimmons was also around, because Casey Fitzsimmons is always around. He did what he did every year, catching a few passes - 18 to be exact - and looking at times like he could be a weapon while reminding us most of the time that he would never live up to his apparent potential. It's one thing for a dude to be a prospect and a sleeper ready to break out as a rookie or second year player, it's quite another for this to be the case in his seventh season. That's right - SEVEN. Fitzsimmons has been here seven fucking years, and he has never caught more than 23 passes - which he did as a rookie by the way, thus sparking all this bullshit about him being a real prospect - a problem when his one skill is, you know, catching the ball.

With Pettigrew out, Heller trying futilely to replace him, and Fitzsimmons wandering around Fitzsimmonsing it up, the Lions were forced to activate seventh round pick Dan Gronkowski from the practice squad, a move which was soon followed by wishing Gronkowski well in his future endeavors. The team then brought in Jake Nordin, who finished out the season with the team, but didn't really do much to identify himself as anything more than a warm body, which is okay if you are trapped in the mountains, but not such a good thing in this case. I'll leave you fine people to write your own stories about being trapped in the mountains with Jake Nordin, because if I start down that road, thing will get, uh . . . well, I'm sure you can figure it out.

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN FOR THE FUTURE?


I think the key pieces are in place for a solid passing attack. Getting Stafford, St. Calvin and Pettigrew healthy together for a whole season will go a long way towards assuaging a lot of the fears about this area of the team. All are obviously very, very talented, and the Stafford to St. Calvin hookup could be absolutely magical.(I mean in terms of the passing game, obviously, not a hookup in the sense that they, well, you know . . . never mind.)

Unfortunately, the situation beyond that trio is pretty wretched. Johnson the Lesser was pretty much a failure in his first season and everyone else was a dud too. The Lions need to find an effective complement to St. Calvin, someone who can make teams pay for double and triple teaming him. Johnson the Lesser does not appear to be that guy. Maybe the Lions can get lucky in free agency, or grab a gem somewhere in the draft, but given the extreme needs elsewhere, I'm not sure how high a draft pick they are willing to spend on a receiver. There's a good chance they take one somewhere in the draft, but there's a good chance it would be a developmental type prospect, and not someone who can step in and help right away.

Maybe Derrick Williams can get it together, but even then, his destiny probably resides at the slot position and not at the number two spot. Maybe Aaron Brown can slide out to the slot and give the Lions some help here, but again, it doesn't fill the hole on the side of the field opposite St. Calvin. As the offseason unfolds, I am sure that options will open up and we'll get a vague idea of who will be that dude, but for now, I just don't know, and that kinda sucks.

At tight end, Pettigrew is obviously the man - if his knee heals, that is - but behind him, I wouldn't be surprised if the team brought in a whole new slew of bodies to compete for the backup job. Ideally, they would get someone who could provide some solid in-line blocking.

There is a long way to go before next season, and right now, the theme is unfortunately kind of the same as it was this time last season: Help us Calvin Johnson, you're our only hope.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

2009 Lions Season Review, Part 2: The Running Backs


It's been a long time since Barry Sanders ran into our hearts and then left us heartbroken and sad when he decided that he just couldn't live with us anymore. I suppose we can't blame him. I mean, he tried, he really did, but after a decade of fighting, and constant disappointment, he was forced to conclude that we were too dumb and broken down, and that we were never going to change. He tried to love us, despite our many, many flaws, but it just wasn't working out, and so he did what so many dudes do in the same situation, and he got the fuck out of town. COME BACK BARRY WE'LL HAVE DINNER ON THE TABLE EVERY NIGHT AND WE'LL DO THAT THING YOU LIKE IN THE BEDROOM THAT WE SAID WE WOULDN'T DO. WE PROMISE WE'LL DO BETTER BABY! COME BACK!

Ahem. Sorry. Anyway, when Barry left, he took with him our hearts, our hopes and our dreams. More than a great running back, he was our franchise, our savior, the one man who made the laughter of other fans worthwhile. Fuck them, we had Barry. But then Barry left, and we have spent the last decade wandering in the wilderness, searching for even a trace of that same ephemeral feeling. We gave up on finding it at running back as a parade of disappointments marched through town, and we recalibrated our hopes for the position. Would it be too much to ask just to find someone who was, I don't know, competent?

It seemed like we had finally found our man when, as a rookie playing for an 0-16 team, Kevin Smith finished with numbers comparable to those put up by Emmitt Smith as a rookie. They weren't great, but they were good, certainly very encouraging, and the way he finished the season seemed to presage greater things on the horizon. For my part, I went completely insane and said things like this:

2. Kevin Smith accounts for 1,800 total yards from scrimmage, about 1,200 rushing and 600 receiving with, say, 12 touchdowns.

That is from a post prior to the season in which I laid out several predictions. Okay, now that you have stopped laughing, you cruel son of a bitch, I suppose it's time for me to hang my head and admit that I am a dumb asshole. It's okay, I am secure enough to admit that from time to time, I make a complete and utter ass out of myself, and this was one of those times. To say that I missed the mark here would be to say that Napoleon missed the mark when he thought that his soldiers would have fun sledding and ice skating in Russia.(What up, history fans!)

Okay, obviously I was wrong, and it speaks to the strange duality of my nature that despite all of the bizarre ranting and raving, the fucked up imagery, and the occasional threats of suicide, I could still be so blindly optimistic. It shows just how much I want to believe in something, anything really, that I am quick to take the slightest glimmer of hope, trap it in a bottle and horde it like that degenerate Gollum in his cave. Kevin Smith, myyyyy preeeeeeecccccioooooooussssssss.

I will apologize for the startling and hilarious inaccuracy of my prediction, but I won't apologize for the spirit in which it was delivered. Reality may have judo thrown me into a world of stupidity, but that's okay, the hopeful are often bludgeoned and left for dead by the wicked. But, in the end, hope is what will allow me to get back up and beat the holy hell out of my tormenters. I will continue to hope and I can just about guarantee you that I will predict something equally as preposterous about Matthew Stafford before next season. It will happen, I know it will happen, you know it will happen, everyone will laugh and we will all move on. But maybe, just maybe, I'll be right, and I can actually be happy instead of cloaking myself in some bullshit cynicism.

Okay, okay, I apologize. This has gone completely off the rails. I will stop screaming like some street corner junky preacher about hope and just get on with this thing.

Anyway, yeah, Kevin Smith. We've already seen the hilariously stupid prediction that I made before the season, so let's just check out the actual statistics put up by the director of Jersey Girl. That is the same guy, right? For the season, Smith ran the ball 217 times for 747 yards and 4 touchdowns. That's only 3.4 yards per carry, which, uh, well, that ain't good, you know? He also caught 41 passes for 415 yards and a touchdown. Which means he rushed for over 400 yards less than I predicted, ended up falling over 600 yards short of the total yardage I predicted, and missed the touchdown mark that I predicted by 7.

We must, of course, keep in mind that Smith missed three games due to injury. Based on the final numbers, let's project what Smith would have put up had he played those three games. If we do that, Smith's numbers project like this: 267-919-5, 50-510-1. Uh, that's still a great big old pile of shit, right?

The simple and undeniable reality is that Smith just wasn't very good this year. There are some mitigating factors certainly. One of which is that the offensive line he was running behind was a wall of flaming poop. It's hard to really be an effective running back when your left guard is flailing about like a drunk quadriplegic in a breakdancing competition, just flopping around, aimlessly, jerking his poor worthless body an inch at a time, hoping against hope that this time he will miraculously be able to do the robot or pop and lock. Okay, so that may have been the weirdest and possibly most offensive analogy I have broken out. To be honest with you, I soar so far beyond the pale when it comes to offensive bullshit that I don't even know where the line is anymore. But if you are reading this, then I assume that you have come to take such things with a grain of salt. If you are a quadriplegic, well, I don't know what to tell you. Just chill out, maybe have a seat. Sorry. That was terrible.

Anyway, while the line was awful, it certainly was no worse than the abomination of a line the Lions trotted out during the Year of Unnumbered Tears. In that shittastic season, Smith still managed to rush for 4.1 yards per carry, which was a hell of a lot better than anything anyone else was doing back there, and which is what ignited my stupid prediction in the first place. That 4.1 ypc average was not exactly spectacular, but given the situation, it was extraordinarily good. Conversely, to see how bad Smith really was this season, we must put his per carry average into that same context. Smith averaged 3.4 yards per carry this season. Meanwhile, his backups, Maurice Morris and Aaron Brown, combined to average 4.29 yards per carry, or almost a yard better every time they touched that ball. That is an astounding difference, and shows just how bad Smith was this past season. It's a stark and brutal number, naked and terrible, and after seeing it you should have a really, really hard time apologizing for Smith's play.

Ah, but there's another factor at play here. Smith was injured against Washington early in the season, in a game, where, perhaps not coincidentally, he was putting up his best numbers of the season. After that game, Smith was never 100%, and his numbers never really approached those that he put up against the Redskins. He kept playing, but he wasn't all there, until finally, his knee exploded in a million different directions in the terrible loss to Baltimore. After the season, we found out that Smith was playing with two fucked up shoulders for much of the season, which certainly helps to explain his generally shitty play. But just how much can be laid at the feet of these injuries?

Well, let's look at how Smith performed before his body started to betray him. Against the Saints in week one, Smith rushed for only 20 yards on 15 carries. Not exactly a piece of evidence in his favor. The next week, against the Vikings, he ran for 83 yards on 24 carries. Not especially inspiring numbers, but given the historical beastliness of the Vikings run defense, that's actually a pretty good performance. The next game was the Redskins game, the one in which he was first injured. In that game he ran for 101 yards on only 16 carries and looked like he was on his way to breaking out. So . . . what does all of this mean?

Well, I think it shows that Smith would have had a bit more success had his body kept its end of the bargain. Of course, that's only based on one very good game against the Redskins and one okayish game against the Vikings following a miserable game against the Saints. I don't know. Really, I don't. There's just not enough info here to make the call. I will say that Smith didn't miss any games with the shoulder injury, playing the next week against the Bears, so apparently it wasn't too severe. Of course, in that game he only rushed for 30 yards on 19 carries, so maybe he should have taken a week or two off.

Frustratingly, whenever Smith was running well, like in the game against the Seahawks, the Lions were forced to abandon the run after falling behind, which further depressed Smith's statistics. It's hard to say how Smith's numbers would have looked had he played on a team that could run the ball throughout the game and if he had remained healthy throughout the season. All we are left with are two things: what the final numbers actually were, which weren't good, and our own impressions. Unfortunately, my impressions were that Smith was a running back who ran hard but simply didn't have that extra gear. I remember during the Thanksgiving game against the Packers, in particular, being frustrated by Smith repeatedly breaking loose only to be hauled down because he didn't have the speed to turn a decent gain into a big gain or a big gain into a touchdown.

My lasting impression of Smith from the 2009 season is of a running back who plays hard but isn't quite good enough to be a feature back in the NFL. That saddens me on a personal level, because Smith was one of the players who I found myself gravitating towards, a player who I began to place my hopes in, a player who I though represented one of the key building blocks in the future of the Lions success. It's also disappointing because it means that there is one more position that the Lions have to shore up. And that's even before taking into account the fact that Smith's knee malfunctioned like the poor Roto-Plooker in Joe's Garage. Of course, that poor bastard fell apart due to a freak golden shower mishap, so perhaps we shouldn't head down that road.

Anyway, weird Zappa references aside, we can't ignore the fact that Smith's knee was fucking destroyed in Baltimore, and while, yes, there have been many advances made by modern medicine in the repair and rehabilitation of ACL tears, Smith is by no means guaranteed to come back at the same level as before. There's a reason why, not long ago, these types of injuries were considered career enders, especially for running backs. An ACL injury tends to rob you of a lot of your lateral explosiveness and agility. It makes it hard to make those quick stops, and those turn on a dime moves necessary for all running backs. For a running back like Smith, who lacks the extra burst that would make some of those deficiencies a little less relevant, it's disastrous. Even if - and it's a big if - Smith is ready to go by the start of next season, there's a real chance that he won't be good enough anymore to carry the load full time. And as we saw this past season, and as I have beaten into the ground in this post, Smith might not have been good enough to begin with.

On that depressing note, we'll take our leave of poor Kevin Smith and focus on the other dudes tasked with running the ball this past season. Maurice Morris came over from Seattle before the season began, and promised to be a competent backup who could still give the Lions something when Smith needed a rest(or "a blow" as announcers often say, which may be the single most baffling phrasing fairly unique to sportscasts. I mean, how can they not understand how that sounds? That little phrase calls to mind, uh, something else, right? What is wrong with them? Or am I just a despicable degenerate? Wait . . . don't answer that.)

When Smith's knee went all Wounded Knee on him(get it, 'cause it was a massacre, and it was his knee, and see . . . see . . . okay fine, fuck you), Morris was forced into the starting lineup. This wasn't that much of a disaster because, well, Smith sucked for most of the year and when Morris had gotten a chance to play, he had generally outperformed Smith. In Morris' first start with the Lions, he ran for 126 yards on only 17 carries against Arizona and added a touchdown. The next week, he only ran for 37 yards on 18 carries against the Bears, but he rebounded in the season finale, rushing for 65 yards on only 16 carries. So, alright, we have one very good game, one shitty game and one mediocre game. Not bad, not great, perfectly acceptable football. Included in all that was one big run, a 64 yarder against the Cardinals which gave the Lions the big play they were missing from Smith.

For the season, Morris ran the ball 93 times for 384 yards and 2 touchdowns. That's a per carry average of 4.1 yards, which is far better than what Smith was able to put up. As a starter, Morris averaged 4.47 yards per carry, or a full yard better than Smith every time he touched the ball. That's probably not fair, due to such a small sample size, but fuck it, I am rolling with it. In addition, Morris proved a nifty little receiver out of the backfield. For the season, he only caught 26 passes for 210 yards, but for the three games he started, he caught 14 passes for 105 yards.

Morris played well when given the chance, and despite the fact that he was saddled with the Lords of Turdtown, Daunte Culpepper and Drew Stanton, during his starts, he still performed admirably and was a distinct asset. I felt confident with Morris in the game, and for a backup running back, you can't really ask for much more. Whether or not he has the ability to serve as a starter is another matter entirely, one that I'll touch on in a little bit.

Aaron Brown made the team as a rookie after I and everyone else had prematurely dismissed him as a bust after the draft. The scouting report said that he was fast but that he was terrible at dealing with contact. Not exactly what you want your weakness to be as an NFL running back. His one chance to make the team seemed to be as the new kick returner, but once the preseason got started, and Brown showed off his speed, we all quickly changed our tune. It was one thing to read that the guy was fast, it was another to see just how fast. He has the kind of electric speed and athleticism that makes a real difference, the special kind that doesn't come around too often, and after a huge touchdown and backflip in the endzone in one preseason game, we were all smitten and there was no way he wasn't going to make the team.

Still, Brown was a rookie and his weaknesses and limitations were still very real, which meant that he didn't see the field all that much. When he did, he was generally pretty effective, running the ball 27 times for 131 yards and adding 9 catches for 84 yards and a touchdown. His per carry average was a healthy 4.9 yards, and whenever he got out on the edge he was a real threat to do some damage. He probably will never be an effective between the tackles runner, but as a change of pace guy and as a weapon that can be moved all over the field, he has a bright future, hopefully with the Lions. I would love to see them stick Brown in the slot on occasion and get him the ball short and then let him make something happen.

At fullback, the Lions went with both Jerome Felton and Terrelle Smith. Smith, the veteran, was probably a slightly better blocker than Felton, but Felton was a better natural athlete and receiving threat out of the backfield. Occasionally, the Lions gave Felton a carry or two, but he didn't really do much with the opportunities. Still, it's nice to have a short yardage guy at fullback who can keep defenses guessing. He emerged as the starter and should remain there going forward.

Smith, meanwhile, was sent packing after an opponent bitched that he was playing dirty. Whatever. He was a dude, and little more than that, and now he is gone.

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN FOR THE FUTURE?

Well, it's kind of murky, both in the short term and the long term. Smith's injury makes it tough to say what will happen. If he returns at full speed, he'll get a shot to prove that he's the main dude, and show that his poor performance was the result of injury more than anything else. However, I'm not so sure that will happen, which means that the Lions might be in the position to find a starting running back before the season starts.

The good news is that Morris is still here, which means that the Lions should have at least one reliable running back option. I'm not sold on him as the starter, if only because he's never really done it before. He's seen a lot of time over the years, first spelling Shaun Alexander in Seattle, and then Smith in Detroit this past season, but he's never been The Man, you know? I wouldn't be that upset if the Lions gave him the shot to be The Man, but again, that's all contingent upon whether or not Smith recovers.

Brown should see his role expand a little as a big play option out of the backfield, and the more ways they find to get him the ball in open space the better. I wouldn't be surprised to see his role evolve over the next couple of years into sort of a running back/receiver hybrid, similar to someone like, say, Eric Metcalf. I like his upside, and I think he's someone who can be a difference maker in the future.

The long term reality is that the Lions need a feature running back. It's looking less and less likely that Smith is that guy, whether he fully recovers from his knee injury or not. Ideally, they would uncover someone in the draft, but again, there are just so many holes to fill that it's probably a mistake to grab someone in this year's draft who is capable of making a difference at running back. Grabbing someone like C.J. Spiller would only mean leaving another dilapidated position untended and rotting for another year. There is simply too much to fix and too little time to do it in. If they can get by for another year with Morris and hopefully Smith, and maybe a cheap veteran free agent, then that's what they will probably do.

At fullback, I like Felton. I think he's a good athlete who brings a lot of things to the table. He can run the ball a little, he can catch it and he's an adequate blocker. I would love it if he became a kick ass lead blocker, but I'm not sure if that will ever happen. More likely, the Lions will try to grab another cheap veteran free agent and hope that he works out better than Terrelle Smith. Hopefully, the combination of Felton and Random Cheap Veteran will result in a solid fullback.

WHAT I SAID BEFORE THE SEASON:

The Lions have a good collection of talent here for the first time since St. Barry's spirit was broken by Lions Disease. I believe that Smith will make a leap this season, and hopefully he can outrun that terrible failure demon before it drags him down and makes him weep bitter tears. Morris is a proven and capable backup and Aaron Brown is the young cheetah that every team loves to have waiting in the wings. Meanwhile, Felton and Smith form a capable and versatile pair of fullbacks. It's a nice cocktail of talent, and, gulp, these dudes might actually be . . . actively . . . good?

GRADE: B+. This could be higher if Smith does indeed take the leap I expect him to. It could also sink drastically lower if Smith doesn't build on the end of his rookie season and if Brown flames out completely. But we are optimists and champions in our hearts and so we won't think that way.

FINAL GRADE: D. I was hilariously wrong about Smith making the leap. Morris was dependable and Brown was indeed a young cheetah, but like I said, this grade would sink drastically lower if Smith couldn't build on his rookie season. He couldn't, and the result is a big fat D, a billion tears, two fucked up shoulders and a knee that ended up looking like it just got off the boat on D-Day. This is what we get for being optimists and champions in our hearts, I guess. Oh well.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

A Day With Coach Daryl Drank

Earl Bennett looks PISSED.

Flashback: Bears training camp, Summer 2009


Coach Drake: Alright men, listen. There's been a lot of talk about this being a weak position, and people are saying things about you being a raw, unproven group of receivers. And that's why I'm here to polish you into a lean, mean wide receiving SQUAD, just like I did in the past with guys like Mark Bradley and Marcus Monk. So the first thing we're going to work on is route-running. IGLESIAS! What do you do when you've reached the end of your route and your quarterback is still scrambling away from the defense?


Juaquin Iglesias: You try and get open?


Coach Drake: NO! No, fool, that's the LAST thing you do! If you're all runnin' around, freelancing and actin' a fool, how will Jay know where you are? When the route is over, it is OVER. You stay PUT. Didn't you ever play Tecmo Bowl, boy?


Juaquin Iglesias: Tecmo... Bowl? I was born in 1987, sir.


Coach Drake: Then I rest my case! Listen to coach, dammit! You listen to coach because he knows THE WAY. Okay. Now, we need to address the issue of catching the football. Remember, men: ALWAYS catch the ball with YOUR BODY. This is important because -


Devin Aromashodu: Are you sure about that, because I was always told -


Coach Drake: DON'T YOU INTERRUPT ME, RASTA! I'm coach, dammit! You put down them dopes long enough to get your attention span back up, and you might LEARN something! Listen to me! Listen to coach, dammit! Have you ever killed a man?


Devin Aromashodu: Um... What?


Coach Drake: Don't you sass me, boy! Stop sassin' and start listenin'! Listen to coach, dammit! Look at your body! Look how big your body is! Now look at your hands! Look how small those hands are! You catch the ball like you kill a man, fool, and when you kill a man, you aim for the center of mass! Why do you think they tell the quarterback to aim for the numbers? That's so he doesn't miss the head-shot and hit the hostage!


Devin Aromashodu: Wait, what!?


Coach Drake: NEVER MIND, DAMMIT! You stop all this sassin' back and pryin' into coach's painful, dark past and start listening! LISTEN TO COACH, DAMMIT!


Devin Aromashodu: Look, coach, um... Coach Dammit? I didn't mean anything by it, I was just gonna say that when I played in Indy, I used to talk with Marvin Harrison a lot, and he used to always tell me -


Coach Drake: You don't listen to no damn Marvin Harrison! What happened when he tried to kill a man? He hit him in the hand! Center of mass, motherfucker! You stop listening to that punk and you listen to coach, dammit! HINES WARD LOVES ME!


Hines Ward: LOL I'm Hines Ward.


Coach Drake: See what I'm saying? How are you ever gonna see the field if you don't listen to coach? Look at Rashied! He listens to coach! And guess what? He PLAYS!


Rashied Davis: YAAYYYY! I HAVE A SECURE JOB ON AN NFL TEAM, YAAAYYYYYYYYY! (runs after a squirrel)


Coach Drake: You see that, men! That's how you succeed! Now get your ass off my practice field and go run some laps, Tommy Chong! You listen to coach, dammit! Do you hear me, Kinder?


Derek Kinder: Yeah, coach! I'm ready to learn!


Coach Drake: That's the spirit! With me taking you under my wing, I think you're definitely still going to be on an active NFL roster come September, son.

---------END--------

Seriously, though, we fired six offensive coaches and still kept THIS dude on the team? 2010 is going to be a long, long year.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

2009 Lions Season Review, Part 1: The Quarterbacks

The Future

Okay, settle in, this post is obscenely long, and I apologize in advance. I wrote it in chunks, here and there, and in retrospect, perhaps I should have broken it up into multiple posts, but fuck all that, it is what it is, which is over 4,000 words of dumb bullshit for your enjoyment and perhaps even edification. The other positional reviews won't be as long - this one kind of serves as a general overview for the season too, in a sense - and I swear I am not some autistic robot, just a damn fool, and well, here we go.

If there was one group of players on this team that caused the most violent and schizophrenic mood swings, it was the quarterbacks. Whether it was celebratory delirium in the wake of Matthew Stafford's Terminator performance against the Browns, or whether it was loping through the streets, angry, afraid and confused, following an apocalyptically bad performance by Daunte Culpepper, the emotions that were inspired by the three dudes who took snaps for the Lions this past season largely set the tone for how we viewed the rest of the team.

That is probably a bit unfair, but it is reflective of two undeniable realities. First, the quarterback is by far the most visible member of the team, and so how he performs stands out a lot more than anyone else. If say, Calvin Johnson has a bad game, he can disappear from the action and while we might notice this, we can't actively say that he is fucking up. He's just not there. A quarterback does not have this luxury. If he's struggling, he still has to take the snaps. There's nowhere for him to hide, nowhere for him to go, no one there to pick up the slack. The quarterback is the one player on the field who, fairly or unfairly, is never allowed to have an off day. And second, because the quarterback is in a unique position to handle the ball on every offensive play, how he plays will inevitably have a much, much more significant impact on the outcome of a game than any other player.

Okay, with that all said, perhaps we can put the schizophrenia of the Lions season in focus. At least a little bit. I mean the kaleidoscopic array of bizarre feelings inspired by this team can never be truly explained - witness this funhouse of a blog - but I suppose we can try. And by examining each quarterback, and how they played this season, we can begin to see how and why this team either made us smile or made us weep tears of blood.

When the season started, there was a lot of controversy regarding who should be the starting quarterback for the Lions. I was in the camp that said we should start Matthew Stafford immediately. I have stated the reasons many times, and in an effort to keep this from ballooning into War and Peace, I'll just refer you to here. The Culpepper backers apparently felt that Daunte gave the Lions the best chance to win immediately, and that Matthew Stafford's development would be hindered by starting right away for such a lousy team. Obviously, I disagreed with both of those assessments.

Unfortunately for me, and everyone else who wanted to put this controversy to bed, Stafford struggled a bit in the first game of the season against the Saints, and that predictably led to indignant howling from the pro-Culpepper contingent of the fanbase. Thankfully, Schwartz stuck with Stafford and as the season progressed, he began to show the signs of a franchise quarterback, piloting the Lions to their first win in a billion years against the Redskins in Week 3. He played efficiently and smartly in that game and for the first time in a long time, it felt like we finally had a quarterback who wouldn't shit all over himself in the clutch. It was a nice feeling. It was like we were a bunch of beleaguered teachers who had spent their lives trying to teach a gaggle of retards how to tie their shoes without pissing their pants and breaking down in tears only to be transferred to a school for the gifted. It was disorienting and kind of confusing, and while we weren't quite sure how to feel yet, and while we weren't quite comfortable, we knew that it was a good thing.

The next week, Stafford came out against the Bears in Chicago and had his best game of his young career to that point. Of course, the game ended with his knee betraying him, which made our fragile sense of happiness and optimism wither away and crumble into dust. All we could do is sit back and watch it blow away on an ill wind and hope that Stafford would be back sooner rather than later.

But, for Culpepper backers, and Culpepper himself, this was the chance to show everyone that he was indeed worthy of a starting job once again in the NFL. It was a strange time, because if I am being honest with myself, I really didn't want Culpepper to do that well. I know, I know, that sounds absolutely horrible, but I am a man of the future, and I believed, with all of my heart that Matthew Stafford needed to be the man now if he was going to be a king of men in the future. The last thing I wanted was for Culpepper to be just competent enough to keep Stafford on the bench for the rest of the season and for next season to start with Stafford a relative unknown quantity while Culpepper fled for a billion dollar contract to quarterback some shithole team to a 6-10 record.

Still, I wanted the team to do well, regardless of the quarterback situation, and that created a sort of weird internal melodrama that had me both rooting for and against Culpepper. I wanted the team to win, but I also wanted it to be clear that they needed Stafford, if that makes any sense. It probably doesn't, but what the hell, this whole season made little sense and so that is probably appropriate.

Culpepper came out against the Steelers and actually played reasonably well - for a while anyway - keeping the Lions close enough that they had the chance to tie the game on a final drive late in the fourth quarter against the defending Super Bowl champs. It was pretty much exactly how I wanted it to go down. Culpepper played well enough that it didn't hurt the team, but not well enough that he was creating any sort of real quarterback controversy. Of course, on that final drive, Culpepper was sacked three times in a row, effectively destroying any chance the Lions had at coming back. It was a stark and brutal reminder of Culpepper's deficiencies - he's not good under pressure, makes terrible decisions, etc. - and I recall being left with the impression that the team was getting better but that Stafford was probably still the man.

Then the Lions took a little trip across Lake Michigan and everything went straight to hell. Culpepper played like a man who would be run off of a sandlot pickup game and the Lions were destroyed. Quarterback controversy? Uh . . . no. Unfortunately, this wasn't because both quarterbacks had played out of their minds and Stafford gave the coaching staff no choice but to anoint him Matthew the Great, King of Detroit, but because Culpepper had played so horrifically that the idea of him as a starting quarterback going forward was so brutally depressing. It was an awful thought, just horrible, and it made us all remember that we were still perilously close to the hellmouth that had swallowed us up the season before.

So, with Culpepper having committed suicide against the Packers, the Lions desperately turned to Stafford even though the poor dude was still probably too banged up to play effectively. I will note that this whole time, Ol' Plucky, Drew Stanton, was still hanging out on the sideline, ready and waiting for his chance to step in and lead the Lions to glory. It says a lot about the coaches' opinion of his abilities that they felt like they had no choice but to either play a physical cripple or a mental cripple.

So, Stafford was back in, and with him, a sense of hope returned. There was the belief that now that Culpepper was dead and buried, we could move forward once and for all. The old was dead and gone, its corpse burned and tossed into the Detroit River, and we could finally celebrate a new age. It was okay that for the first few games back, Stafford struggled. It sucked, we wanted both him and the team to do better, but it was somehow okay because at least they were growing together, and that one day, hopefully soon, they would have that breakout performance and then we would be off and running.

And then Cleveland came to town, and Matthew Stafford became the Terminator. It was the kind of performance that had me rhapsodizing like a love struck retard. It was embarrassing and vaguely pathetic, sad in a kind of pitiful way. It was just such an alien feeling, that feeling of uncontrollable hope, and for once it was nice to babble on about how good it felt to be a Lions fan. I had forgotten that feeling, and while it was disorienting and difficult to really express that feeling without devolving into inane gibberish, it was wonderful and it was because of Stafford.

After throwing for over 400 yards and 5 touchdowns, there was little doubt that this dude could get it done in the NFL. But even more than the gaudy final numbers was the incredible toughness, both physical and mental, that Stafford displayed. Caught in a shootout, the 21 year old whose public persona prior to the season was best captured by the famous shots of him getting shitfaced with coeds, showed that he was a natural leader who could rally and inspire his teammates to keep fighting every time they fell behind. That's a rare gift, and combined with his obvious physical talents, it signaled that the future for both Stafford and the Lions was filled with sunshine and blowjobs.

It almost didn't matter that Stafford's shoulder was ground into hamburger meat on the second to last play of the game. By breaking free of the grasp of the trainers and staggering back onto the field to throw the game winning touchdown with no time left on the clock, Stafford became a hero and provided us all with the one indelible moment that we will always remember from this past season. We knew that he was hurt and that it probably meant that he would miss some time, but fuck it, we got what we wanted, Stafford was the man, totally and completely, without question or reservation, and whatever came next would be worth it.

Unfortunately, we are Lions fans and we should have known better. There was an undeniable sense of pride and giddy happiness when Stafford trotted out onto the field only four days later to start against the Packers on Thanksgiving. Daunte Culpepper threw a hissy fit on the sideline when he was told he wouldn't start, but that was just a shameful sideshow to the main story, which was that Matthew Stafford was tough as nails, and that he was already making himself a legend. Sadly, though, real life intervened, as it often does, and it was clear that Stafford was too hurt to be truly effective. He started one more game, against the Bengals, and after getting smoked once again by a pass rusher, his shoulder cried mercy and that was it for him for the season.

Sadly, and cruelly, there were still four games left to play. And with Stafford stuck inside of a plastic bubble for the rest of the season with a team of Ninja Monks with Bazookas standing guard over him, the Lions had to finish things off with Daunte the Lame. Predictably enough, Culpepper was terrible, just atrocious really, and a sense of ennui settled over Lions fans everywhere. The excitement and promise in the wake of the Browns game was all gone, trapped in that bubble with Stafford. There was the sense that none of it mattered, that the rest of the season was just a cruel death march with no point or reason.

The fanbase perked up a little bit when Culpepper became so bad that the coaches had no choice but to put him down like a lame horse and insert Ol' Plucky into the starting lineup. A fan favorite, both because of his local ties and because there was the perception that he had never been given a fair shot, Drew Stanton finally had his chance to show that he could be a viable NFL quarterback. With every Lions fan but one desperately hoping that he would steal the show, Stanton utterly shit the bed, playing so poorly that Jim Schwartz was forced to drag Culpepper back from the glue factory and stick him back in the game. And with that, the Lions season died an ignoble and cruel death.

Alright, so the season is over, the ugly details have been vomited back up, and now we have to figure out what we're left with. Let's take a closer look at the stats.

Stafford was 201-377 for 2267 yards, with 13 touchdowns and 20 interceptions. That's only a completion percentage of 53.7%, which is not all that good. In fact, the numbers as a whole don't look so hot, but this is partially because Stafford was put in a position where he was forced to throw over and over and over again because the defense was getting destroyed like Germany circa 1945. This meant that he didn't have the luxury of being all that efficient with the ball. He had to throw a lot when everyone in the building knew he was going to throw. That's going to lead to a lot of incomplete passes and a lot of interceptions, especially for a 21 year old who's missed a lot of practice time and whose only playmaker has also been banged up.

Stafford actually threw for 226.7 yards per game, and if you extrapolate that over the whole season, pretend that he was healthy and all that, that means that he would have thrown for north of 3600 yards as a rookie for a shitty football team. That's not bad, right? And we have to take into account the fact that he was hurt for a lot of the games that he ended up playing. I think that the chances are good that he would have thrown for even more yardage had he been healthy for those games. And on top of all that, we have to remember, again, that he was missing practice and couldn't develop a rhythm with any of his receivers, which is paramount for any quarterback. For a 21 year old rookie, it's not just important, it's a requisite for even the barest of competence. The fact that Stafford did what he was able to do given all of the above is pretty astounding when you think about it. If he had been allowed to progress linearly, without interruption, there is a chance he would have made an assault on the 4,000 yard mark. Of course, if we continue to extrapolate the numbers, we see that he would have ended up throwing 32 interceptions, which . . . okay, that shit is bad. But again, there are some extenuating circumstances, and if he was given the ability to regularly practice with his receivers, and given a chance to progress week to week, I think that number would have come down.

Of course, I recognize that I am just reaching for something - anything, really - to make me feel good about this season, and my liberal massaging of the numbers is something you would probably ordinarily only find in a seedy Asian whorehouse, but I really do feel good about Stafford. You have to remember that in the great rookie QB battle, between Stafford and Mark Sanchez, that their final numbers ended up being fairly similar. Then if you take into account the fact that Sanchez was healthy and played six more games for a playoff team that didn't ask him to do anything other than not fuck up too much, it makes Stafford look all the better. If you flipped those two quarterbacks, put Stafford on the Jets and Sanchez on the Lions, I think Stafford would have been the Rookie of the Year without question and we would all be sobbing and comparing Sanchez to Joey Harrington.

Okay, okay, I have contorted myself and the numbers so much that I feel like either a despicable street performer or some Thai whore, although I suppose those two things are fairly synonymous. But I am willing to do just about anything to make Stafford look good in the wake of what was an otherwise disaster of a season, and really, isn't that kind of the point? That for once, there is a player who makes me want to stand up and defend him? Most of the time, as you will see in the rest of this post, I am all too willing to savage and cannibalize some poor fool for the sin of suckage, but with Stafford, I am willing to excuse the mistakes and point a stream of light at the positives because he gives me hope. It's that simple.

Daunte Culpepper, in 8 games this season, completed 89 of 157 passes for 945 yards, with 3 touchdowns and 6 interceptions, further cementing the perception that his future doesn't reside under center, but at the helm of a, uh, let's say a Loveboat. Sure, Culpepper's completion percentage of 56.7% was a bit better than Stafford's, but that is more reflective of Culpepper's devolution into what my man Ty termed a human checkdown. Culpepper didn't throw the ball downfield nearly as much as Stafford, as evidenced by his paltry 118 yards per game, and when he did it often resulted in comical interceptions and badly underthrown balls, which is baffling when you consider that Culpepper's only real asset is his arm strength. It was like someone managed to combine the worst traits of Culpepper and Dan Orlovsky, and, well, there you go.

Of course, Culpepper is delusional enough to believe that he can be a quality starting quarterback in the NFL, something that we had beaten into our brains by idiot announcers week after week after week. Well, let's take a look at just how ridiculous that is, shall we? Culpepper's last good season was in 2004, or five years ago, or in football terms, 50 years ago. Since that Fantasy Football Championship Season of Culpepper's in '04, he has played 31 games, thrown for just over 5,000 yards, 20 touchdowns and 32 interceptions. That, uh, that isn't good, you know? What in any of that mess suggests that Culpepper will ever be a decent NFL quarterback again? It took him FIVE YEARS just to match the yardage total he put up in 2004, and he has thrown for half the amount of touchdowns in FIVE YEARS that he threw for in '04. The dude is done and he's been done for a loooooong time.

But, you say, there is another. Indeed. Ol' Plucky, Drew Stanton, also saw time at quarterback this season, and let's see what he did with that time. In four games, only one of which he started, Stanton completed 26 of 51 passes for 259 yards, along with 0 touchdowns and 6 interceptions. Yikes. Look, my position on Stanton has been beaten into the dirt, exhumed and then defiled way too many times already, so I won't launch into a screed here, and I will just say that the dude isn't a very good quarterback. Do I think he has a chance to be a viable backup somewhere? Maybe. But I still haven't seen anything that shows me even that. Maybe he's a decent third string type, but honestly there really is no such thing. You have your starters, your backups, and your carpet salesmen, and chances are good that Stanton will be doing something other than playing football within the next couple of years.

Okay, okay, so in this fractured season, it's tough to get a sense of how the quarterbacks performed as a whole just from looking at their individual statistics. So, let's look at them all added up. This should be fun(He says as he secures the noose around his neck).

For the season, Lions quarterbacks completed 316 of 585 passes for 3471 yards, along with 16 touchdowns and 32 interceptions. They were also sacked 43 times, and well, uh, there you go. Draw your own conclusions, because I have drawn enough - both obvious and convoluted - in this post, and those numbers really do speak for themselves.

WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN FOR THE FUTURE?


Well, because I am a gentleman and I do not feel like carjacking poor Doc Brown, I can't be entirely sure, but I will do my best to speculate, because if nothing else, that is the essence of blogging in these strange and terrible times.

Anyway, it's clear that Stafford is the man. This point is indisputable. At least I hope. There are always a few blathering idiots out there, so who knows? But what is a bit more hazy is whether or not he will ever amount to, well, the Superman that we so desperately need. I think he will. I have said it multiple times, and I truly believe it, that Stafford is a star. He has all the physical tools and he showed this season that he obviously has the toughness, both mental and physical, to be not only a starting NFL quarterback, but that rare quarterback who can transform an entire team into a winner. That's a hell of a bold statement to make, but I stand by it. Matthew Stafford will be a star in the NFL and I have no doubt about it.

As for what languishes behind him on the bench, well, Daunte the Lame's days in Detroit are thankfully and mercifully almost definitely over. I wouldn't have qualified that with the word 'almost', but Martin Mayhew, in a recent brief comment, terrifyingly said that he wouldn't rule out leaving the door open for Culpepper to return. If this happens I think my face might melt like those Nazis at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Hopefully, Culpepper's delusions of grandeur will keep him hunting for a starting job for some other poor team, and we can eventually try to put these trying times behind us.

Stanton, on the other hand, is an interesting case. Not so much because he is any good - obviously, I don't think he is - but because so many fans still see him as a dude who has never been given a fair shot. I think that we'll see a lot of clamor by Lions fans to keep Stanton as the number two behind Stafford, but honestly, I hope this doesn't happen. It says a lot about Stanton's ability that not one but two different coaching staffs and front offices have deemed him unworthy of even a chance despite the dumpster fire going on. I mean, the dude couldn't even see the field when Dan Orlovsky was chasing fireflies or whatever the fuck he was doing in the back of the Metrodome endzone, or when Daunte the Lame waddled onto the field after playing Mr. Mom last year. That's bad. And then this season, he still couldn't see the field, until Culpepper became so bad that I'm pretty sure they would have yanked him even if they didn't have a backup. They would have just stuck Jason Hanson back there and kneeled down the rest of the game. Needless to say, that doesn't exactly speak well for Ol' Plucky. And when he did get his shot, he completely shit the bed. It was horrible.

Basically, what I want to see is this: Stafford stays and starts, obviously. Then I want the Lions to bring in a veteran on the cheap to back up this season - Patrick Ramsey is already hanging around, why not him? - and then bring in a young dude to develop as Stafford's backup for the future. I would advocate spending a late round pick on a dude like Tony Pike out of Cincinnati, but honestly, there are just too many holes to fill already, and so if the Lions can grab some other team's late round castoff off of the waiver wire, then that would be great.

In any event, the future at quarterback is bright for the Lions. That is the first time I have ever been able to say that. Not just in my time writing here, but in my entire life. That is unfathomably sad and kind of obscene in a way. But to hell with all that, the past is the past, and the future is Matthew Stafford, and that's a good thing.

WHAT I SAID BEFORE THE SEASON: Grade: C. I expect a lot of mistakes mixed in with some big plays, some throws from Stafford that make you go HOLY SHIT and get all hot and bothered and then some throws that make you have flashbacks to that smilin' fool tickling the ivories. C for competence, which is a hell of a lot better than we are used to.

FINAL GRADE: Okay, I'm not going to give a final grade here, because really, the season was too fractured. I was impressed with Stafford and I think my assessment above was pretty on target - if anything, I was a bit happier than that with Stafford's performance, but largely because of what it presaged more than what it meant right in the moment, if that makes any sense. It probably doesn't, but what the hell, neither does anything else in this post. Both Culpepper and Stanton get obvious F's, just for you vampires who need to see their failure interpreted in such a way.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Vaya Con Dios, Stan Kwan. Vaya Con Dios.

Well . . . bye.

Indeed. The long awaited news that Stan Kwan had been dragged to the gallows and hung from the neck until dead came on Friday, and hopefully that means that the Lions are serious about finally turning around the dumpster fire that has been the special teams play over the last several seasons.

It's been a while since the Lions were any good at either returning kicks or covering them, but believe it or not, once upon a time this was the one area of the team we had to be proud of year in and year out. Whether it was the steady punting of Jim Arnold or the almost unfathomably long kicking career of Jason Hanson, the kicking game always thrived. That hasn't fallen off all that much since Kwan replaced the dearly departed Chuck Priefer, but the kick return and coverage games certainly have. Ohhhhhhh LORD, have they ever.

We used to take an absurd amount of pride in our kick returners, from Mel Gray to Desmond Howard to Eddie Drummond. It was sort of sad really, but we don't have much to get excited about as Lions fans, and so we held these dudes up as one of the few things that we got right. They were ours, they were better than your dudes, and everyone else could go to hell. It was easy to take that for granted, the same way we have done for years and years and centuries and centuries with Hanson, but Stan Kwan wasn't having any of that shit. Hell no! Excellence is overrated and gaudy, flashy and the sure mark of a prima donna. We would win with Aveion Cason and rejects from The Lennie Small Memorial School for the Retarded. And win we did . . . not.

I know, shocking, right? It's hard to win a race when you downgrade from a Ferrari to a goat pulling a wagon missing its wheels, and that probably mitigates Kwan's tomfoolery a bit. But, you've got to remember, he was the one who hooked that goat up to that dilapidated wagon, slapped it on the ass and told it to run. He may not have been the biggest problem, but he sure as hell wasn't the solution either.

But aside from the lack of explosiveness in the return game (And really, let's be honest, a lot of times, these dudes weren't even competent. Remember that game a few weeks ago when Brian Witherspoon bobbled the ball, went back and grabbed it in the end zone and started running around like a confused and frightened gerbil before finally just taking a knee, and for a second everyone was terrified that the dude just took a safety? Yeah. I haven't mentioned that before because, honestly, I think elves sensed my pain and delved into my brain and mined that fucker out. I am guessing that an evil elf, let's call him Clyde, decided to torture me by sticking that image back in my head just now. Fuckin' Clyde. What an asshole. Wait . . . where am I? What's going on? Whoa, are you serious? This is all taking place within a parenthetical digression that has completely destroyed the flow of this sentence? Who am I talking to? Clyde, is that you, you sneaky bastard?), the kick coverage teams were also routinely terrible, running around aimlessly while opposing kick returners danced their way to six. It was an awful situation, and again, even if the talent wasn't really there - let's not forget that because the Lions have sucked so egregiously that a lot of their special teams gunners like Paris Lenon have been yanked off of the special teams and forced to start on defense - Kwan certainly wasn't doing anything to make the situation actively better, and really, isn't that kind of the point of a special teams coach?

Okay, one last memory and then we'll get the hell out of here. The Lions lost to the Rams this season. You know the Rams, the one team with a shittier record than the Lions? The one team with only one fucking win? Yeah, those dudes. Does anyone remember how they beat the Lions? On a fake field goal - a play which their players said after the game they knew would work because they studied the Lions tendencies all week long and knew that that side of the field would be wide open - they scored a touchdown that was really the difference in the game. That has nothing to do with personnel. That's all on Kwan, may he rest in peace.

Okay, so Stan's dead. Where do we go from here? Well, the popular and obvious choice would be to throw tons of money, whores and booze at Buffalo's recently departed super-coach, Bobby April. April is responsible for turning Buffalo's special teams into world beaters season after season. He's the top dude in the league at what he does, and really, this is pretty much a no-brainer. Unfortunately, the Lions haven't exactly shown over the past fifty years or so that they actually have a brain, so who knows what will happen? Perhaps things really are different now with Mayhew, Schwartz and Co. calling the shots at Ford Field. And perhaps they will do what I, along with many of my esteemed blogging colleagues, like Steve over at Detroit Lions Weblog or the dudes at The Church of Schwartz, really, really want them to do, and hire April.

Of course, April is coveted by every other team in the league, and when you realize that in the dating pool known as the NFL, we are the equivalent of a 350 pound shut-in with cheesecake smeared all over her face, the idea of April ending up in Detroit starts to feel a little far-fetched. Still, we have other things going for us. I mean, obviously we make a hell of a cheesecake and our slam poetry is hot shit. Sure, we might disappear for a couple of hours into our rooms where we will sob and cut ourselves, but we will be devoted and really, you can't put a price tag on that, right? RIGHT???

Anyway, vaya con dios, Stan Kwan. May you have a coin to pay the boatman before he ferries your shameful ass out of this world. And look here, Bobby April. You see us batting our eyes? That's for you, my man. Ignore all those other sexy ladies. They are all whores and will give you The Clap. We are clean, and need a good man to steer us in the right direction. I know, we can be a little strange, but these are strange times, and our love will rock your world.

Monday, January 4, 2010

Well, That's That, I Guess



Well, it's over. Finally. Mercifully.

In some ways, the end of this season was worse than last year. I know that sounds utterly ridiculous and I should probably be beaten about the head with large sticks for saying that, but hell, at least 0-16 was interesting, you know? Every game there was something to play for. It was like its own perverse little playoff run. ALL WE NEED IS ONE WIN AND WE'RE IN! This season, after Matthew Stafford finally was dragged to the sideline and stuffed inside a ton-ton by Han Solo(man, that's some epic nerdery right there), every game was just an exercise in grim and pointless death. Even the thought of potential victory couldn't elicit much joy because the whole thing just felt like it was taking place inside of a joyless, pointless vacuum. It had no bearing on the bigger picture, no bearing on what had come before or what would come after. It simply was there, in the moment, worthless and without real joy or sorrow.

But it's over now, and we can finally start to move on again. Matthew Stafford will be healthy next season, we will have a whole new draft class that will hopefully be as good - and healthier - than the inaugural Mayhew/Schwartz draft class, and maybe, just maybe, there will be a chance this team can actually be semi-decent. But that is a long way off, and a lot has to go right in between now and the beginning of next season for any of that to really be possible, and considering this epic fuck up of a franchise's track record, none of us should get our hopes up. Let's just take it as it comes. Remain hopeful, but let's not get carried away with dreams of candy and blowjobs for all. Yes, this is me trying to keep myself from getting bludgeoned like I did this season, when the buzzword was hope, and when that hope came crashing down, all we were left with was an empty and desolate wasteland that somehow was even more depressing than the apocalyptic fires of hell we were caught in the year before.

2-14. How did it come to this? In my season preview, after a billion words, a lot of tears, some sweat, and even a couple of mild erections(wait . . . what?), I said that the absolute bottom for this team was probably 3-13. In retrospect, this was probably wildly optimistic. I mean, the real bottom for a team coming off of an 0-16 season can't really be quantified, and it's kind of absurd to honestly believe that the worst case scenario involves a three game improvement, but what the hell, 0-16 made monsters and idiots of us all. Still, even 3-13 seemed like a terrible mark for this team. I was thinking somewhere more along the lines of 5-11 and I even hoped for 7-9. Yes, you can both laugh at and pity me because my wildest dreams for this team involved a 7-9 record. Still, seven wins was an absurd hope, a massive improvement over what came before. But 5 wins, for whatever reason, seemed feasible, seemed doable. It meant the team would still be pretty shitty, but not Lions shitty, if that makes any sense. Of course it doesn't, but what the hell, you are all used to nonsensical blather from me by now.

Still, none of that answers the question of how 2-14 came to be. It's all just a lot of noise about unrealistic expectations and fanciful hopes. The stunning reality is that, had everyone stayed healthy, I think 5-11 would have been more than doable, and 7-9 could have even been had - if things had broken just the right way, anyway. And that's the sad story behind this once hopeful season. No one could stay healthy. It's simple, it's not really all that exciting, and it doesn't involve me breaking down into weird gibberish about werewolves jello wrestling with vampire apes and Tom Cruise(which, sadly enough, is something I think I have actually written before). This team suffered an absurd amount of injuries to everyone - from the franchise quarterback to the starting running back to the 53rd man on the roster - and the Lions simply had no hope of recovering from any of it.

The sad reality, the one that made 7-9 a wildest dream kind of scenario, was that even with everyone healthy and everything breaking right, this team simply wasn't good enough. They were too thin at key positions, too inexperienced and under-talented to truly be able to compete this year, and they would have had to fight with everything they had just to tread water and keep from sinking into that vast ocean of failure once again. It becomes impossible to even tread water though when someone comes along and cuts off your legs and breaks both of your arms. And so, like every other miserable year, the Lions drowned.

The thing is, though, is that this isn't quite just like every other year. Usually, there's nothing really to look forward to, because usually the Lions drown even with all of their faculties and limbs intact. They simply just aren't ever good enough, and there's little hope in expecting them to miraculously swim one day. But this year, we saw flashes, we saw hope, we saw them start to kick and not only tread water, but start to move against the tide towards shore. It was slow, almost imperceptible at times, but it was there, and when they did move, it was wonderful and it made me truly believe that some day not so far off they will make it to shore, climb out of the water and run amok on the shocked beachgoers, naked and . . . okay, I have carried this way too far, but what the hell, certain moments this season made me excited, so you can't really blame me.

Matthew Stafford will be a star. I am not afraid to say that, point blank, and without reservation or qualification. He will be a star, and that is an awesome thing to not only believe, but to know. He wasn't healthy virtually the entire season, and yet, without much practice time with his receivers, without a functioning shoulder or knee, he managed to make the Lions seem like they were on the verge of something good for a change. I can't tell you how rare that is around here. We don't get to feel that very often as Lions fans, and when it comes along it is almost like a jolt of raw electricity, shocking us out of our dazed ennui and making us want to believe that we might actually be able to root for a real live functioning football team again one day.

When Stafford went out for the season, it was a stark and brutal reminder of just how much he changed the dynamic. It was stunning really, to realize that with him, the football world seemed so much brighter, so much warmer, than it did without him. With him, the football world seemed open, inviting, and we couldn't wait to clamber over the next hill to see what was on the other side. Without him, it felt like a fucking Gulag. It was cold, miserable, and utterly without hope, point or reason. All there was to wait for was grim death, and on Sunday, against the Bears, when the final gun went off, that's finally what we were given.

I don't know what next season will bring. Good things, I hope. I'm just glad that whatever this season was is finally over. I wish it could have been different. I wish I could have watched Matthew Stafford, Brandon Pettigrew, Calvin Johnson, and everyone else develop together, game by game, getting better and better, stronger and stronger. But that's not the way it happened, and that's just the way it is. We got what we got, it was disappointing, exciting in isolated bursts, and in the end confusing and schizophrenic. It's hard to know exactly how to feel about it all. Sad? Hopeful? Angry? Relieved? Maybe all of those, and more, are appropriate right now. All I know is that I'm excited to see what comes next, and honestly, it's been a really, really long time since the Lions let me feel that way.

One last note: with the end of the season, I won't be posting as much - obviously - but I will still post fairly often. At least once a week, maybe more if I'm in the mood. In the coming weeks, I will be posting my massive season review in chunks. It will be absurd and will probably end up being completely unwieldy, but what the hell, we have come this far, there is no point in moderation now. I will also talk about whatever newsworthy bullshit surrounding the Lions pops up, the draft, etc., and so there will always be shit for me to write about and for you to hopefully read, so stick around, keep checking back here, and all that jazz. We have been through a lot over the past couple of seasons, and for those of you who have been reading this gibberish from the start, well, number one, you are insane, and number two, thanks for sticking with me. And for those of you who have discovered this weirdness somewhere along the way, well, first of all, I apologize for dragging you down this fucked up rabbit hole, and secondly, thanks for giving it - and me - a chance. I write far more about this bullshit than I probably should, but I am a prideful beast, and I love to write and the combination leads to whatever the hell this thing is that is my corner of this blog. We are all idiots and fools for caring about such things, but to hell with all that, I am your idiot, and you are my fools, and that is good enough for me. I am just rambling now, and for the six people who are probably still reading this, I apologize, and as always, vaya con dios.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

The End Complete

Help me I'm in pain

I've been meaning to post something for a while; I really have. But for most of the last month or so, I'll start typing and realize that there are only so many ways you can reword "everything is terrible and I hate you all forever" before it starts to get redundant. And other times, like the Vikings game last week, it's been more a matter of "oh yeah, I think I shall type a thing - oh look, an interesting squirrel!" or something else similar. So I suppose I'll touch on that for a second:
FUCK YOU IN THE FACE, BRETT FAVRE. SUCK MY DICK. SUCK MY DICK AND EAT MY BALLS. HAIL THE VICTORIOUS DEAD. I should have done a whole big post about that last week, since it was by far the best thing that happened in football all year for me, and there's only so much I can stand of typing a bunch of weird shit about zombies and cobras and TERRIBLE VIOLENCE or whatever. Still, I'm sure it was going to just degrade into one giant paragraph about how pissed I am that even after Devin Aromashodu spent the preseason getting a ton of playing time with the first-team offense against opposing teams' first-team defenses and was by far the team's best wide receiver, and even after Jay Cutler spent about fourteen weeks begging for him to get playing time, they still wouldn't let that dude see the field until week fifteen or whenever it was.
But there will be plenty of time to get negative when I look forward to an off season of wondering how the hell we're going to rebuild the smoldering wreckage of the last few years when we don't have a draft pick until the third round, after Cutler ate up the first rounder and we traded the number two for Gaines fuckin' ass Adams. Seriously. Gaines damn Adams. You know, in ten games with the Bears this year, that turd registered a grand total of four tackles. Four. That's it. No sacks, no fumble recoveries, no nothing. Just four freaking tackles. Jesus Harold Christ, I could do that, and I'm not even joking. Like if they sent me out there and just let me get crushed by the opposing team's offensive linemen for ten games, I'm sure I'd end up with at least five tackles just by having the other team's running backs fall on top of me or something. Getting four tackles in that span of time is worse than chance.
But yeah, I'm sure there will be plenty of time for things like that when I break this butthole of a year down sometime between now and April or whenever. As for today, the Bears finished out with a win over the Lions, but it's hard for me to tap dance with joy over that, because you know... It was the Lions. I mean, yeah, they had a good draft and all, but everyone they drafted is on injured reserve. This is a team that has had the post-2004 version of Daunte Culpepper playing quarterback for large parts of the year. This is a team that gave up two one-hundred yard games to Matt Forte in the year where he made us all pine for the return of Cedric Benson. There is nothing about beating the Detroit Lions that you can type without making heavy use of italics, because damn.
But anyway, yeah, 2009 is over now, and well, that sure fucking happened. I'm oddly at peace with it right now, but I'm sure I'll come back in a while with a bunch more about how awful Gaines Adams is, how awesome Devin Aromashodu is, and how utterly bummed I am with how the Orlando Pace thing worked out. Till then, onward and upward to greater things, I suppose. Or the 2010 season, whichever comes first.

One.

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Time To Put On A Happy Face!


It occurs to me that my last post might have been a tad too negative, even for me, and with that in mind, and in the wake of the sad departure of my dear Patriots loving colleague, I have decided to be more positive. Indeed, for this post, I am determined to only see the bright side, to grab hold of a rainbow and frolic with it in the dewy meadow under a bright morning sun. Forget the fire and the brimstone, the threats of suicide, the strange digressions and depraved imagery. For the rest of this post, I will do my best to be Grantland Rice on goofballs, Fred Rogers on laughing gas, Richard Simmons on Ben&Jerry's.

Okay, here we go. Oh, and from here on, there will be no foul language, no dastardly cussin', because cussin' is wrong, and as someone very wise once told me, cuss words are the sign of an uncreative mind, as is sarcasm, so let's get creative!!! And fun!!!

This week, the Chicago Bears jaunt into town, fresh off of an exciting and invigorating win over Brett Favre and the Magical Minnesota Vikings. Behind the scintillating play of that Four Star Field General, Jay Cutler, and the piston like running of that jackrabbit in cleats, Matt Forte, along with a suffocating and spectacular defensive eleven that gave up a mere 30 points to Wonderboy Favre and his Purple Powerhouse, the Ursine Warriors from the Windy City turned their season around and gave Bears fans everywhere the Christmas gift of a lifetime!

But fear not, fellow Lions fans, for while the growl of the grizzly is indeed an intimidating sound, it cannot compare with the full throated roar of the noble lion. No, indeed! And our Lions will have plenty to roar about when the Bears march into Ford Field, which has seen it's share of big games - Super Bowls, Final Fours, Chris Benoit's last Wrestlemania match before he retired to tend to his family - but none will be bigger than this titanic showdown between two of the NFL's most renowned and tradition laden franchises. Yes, folks, Ford Field will be the scene for a thunderous encounter between these two behemoths, and we can only hope that the roar on the field matches the cacophonous Lion's roar produced by the 968 fans in the stands.

But fear not, folks, because with two teams like this, the game couldn't possibly be anything other than SPECTACULAR! While the Bears have Cutler, that magician whose ball skills make him the Houdini of Halas' Heartthrobs, the Lions have Drew Stanton, a local boy with the heart of an actual lion, a fierce and proud modern day Spartan who would make ol' Leonidas weep and drop to his knees, genuflecting before the pure grace and raw courage and grit of such an elegant and perfect warrior. Any quarterback can throw a measly touchdown, but not every quarterback will be the first man on the scene to tackle the defender after he intercepts a perfectly thrown ball. And yet, there is our man, The King of Grit, The Lord of Pluck, Drew Stanton, valiantly hurling his body against the walls of his Leviathan of an opponent, putting his mortal body in harm's way so that his immortal spirit carries on in the mouths and hearts of generations of Lions fans. God Bless You, noble warrior!

But it's not all Drew Stanton for the Lions. No, sir. Not by a long shot! The Motor City Maulers also have a fleet footed deer of a receiver in Calvin Johnson, who is reputed to have once outrun a cheetah and outjumped Superman! In fact, one fella even remarked that Calvin Johnson was none other than renowned super hero, Dr. Manhattan! WOW!!! EXCLAMATION POINTS!

But even if somehow those noble and fierce Kings Of The Jungle are stopped by the Monsters of the Midway, the Lions Great Wall, led by beloved veteran Jeff Backus and fan favorite Dominic Raiola, should open holes for the spectacular crazy legged running of that wild hare, Maurice "Mercury" Morris. He will elegantly glide in and out of every hole faster than you can say Jack Robinson. And that's pretty darn quick! And, you didn't hear it from this fella here, but I wouldn't be surprised to see Kevin Smith make a miracle recovery and lope onto the field with the spirit of Barry Sanders in his heart and the support of those hundreds of fans in attendance spurring him on.

Indeed, the Lions Perfect Playmakers are on pace to exceed the wildest hopes and dreams of an entire fanbase! There will be times when it will seem like Bobby Layne, Barry Sanders, Herman Moore, Lomas Brown, and the cast of 300 are out there running and throwing and catching the ball. I know it will be tough, but try to remember that these are real Mortal Men! UNNECESSARY CAPITALIZATION!!!

Defensively, the Ford Field Fanatics will be treated to quite the show indeed, as the collection of playmakers general manager Martin Mayhew has assembled, building off of the fine, groundbreaking work of that trendsetter Matt Millen, will call to mind the ghosts of Lem Barney, Joe Schmidt and Chris Spielman. Their spirits will echo around the crowded confines of Ford Field, filling that wondrous hall with the power of a thousand angels! WOW!

But even if somehow the Mighty Men of the Midway keep pace with the Boys in Honolulu Blue, don't you worry your silly little heads, because the Lions have a secret weapon. Indeed, Jim Schwartz, that modern day Lombardi, that incarnation of Alexander the Great, that man who led the Jews out of bondage in Egypt, will call upon every bit of power inside of his vast soul, and then he'll reach down beyond that and call upon the magic of the greats that came before him, men like, uh, Wayne Fontes, and he'll dial up a Whiz Bang Golly Gee Willickers play that will KNOCK YOUR SOCKS OFF!!! Seriously, they will just fly right off!

It's a grand time to be a fan of the Detroit Lions. Yes, indeed! Their third win will be a magical moment, a moment that all Lions fans across the world, fans from Timbuktu to La Paz, can be proud of. It will be a moment that will live in the record books forever. Three Wins!!! Can you even imagine such a thing??? I'm getting chills just thinking about it!

But fear not, Lions fans, for even if the Lions somehow don't come away with that unprecedented third win, they will find themselves the envy of the league. That's right, THE WHOLE LEAGUE!!! And that's because the Lions will once again have the pick of the litter, the cream of the crop, the cliché of the cliché, in the upcoming NFL Draft, and that will mean they can draft Ndamukong Suh, that Man Mountain from the Plains of Nebraska, and if nothing else, that will give me a chance to work even harder on my spelling of Ndamukong. HOORAY!!!

Well, folks, this is the last game of the season, and it's been a blast! But don't you worry, because the Lions that live in our heart will go on even when the pigskin has stopped being snapped. I only wish that we could somehow extend the season another month. There's still so much more to do, so much magic to experience, so much talent to enjoy. I mean, after all, we will only get one more chance to enjoy the once in a lifetime show that is Drew Stanton, and after it's all over, we won't even get to see that First Ballot Hall of Famer, Daunte Culpepper anymore. And that's a shame. His talent and drive is even more remarkable when you consider that in the off-season, he is rumored to be a Boat Captain. I am not entirely clear on the details, but apparently it is a Love Boat of some sort, and isn't that fantastic? I will be sorry to see him go.

But let's just turn that frown upside down! That's the spirit! The 2009 season is drawing to a close, and with it, another magical Lions season is almost in the books. I have heard rumors that they sometimes play football all the way through January, but I don't believe them because if they did then surely the Lions would keep on playing every year. Silliness!!!

Well, alright, I have to go now, because the sedatives the orderlies shot me full of a while back are wearing off. I'll see you all in Narnia, where we'll frolic in the Gumball fields and pick Lollipops off of Candy Cane trees! Wheeeeeeeeeee!!!

PREDICTED FINAL SCORE: BEARS 24, LIONS 7

Monday, December 28, 2009

Falcons Still Fighting

The baddest kicker in the land

The Falcons were eliminated from the playoffs two weeks ago. The expectation for this team was that we probably wouldn't have as good of a record as last year but that we would be a better team. The team has been hurt by injuries and the defense has not been as good as we hoped it might be. One thing we can hang our hat on is that this team is gonna fight until their final breath (unlike the teams in the past led by Jim Mora Jr and Mike Vick said point blank that they quit. Look at the Seattle score this week and you can tell Mora's team has quit on him). The Falcons have the longest current streak in pro sports of not having back to back winning seasons. To put this in perspective the Clippers have the longest streak in the NBA and it's not as long as the Falcons. With their demolition of Buffalo on Sunday we have moved within 1 game of having back to back winning seasons and building on something for next year.

Falcon Victory Bullets

  • Welcome back Roddy White. 8 catches for 139 yards and 2 TDs. I'll take it.
  • Nice to see the rookies mixing it up on defense. CB Christopher Owens caught a long INT that was meant for TO (TO gave up on the play and left Owens to play it like a WR) and Lawrence Sidbury got a strip and took it in to the end zone for a TD.
  • Brent Grimes has really rebounded these last two games with 3 picks. He had a beautiful diving step in front of a wide receiver late in the game today.
  • Punter Michael Koenen and Kicker Matt Bryant both got injured today which left DE Kroy Biermann to kick off and Matt Ryan as the place holder on extra points (Bryant punted once and was able to kick extra points). Biermann nailed his first kick down to the two yard line. Back-up QB was the back-up punter, luckily he wasn't needed. On Sports Talk Radio they said that when Biermann was warming up he missed the net and shanked one into the stands.
  • The first offensive play of the game was a beauty. A 42 yard bomb from Matt Ryan to Roddy White for a TD.
  • Eric Weems continues to be solid in the kick return game on punts and kick offs

Sunday, December 27, 2009

This Might Be The Most Ridiculous Post I Have Ever Written

The story is old - I KNOW
But it goes on

That game felt like it was 148 hours long. Look, I love football - as evidenced by the billion words I have written about it over the past two years - but GOOD LORD, right now it just feels like I am strapped to a chair week after week with my eyelids held open by sadists while I watch death images scream across the scene. I am becoming dehumanized by the ruthless misery of it all and by the third quarter, I was ready to lope out onto the street, knuckles dragging, while I screamed at the moon and Baby Jesus wept.

The end of this season feels so pointless without Matthew Stafford, without Kevin Smith, without Brandon Pettigrew, without hope, and without reason. It is like watching a terrible foreign film where the characters all eat shit for two hours and then the main character hangs himself from his shower head while his girlfriend sits on the toilet, shaves her head and just stares at the camera and mouths the word why over and over and over again before the movie abruptly ends and a sad clown plays the violin before shooting himself. Horrible, just awful.

The sad desperation with which the Lions have played large chunks of the last two weeks just somehow makes it that much more intolerable. It is a futile effort, utterly without reward, and yet the defense is playing its ass off, hoping against hope that whatever turd is taking the snaps will somehow be able to put up more than six points. It is heartbreaking to watch, mean and cruel, and I wish I could say I was getting some satisfaction from it all, that there was some small solace in watching the team try so damn hard, but right now, it just feels like I am watching the tiniest, wimpiest ant standing up against the hordes of hell after the rest of the world has been overrun. It's a noble effort, but it still doesn't change the fact that the poor son of a bitch is just going to get squashed and that no one will ever remember him for his brave and foolish stand.

This is what this Season of Hope has come to, wild ranting and strange morose gibberish, depressed wails and tired pain. We have wandered so long - so damn long - in the wilderness of despair, and yet here we are, stranded there once again, while the vultures circle over head, and all we can do is keep staggering along, hoping that the end will come swiftly and without pain. But it never does. Instead, we just keep trudging along, beaten and wrecked, while we wait for the world to end.

JESUS. This has gotten out of hand, and I apologize. It's just so hard to watch these games, these terrible games, knowing that no matter how hard my dudes fight, in the end it won't be nearly enough because they have been mortally wounded. They are outgunned even on the best of days. Now, they just stagger into every gun fight naked, with only their broken fists and their bloody feet to kick and punch with while the other dude hauls out a cannon.

Our guns are gone, left in the wreckage of terrible battles that have been mostly lost. We can reload but we have to reach the end of this terrible road first. Unfortunately, there are dudes waiting with spiked paddles lining the road the rest of the way, waiting to savagely beat us as we crawl home.

This is a depressed post, ugly and disturbing, wild and stupid, filled with a billion different confused analogies and dumbfounding imagery, but this is what these times, strange and terrible as they are, drive even the best of us to. I haven't even discussed Drew Stanton, and you know what? I'm not going to. At least not today. In a couple of days, maybe, sure, why not? But for right now, I will not savage Ol' Plucky. His people have suffered enough, and there are days when the only grace you can give yourself is to be merciful to the wicked and the foolish, for they have suffered mightily too, and perhaps in the ugly void between the cacophony of rage that has wrecked so many of us and the bitter silence of terrible death, we can find common ground in our pain. There is no rest for the weary in these terrible days, no solace for the tortured. We are all stupid and dazed, and sometimes we even devolve into delusional grandeur and stupid hyperbole, as evidenced by the entirety of this whole Godforsaken post, and I don't even have a point anymore. And maybe this is appropriate, because neither does my football world.

But hey, Jason Hanson made both of his field goal attempts. That's something, right?

This post has been sponsored by the National Ennui Council and has been ghostwritten appropriately enough by the ghost of Ian Curtis after listening to 100 straight hours of Morrissey.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Just Two More Whippings to Go



It's Christmas this week, which is why you're getting the game preview today instead of later in the week. It's also why I will probably get a bunch of dumb shit wrong because injury reports, who's going to play and not play, etc. are always sketchy in the middle of the week. But fuck all that, I'm not about to spend Christmas writing up a game preview for a 2-12 team. I may be insane, but I'm not that insane.

Anyway, I suppose I could do a Christmas themed post, but you and I are both above all of that nonsense and it would inevitably just lead to disturbing gibberish involving Santa Claus running naked through the streets anyway, so we will not go down that route. Unless, of course, I get bored and just head off in that direction anyway, which as you should all know by now is a distinct and terrifying possibility.

But enough nonsense, we have a game this weekend. And fortunately for us, Detroit's opponent, the 49ers, are not the same 49ers team that inspired mass hatred and outright disgust for oh so many years. Unfortunately, as you can all see thanks to my man, P.B., in his post right below this one, the 49ers are also a team on the way up. Sure, sure, there are some hopeful idiots - including me if I am being honest - who believe that the Lions are a team on the rise too, but the 49ers rise to mediocrity is a far cry from the Lions own immortal rise from Worst Team Ever to Merely A Horrible Team.

Indeed. It seems as if the 49ers are finally knocking on the door of respectability once again, although perhaps a better way of saying that is Mike Singletary is screaming at the door and whipping it with his pants, which he has ripped off in a fit of rage. Singletary's legendary intensity seems to be the defining story surrounding the 49ers these days, which is unfortunate because it obscures the fact the he is kind of shitty as an actual coach, and it also takes away from the fact that the 49ers have a solid core of young, talented players who are carrying this team on their backs.

For the first time in a while, the 49ers have some real, live playmakers on both sides of the ball. On offense, Frank Gore is only a breath away from yet another 1,000 yard campaign, and Vernon Davis has finally emerged as a go to target at tight end. Meanwhile, Michael Crabtree finally apparently realized that the last high profile wide receiver to sit out a whole season in between college and the NFL was named Mike Williams and he got his ass to practice, giving the 49ers a legitimate weapon at wide receiver. Unfortunately for the Niners, they are still looking for a legit NFL quarterback. Sure, sure, Alex Smith is having his best season as a pro, but that's like saying that Hitler had a better 1944 than 1945 or that Rod Marinelli had a better year in 2007 than in 2008. Yeah, it's technically true, but in the end, there were still many tears and there was much bloodshed. Millions of people died and when it was over, all that was left was for the world to remake itself under a banner of . . . okay, perhaps I have carried this thing a little far. The point is, is that although Smith hasn't been an outright disaster since taking over as starter part way through the season, he's still not that good of a quarterback, having amassed a ho hum passer rating of 78.5.

Defensively, the 49ers have an absolute stud in Patrick Willis. He might be the best linebacker in the NFL. Like the offense, there is still a ways to go before it is a championship caliber unit, but there are some pieces in place, led by Willis, and if they get continued improvement from Ahmad Brooks along with an improved pass rush, there could really be something worth getting excited about here.

Yes, it's not a bad time to be a 49ers fan, and thankfully . . . oh, wait, what? Oh, that's right. Shit. Apparently, I am a Lions fan and that's what I'm supposed to be writing about. Damn it all. I was getting all excited about the future of the 49ers too. And why not? I mean, it's certainly better than having to focus on the Lions thirteenth loss of the season on Sunday.

You want analysis? Okay, fine. The Lions defense will make a couple of big plays, but for the most part, they won't be good enough to stop the 49ers attack. Meanwhile, the Lions offense will score in between 0 and 7 points as Drew Stanton tries in a futile effort to prove that he can be a viable NFL quarterback.

Wait a minute. Drew Stanton? Indeed, voice inside my head. Ol' Plucky himself will apparently start for the Lions at quarterback this weekend, and while that is certainly better than the alternative who goes by the name of Daunte Culpepper, so is being hung by your balls from the ceiling like some form of disturbing mistletoe. Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle's monkey, that was a Christmas reference!

Anyway, that bit of grotesque dipshittery aside, it will be kinda painful to watch as Drew Stanton stumbles his way around the field, throwing terrible interceptions and leading the team to an inevitable loss, because it will shatter the dreams of his die hard fanbase, those who think the poor boy only needs to be given a chance in order to succeed. I know, I know, this is essentially every Lions fan other than me, and as usual when I start writing about Ol' Plucky, I can just see my boy Ty shaking his head in mild disapproval, but what can I say? I just don't want to see you get your hearts broken. I am a humanitarian and a gentleman after all.

This season is now in its final death throes, and the Lions are crawling on broken glass to a finish where they will be mercifully beheaded and then fed to the dogs. That is not a happy story, nor is it a story that really lends itself to much intrigue or excitement. Sure, it might be interesting in a macabre way to see how many little cuts they get from the broken glass, and it might be perversely funny to watch them scramble around at the end trying to avoid that terrible axe, but in the end, that axe is going to fall, that head is going to come off and then we can watch the body get torn to shreds by wild dogs and hope that next year's journey has a happier end.

By the way, I think that's like the third or fourth post in a row in which I have gone on about someone getting beheaded. I swear, this is not intentional, and I'm not sure what the deal is. I think it might have something to do with me watching the second season of The Tudors on DVD, which featured practically half the cast getting their heads cut off. The best was when Anne Boleyn's jackass brother got it and he was trying to talk to the crowd like Sir Thomas More did. For Sir Thomas, the people were all quiet and respectful but they just screamed obscenities at poor ol' George Boleyn. Although nothing was as heart rending as King Henry VIII's reaction when his old mentor, Sir Thomas, got the axe. Heartbreaking shit, no doubt, heavy and pregnant with terrible emotion. You could feel Henry's . . . sigh. Okay, fine, the Lions.

The Lions will likely lose to the 49ers on Sunday. Without Matthew Stafford in there, it feels like the season is almost pointless, like each game is just another dumb exhibition, a showcase for the coaches to evaluate who gets to stick around next year and who will get stuffed in a trunk with Daunte Culpepper and dumped out of a plane into the Indian Ocean when the season is done. That is what will happen, right?

Oh well, these are the days that no fan wants to have to have to experience, but we are Lions fans, and this is the way it must be. Resignation is the only emotion any of us have left that won't leave us withered and beaten, reaching for a cocktail of Xanax and Motor Oil. There is football still to be played, but really it is just an echo of reality, the foul whispers of ghosts whose earthly bodies have already been decapitated and left at the gates of hell. Okay, I am getting ridiculous and melodramatic now, and so I'll just leave you with the immortal words of the sages Bill S. Preston Esq., and Ted Theodore Logan: Be excellent to each other. And in the thunderous words of Abraham Lincoln: Party on, dudes.

PREDICTED FINAL SCORE BECAUSE I DON'T FEEL LIKE DOING FIVE PREDICTIONS THIS WEEK BECAUSE IT WOULD ONLY RESULT IN ABSURD RAMBLINGS ABOUT MONKEES AND PROBABLY CHEETAHS AND GIRAFFES SINCE THE IDEA OF FOCUSING SOLELY ON THE LIONS AND THE NON-ACHIEVEMENTS OF THEIR PLAYERS IS ENTIRELY TOO FRIGHTENING: 49ERS 24, LIONS 16

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The 49ers Are Eliminated From The Playoffs, And I Feel Fine

When Niner fans commiserate to watch the game, it's been the same set of jerseys people rocked for the last five years. You'd have the throwback players from the Walsh/Seifert era, you'd have the occasional Garcia/T.O. (2002) uniforms and then it's not until Frank Gore stepped up that fans felt they had a player that made them pay a shit-ton of money to wear his jersey. I have seen as many Alex Smith jerseys int he last five years as Montana jerseys. Alex Smith has a career passer rating of 68.6.

For four years, we had people we latched onto (Derek Smith, Fred Beasley) but it was like holding hands with an insufferable woman because you couldn't do anything else. I only bring this up because this video (from Matt Maiocco's twitter acct) of Niner fans getting pelted by snowballs for what seems like forever. :





I have turned around on Crabtree and love Willis. If this happened 3 years ago, you'd see an Alex Smith and Kevan Barlow jersey getting pelted and it would've been sickening. But now, I like this team a lot. Getting hit in the head with hard snow repeatedly isn't embarrasing even though we lost. We don't suck anymore. We're an average team in a shitty division but we were a Colts trick play and a Vikings miracle from being 8-6. So when I see those guys taking their hits, it was nice of them no to run away but take it and say fuck it we don't suck anymore we're average again (although honestly, for their safety they probably should've. The chances of getting a concussion from all sides would favor the odds).

Some spoiled-brat Niner fan have somehow forgotten the pain and torture of Terry Donahue and Dennis Erickson shaking hands with Rashaun Woods at the NFL Draft. We weren't going to beat the Eagles. Going 4-1 gave us unreal expectations and all of a sudden people thought there was going to be a return to the glory years right away (present company included) but we just got promoted from ineptitude to mediocre and that's a HUGE step. And I'd love to take that next leap with Alex Smith. If Smith went to the Packers and Rodgers with the Niners I am not certain Smith would be as good as Rodgers but certain as fuck that Rodgers would be a bust like Smith. But honestly Smith is a bust (so far) whose best statistical games were when the defenses were playing soft with three-score leads. But seriously, let's see what this guy can do in a system that lasts more than one year.

NEEDS for next year:
O-line: David Baas has a very big head, like he looks like a baby with a tiny helmet on his head, but I've seen his stupid ass baby head look at a ref for a false start or a holding call too many times, we need a LG. Adam Snyder at RT is backup material at best, his versatility at OG and OT is basically his biggest asset because dude is average at both.

KR/PR: This was the most inept group of special teams returners I have ever seen and is probably responsible for a handful of losses this year. Arnaz Battle and Brandon Jones have COMBINED for a 3.6 yards-per-punt-return average. Battle doesn't know how to catch a punt and Jones watches balls drop from the 8 yard-line and roll to the 3 every fuckng time I see him there.

Proper gameplanning/coaching/scheming: The defense is fine, although it plays soft for the fourth quarter. Sometimes because the 9er offense keeps them on the field for so long (led the NFL in 3-and-outs) or Def. Coordinator Greg Manusky stops being aggressive.

The offense is schizophrenic but the pieces are there to lead a (I wish) K-Gun for the 21st Century. The offense forced the issue with being a ball-control team but the o-line sucks, and then we went hyper-aggressive with the shotgun which led to mixed results (being able to pass on shitty teams, tons of INTs and 3rd-and-longs against good teams). We went from vanilla to too-cutesy and couldn't find a right balance.

The coaching is shit. Sorry, too many wasted timeouts, blown challenges, predictable playcalling. I'm hoping for two things: 1. Offensive coordinator Jimmy Raye knows the pieces he has and works within their limits and 2. QB Coach Mike Johnson is being groomed for the OC position.

Pass rush/defensive backs: The average pass-rush and inconsistent secondary have killed an elite run-stopping team like the Niners. Ahmad Brooks has shown flashes and hopefully a healthy full year with him next year might be what we need. Cornerback play is only good against big, Fitzgerald/Boldin-like recievers but once they hook up against fast, agile recievers they're not that good.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Misery?

It's hard to know how to feel after a game like the one against the Cardinals on Sunday. On the one hand, it sucked, obviously, to lose, and the first half felt like the Bataan Death March combined with every one of the Saw movies and an episode of The Benny Hill Show. It was a miserable experience that warped and deformed all who were forced to witness it, and in the end all any of us could do was laugh and run around, chasing scantily clad women in fast motion and rubbing the head of old bald British dudes. Okay, so maybe it wasn't exactly like The Benny Hill Show, but what the hell, there were tears and there was laughter so close enough.

On the other hand, the second half was exactly the sort of thing that all of us needed to see. After an extended excursion into the terrible jungles of failure, the second half finally saw us emerge, led by none other than the Lizard King, Cinnabon, Lord of the Apes, Ernie Sims along with his cohort, the Prince of (insert goofy nickname here), Louis Delmas. It was awesome to see those dudes, along with the rest of the defense, decide fuck this horseshit, and then proceed to wreck the Cardinals throughout the third quarter. The fans loved it - oh man, did they love it - and the team looked completely different. They looked confident and focused and desperate to win. Perhaps Gunther Cunningham powerbombed a midget at halftime or Jim Schwartz threatened to kill a box full of puppies, I don't know, but whatever they did worked, because those dudes looked liked dudes that I could be proud of.

Unfortunately, you still need a quarterback to win, and, well . . . yeah, about that. Daunte Culpepper has finally been mercifully executed - let's hope so anyway - and it wasn't like one of those executions where everyone kinda feels bad for the dude up there getting his head chopped off and all the villagers are praying for his soul and screaming mercy or anything like that. No, this was one of those executions where the villagers were all spitting on the poor fool, screaming obscenities and then cheering wildly when his head was lopped off and then tossed into the crowd to be used as a soccer ball by the village children.

Everyone was happy to see Daunte benched. At least, I hope so. I mean, there could probably still be some idiot hold out screaming that we need to give Culpepper a better chance, to remember 2004 like it was the fucking Alamo and other assorted dumb bullshit. It's possible someone like this exists in a world where there are a growing number of people who think we should trade Calvin Johnson so we can move up one spot in the draft. But that is another maddening and ridiculous topic for another day. All I will say for now is that people are humongous idiots, and so I'm sure there were a few people bemoaning the fate of the poor misunderstood Sex Boat Captain.

But the sad reality is that Culpepper's replacement, Ol' Plucky, Drew Stanton, well, uh . . . well, he sucks. His arm is astoundingly weak - whenever he has to throw to a receiver on an out route, it is almost painful to watch. Every one looks like a potential pick six. That would be tolerable - mildly anyway - if he proved to be a good game manager, but he isn't that either. Instead, he thinks he's a play maker, and that results in retarded throws that are intercepted and scrambles that go nowhere and pain, terrible pain. Look, I know that most Lions fans love Ol' Plucky, and while he may be a fantastic grit merchant, he's not much of a quarterback. The comeback in the second half was all defense and field position, along with one gigantic run by Maurice Morris, who dare I say it, was kinda sorta awesome.

Indeed, Morris was the offense for the Lions on Sunday, and for a large chunk of the second half I just kept thinking we could win this game if we only had a quarterback. Sadly, we did not. The good news is that we do have one, ready and waiting. The bad news is that he is currently living in a plastic bubble, guarded by ninja monks with bazookas and pit bulls with venomous snakes for teeth. He's sealed up and we likely won't be seeing him until next season, which means that we have to sit here and watch either the Sex Boat Captain or Ol' Plucky try to win games for us, which, uh . . . I hope you were watching on Sunday. Thankfully, none of that should matter next year. It just means we have to get through the next two games without engaging in mass suicide.

I am so happy with the way that the team performed in the second half. I don't get a chance to say that often, but when I do get that chance, I will say it. I am not all mass hangings and drain cleaner chugging, after all. There are those that may be too dull to realize this, and may get caught up in the ridiculous imagery of it all but what the hell, the world is full of idiots and all the rest of us can do is stand above them with torches and keep them at bay for as long as we can. That is, after all, the heart of what being a Lions fan is all about - just trying to stand above the fray and keeping the failure of it all from overwhelming you. Sometimes it is ugly and sometimes it is mean and sometimes it is utterly ridiculous, but it's also real.

I love the Lions. I love watching them, I love reading about them, and I love writing about them. That may be completely mystifying to some people, but who gives a shit? You are missing out on the point of it all, which is that when my team does win, it means something to me in a way that you can't quite understand, because while you may show up for a game and cheer when the team is winning, and then disappear for the rest of the week, I show up when the team is losing, and I don't stop caring when the clock hits zero. I show up when all you can do is hope and pray that it might get better one day. I have been to hell. It sucks. But I also know that the only way I will ever appreciate heaven is to know what hell feels like. Perhaps that is too faux-philosophical, and really, it's kind of clichéd, and I generally hate clichés, and I am really, really considering deleting all of this gibberish as it feels entirely too corny and ridiculous, but what the hell, let's dive all the way to the bottom of this rancid pool. There are some people who will never understand why we follow the Lions, why we care the way we do, but you know what? Fuck them. We are champions in our hearts and the world will know us before it is all said and done. That is good enough for me.

Anyway, this post has kind of had a more stream of consciousness feel to it than I expected - or than I normally like. It kinda feels all over the place, but I suppose that is appropriate in this strange, schizophrenic season, and it feels especially appropriate in the wake of what was an incredibly schizophrenic game. It was a game filled with the highest highs and the lowest lows. It was a beautiful game and it was also incredibly ugly. It made me wonder why I was a fan of any of this bullshit and it reminded me of why I somehow love it all. It was the failure of the past and it was the promise of the future. It was the Detroit Lions, and in the end it was 2-12, but for now anyway, it doesn't feel quite so terrible.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Misery Does NOT Enjoy Company



I decided that it's no longer worth it to post about the New England Patriots on this site. I post about the Pats after several long posts about how dreadful the Bears, Lions and Redskins are and it's just draining and depressing. When the Patriots suffered back to back losses and it was evident the team was falling apart the LAST thing I wanted to do was rant about how terrible the Patriots were on Armchair Linebacker.

If you add in the fact that the lone Chinballs post is in the top 7 when I carried this site on my back for quite a stretch (ask Raven, check the archives) following the opening. I was one of the original contributors and I put in the most work in the beginning. Following my dismissal (without anyone having the balls to tell me beforehand, mind you) I simply did my own thing and tended to my other sites. That is until Raven asked me back at the beginning of this year.

I get it. You don't wanna hear a Patriots fan bitch about his team when they're winning. Well, who wants to read about nothing but a bunch of losing teams ALL THE TIME? Why are there multiple writers for the Lions and Bears? Why are there no contributors for the Colts, Chargers, Saints, Steelers, Giants, Cowboys, Eagles, etc? Variety is the spice of life. This site is just spinning it's wheels currently.

I'm going to do what I should've been allowed to do myself last year. Go home and jerk off while not drinking beer and pretending to be black. Have fun, fellas.

One.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

I May Have Gone Insane While Writing This


The season is almost over, and once again we find ourselves trying to climb out from underneath the apocalyptic wreckage of yet another miserable season. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Sure, we knew the record would be bad, but we also thought that by the time the year wrapped up we would be filled with hope for next season. Instead, everyone is hurt or dead and we are all lying naked at the bottom of a vast chasm, weeping and howling at a moon that we can't even see because it's covered by smoke rising up from our burned out dreams. It's a terrible thing, just awful, and it is stunning how bad it has become.

It sucks to have to put our dreams of, well, adequacy on hold for yet another season because the failure demon has risen like a fucking Colossus out of the earth and started dragging player after player back down to hell with him. Our star quarterback, the future of the franchise, has had his knee annihilated and his shoulder ripped out and eaten by the failure demon so far this season, and it has reached a point where most fans are crying out for mercy for poor Matthew like they were spectators at a medieval execution. QUIT TORTURING THE POOR MAN AND JUST CUT HIS HEAD OFF ALREADY.

But The Passion of the Stafford is not the only horrific show in town. No, instead, we've had to watch as our superstar wide receiver and only playmaker has had seemingly every bone and joint and muscle in his body torn apart like that dude in Hellraiser. Poor St. Calvin might actually be up for sainthood when this is all over. After all, the very first saints were martyrs.

But at least we have a strong running game to take the pressure off of . . . oh shit, really? Indeed. Kevin Smith's knee saw what was going on and sat in the garage with the car running rather than put up with the freak show bullshit that is the Detroit Lions. So, yeah, he's gone, maybe for good.

And then there's Brandon Pettigrew, who's on his way into surgery any minute now to repair his torn ACL and there's Louis Delmas who has been banged up this season and . . . AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sorry. I, uh, well, it's been a long season. Anyway, everyone is hurt, the team sucks right now, and the biggest news all week long has been the coaches threatening to execute everyone on the team for gross incompetence. This wasn't supposed to be the way this season unfolded. And yet, here we are. Again.

Hang on a minute. I'm going to go listen to Morrissey for a while and then jump off of the pier into Lake Michigan. By the way, it's December, so I'll just thrash about for a while before I slowly freeze to death and then drown.

I mean, GOOD LORD. Has it really come to this? Before the season started, I was excited to see the development of our young skill players. They could be our Aikman, Irvin and Smith. Hyperbolic? Certainly, but that was the kind of excitement I allowed myself to believe deep down. Instead, I got to watch our quarterback struggle through the season like he was the first dude off the boat on D-Day, our playmaking wide receiver get drawn and quartered for his faith, and our running back's knee explode and leave him laying like a piece of road kill. I am tempted to just type the word WHY over and over and over again and then rummage for my finest hanging neck tie. By the way, I think that's at least the third different suicide reference I have made in this post. Lions Fever! Catch it!

The 48-3 loss to the Ravens was the Lions worst loss since 1991. Yes, given everything that has happened in the past decade of terrible pain, and given everything that went on last year, last week's game was still the worst game the Lions have had in 18 years.

I'm just going to let that stand on its own for a while. I want you to stop and just think about that for a minute. Just think about what that means.

Okay, if you are still here after thinking that one over, congratulations, you have an iron will and/or are a masochist. Everyone else is probably running naked and afraid through the streets right about now, tearing at their flesh and scaring the holy hell out of old people and small animals.

Oh Lord, why? How has it come to this? I feel like I am just going around in circles now, trapped on an endless circuit of misery that always begins and ends the same way, with me asking that awful question. Maybe there is no answer, and maybe this is just the way of things and maybe our perpetual misery somehow balances the universe and oh my God, the gibberish I am spewing is just absurd now. I have been broken, beaten and whipped by this horror show. I suppose the only thing I can do is try to force myself to keep looking forward.

Alright, that's what I'll do. Okay. Here we go. So, what's next? The Cardinals are coming to town? You mean the team that went to the Super Bowl last season, has a Hall of Fame Quarterback and three different receivers who went over 1,000 yards last season? Insert random suicide reference number 11,368 here.

I mean, come on. Things are already bad enough. Now I have to watch my team's league worst pass defense get absolutely shredded by the dude who is Mike Martz's own personal Viagra. This is horrible. I don't care what happened on Monday against the 49ers, Kurt Warner is going to beat our defense down like they are a gang of Satanists trying to steal his family Bible. Good God. This is going to be brutal and ugly and mean, and . . . I need a moment here.

Okay, I'm back. I will try to rationally get through the rest of this, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. I suppose I could look at the bright side, which is that Larry Fitzgerald is questionable and might not play following his knee injury against the 49ers, but one Cardinals receiver out, even one as good as Fitzgerald, doesn't exactly tip the scales in our favor, especially when we have added 10 different defensive backs to the roster since September. At this point, the Lions are basically pulling in dudes off the street. It is now like that stupid show Pros vs. Joes or whatever the hell that thing on Spike TV was called that featured pro athletes whipping the shit out of delusional fans.

Thankfully the Cardinals are a one dimensional team, and . . . oh wait, you mean they're not anymore? Well, that's just super. Indeed. The Cardinals have become a team capable of mixing in a power run game with their prolific aerial attack, meaning that even if by some gigantic miracle the Lions stop the Cardinals passing game(maybe St. Calvin will be able to teleport around the field and grow wings and play all four defensive backs, thus fulfilling the miracle requirement for sainthood. If this happens, we need to petition the Vatican.), the Cardinals should still be able to run the ball down the middle of the field, especially on a team like the Lions who appear to have had their spirits broken and then had those broken spirits stolen by the failure demon and dragged down to hell.

So, yeah, the Lions defense is going to be massacred here. They should just dress up Larry Foote like General Custer at this point and let nature take its course. But things aren't all bad. I mean, the Lions have a bona fide Pro Bowl quarterback in Daunte Culpepper, who . . . (is there a way to type the sound of a life support machine flat lining?)

Yes, Daunte the Terrible is back at quarterback with Matthew Stafford being kept in an oxygen tank or plastic bubble or confined to a monastery where he is protected by martial artist monks for the rest of the season. And, well, Daunte is a shitty quarterback. End of analysis.

Meanwhile, St. Calvin is still banged up and although he might make a go of it against the Cardinals, at this point they might as well just strap a cross to his back while he runs down the field. I guess they could just feed the ball to Maurice Morris all day, but really, what's the point? He'll just be beaten and then eaten by Darnell Dockett anyway. I guess Aaron Brown could make something happen, but now I am just randomly throwing shit out there. The sad reality is that the offense will be lucky to even crack double digits. Seeing as how they are going against an offense that could probably score 50 if they felt like it, this is kind of a problem.

Look, the rest of the season is just going to feel like one extended execution. It will be horrible and utterly without merit or reason. It will just be play after play of watching our guys strung up and screaming for mercy while their opponents whip them with chains made out of poisonous snakes and hatred. It will be a terrible thing to watch and we will all be forever scarred as fans by the experience.

FIVE PREDICTIONS


1. Culpepper throws for 26 yards on 5 of 38 passing. He fumbles on the first play of the game, shits his pants and then somehow manages to throw an interception even while sitting on the bench. Drew Stanton is still deemed by the coaches to be worse than this.

2. Calvin Johnson tries to play, but ends up getting torn in half by Adrian Wilson on a crossing route. The top half of his body crawls to the sidelines while his legs kick about uselessly on the field. No one will want to admit it, but the sight will be kind of funny.

3. Maurice Morris will have his legs eaten before the game by an escaped lion from the zoo. He will be depressed until he is reminded that this means that he gets to sit out the rest of the season. He and the lion will have a touching reunion on Oprah where Morris will publicly forgive the lion. The lion will respond by eating the audience.

4. Kurt Warner will throw for 1,010 yards and 18 touchdowns. After the game he will lead a public exorcism of Ford Field but will flee when he realizes that he is actually in hell.

5. Sadness.

PREDICTED FINAL SCORE: CARDINALS 117, LIONS 3

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Depressing Thoughts



CONGRATULATIONS, YOU FINALLY DID IT


I mentioned this in the plaintive cry for help that was my post following the game, but it bears repeating: I turned off the TV in the third quarter and didn't come back to the game. I do not regret this decision, and I am actually thankful that my intuition apparently conspired with my ass to save my sanity and quite possibly my life. I am eternally grateful.

I have a feeling that I wasn't alone in this decision. Hell, my man Ty even fell asleep. We are fans who have been through the worst of the worst. We survived 0-16. I watched every one of those infernal games. I'm not entirely sure why this particular game was the straw that murdered that poor camel, but it happened. It finally happened. In a season that was supposed to be all about hope and moving forward, we were more turned off than we were in the season of unnumbered tears. That can't be said enough. Somehow, watching my team lose every game a year ago was more compelling, more worth watching than whatever the hell that abomination was against Baltimore. Well done.

AND THE REASON?

Hello, Daunte Culpepper. Does anyone think this turd is still capable of being an effective starting quarterback in the NFL? I mean, come on dude. Now is the time to step away and go back to playing Mr. Mom full time. No one wants to see you fuck around the football field anymore. Take your tiny hands and what's left of your dignity and spend the rest of the season desperately trying to woo Doc Brown so he'll let you borrow the DeLorean so you can go back to 2004 and warn your past self to protect your knee and stay off the sex boat. Also, perhaps you can go further back than that and convince the 8 year old version of yourself that the football is possessed by the devil. Really drive the point home. Wear horns and a devil's tail. I don't know. Just find a way to never wear a Lions uniform and we'll be good.

It is a testament to how awful Culpepper has become that his mere presence can make a game feel so utterly worthless. He is not only a lousy quarterback at this point in his career, but a symbol of the failure of the past, a living, breathing reminder of everything that we as Lions fans have had to go through to get to this point. He is the past decade of miserable pain and failure wrapped up in one oversized ball of suck. No one wants to even watch the games when he's playing. It's too painful, too terrible, like being dropped back onto a battlefield where you saw all your closest friends get their intestines ripped out and their hearts eaten. Even though the battle is over, you can still hear the screams, hear the mad cacophony of war all around you and feel the panic, the terrible agony of it all, and it makes you shiver and shake like a junky before you vomit and pass out. The past is too terrible to relive and every time Daunte Culpepper trots onto the field, there we are. Again. And it never gets better, never gets easier. Instead, somehow, it gets harder. We have eaten a lot of shit as Lions fans, and we are tough, almost impossibly so, but there is only so much that even we can take. And I think that, incredibly, Daunte Culpepper's 260 pound symbol of doom is the thing that tips the scales and makes it all just too intolerable, too terrible to even watch.

It is so bad that at this point, I would sigh a happy, relieved sigh and smile dreamily if Ol' Plucky, Drew Stanton, came trotting onto the field, and if you have been reading my little corner of this blog for a while now, well, first of all I apologize, both to you and your therapist, and second of all, you are well aware of the irrational disdain I have for Ol' Plucky. So, the simple fact that I would eagerly welcome Stanton with open arms rather than watch Culpepper shit the bed again says a lot here.

SAD. SO SAD.

Last week, I posted what felt like a eulogy for Jason Hanson, and in it I said that it sucked that we couldn't feel confident any more when he jogged onto the field to put one through the uprights. But deep down, I hoped that I was wrong, and that Hanson would continue to be a kicking Terminator for years to come.

But when he came onto the field early in the game against the Ravens to kick a field goal, I knew that I was right. And I knew it because for the first time in his career, I didn't feel confident that he would make the kick. It wasn't that tough of a kick either. That's how fast these things happen. Last season was maybe Hanson's best of his career. And now, this season, that confidence that I always felt when he would come into the game is already gone, swept away in the tide of shit water that has carried away every other thing that I have ever had to be proud of as a Lions fan. Sure enough, Hanson missed the kick, and when he did, I was dismayed to realize that I wasn't surprised at all. For the first time in Hanson's career, I wasn't surprised that he missed a field goal, and that was somehow even worse than the lack of confidence I felt earlier.

This sucks. A part of me - a large part - wanted Hanson to finish things on his own terms, at the top of his game. I wanted him to be able to be the one Lion who went out right, the one Lion who made it all the way through without being dragged down into the whirlpool of ugly death that has grabbed everyone else who has put on that uniform. He was our one chance at a happy ending, and now that feels like it is all gone.

You are probably laughing right now because it is only the kicker, and who gives a shit about the kicker? But the thing is, is that this is the sort of thing that matters to Lions fans, the sort of thing that we must grab a hold of so we don't get carried off into the abyss of failure and misery that takes everything else in the Lions universe. It is a small thing, stupid and kind of pointless, but it's all we have, and it sucks to not be able to hold onto it any more.

AND NOW FOR THE PUNCHLINE

It's not enough that we had to lose. Noooooooo. That would be far too easy. Instead, it was apparently important that we regain our faith in Kevin Smith only to see him be destroyed. Before the season began, I made some ridiculous predictions about Smith. I expected him to vault into the upper echelon of NFL running backs. I did this because I am a hopeful idiot. Of course, Smith proceeded to struggle throughout the entire season, enough that I reached the point where in my mind - and at times on this blog - I was beginning to write him off as the answer to our chronic failure at running back. But then a funny thing happened. Smith ran the ball well against the Bengals and their tough run defense and then he looked pretty damn awesome in the first half against Baltimore and their top ranked run defense. Suddenly, hope was back. We could believe again.

Yeah, about that.

I didn't see the play. Like I said, I was off racing giraffes and huffing paint thinner or whatever the hell I gibbered on about in my last post, but apparently Smith's knee decided it'd had enough and committed suicide right there on the field. Hey, why not? I mean, I suppose it's funny to let a poor fool scramble back to his knees before kicking him down again. If you're a sociopath, anyway.

And just like that, our hope that Kevin Smith was indeed the answer was wiped away. Goodbye hope, goodbye ACL, it was fun. Sort of. Okay, not really, but what the hell, a Smith in the hand is better than two in the bush or . . . I don't even think that makes sense and I apologize. Even though Smith had struggled for large chunks of this season, he was still an important piece of the puzzle, and he provided an answer - even if it was a feeble one - to one of a billion questions. There is so much to do here, so much that needs to be fixed, that we really can't afford to have to start adding things to the list. Unfortunately, it looks like that's where we are right now when it comes to the running game. Smith is gone for the year and there's a good chance he's fucked for next season too. A torn ACL is a killer for a running back, especially for a running back without great top end speed. A torn ACL screws your lateral agility, the ability to bounce and cut and all those good things that are crucial to every running back, and an absolute necessity for those running backs who, like Smith, don't have that top gear. I wouldn't be surprised if we just saw the end of Kevin Smith as a feature back in the NFL.

Okay, Jesus, this post has been depressing as hell. Even for the Lions. I mean, I don't even know what else to say, and so I won't say anything at all. I will just wish you all a good day, Vaya con dios and all that jazz, and I will go sit in the corner for a while and weep silently.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Good Lord



A quick confession: I turned the game off with the Ravens up 27-3 in the third quarter. I don't apologize for this. After all, I am an important man and I have better things to do with my time, like huffing paint thinner and racing giraffes in the park. And before any of you get all up in arms, no I don't ride the giraffes or make them compete cruelly against one another. Instead, I do exactly what I said. I race them, one on one, me against them, as a test of my primal athleticism. Afterwards, we discuss poetry and ancient philosophy. I don't always win, but really, it's the attempt that's important, just getting out there and doing it, you know, and . . .

This is what the Lions have driven me to. I have been responsible for some baffling gibberish over the past couple of seasons, but that is a whole new level of stupid and strange, and, well, I would rather write about racing giraffes than the Lions. It has come to that. It's far more interesting and fulfilling at this point. But, since turning away from the stark reality of the rancid terrible truth that is the apocalyptic game that just went down between the Lions and the Ravens does no one any good, I will brave this shit storm and try, somehow, to talk about what just went down.

Okay. Hi. We've been through a lot over the past couple of seasons. Hell, we've been through a lot over the past decade. But, in the course of writing inane gibberish for this blog, this was the first time that I said fuck it and turned off a game so early. Sure, there have been times when I wandered away late in the fourth quarter, with the game out of reach, but it was always still on in the background, and even if I was just doing a crossword puzzle(why yes, I am a little old lady) or peeling carrots(not a masturbation euphemism . . . or is it?) or doodling obscene sketches involving Batman and Alfred(everyone expects it to be Robin, but the real lusty heart of the Batman saga is between Batman and Alfred. And, no, I don't give a fuck about comics, this was just a joke so please nerds, do not get all fidgety about this.) or drinking turpentine and wrestling she-wolves, I was always at least semi-aware of what was happening.

But not this time. No. I'm not sure what did it, but I just decided to let it all go and accept that the Lions were going to lose and lose terribly and I had no desire to see any of it. I figured that the Ravens would shut it down, that the Lions might get a garbage score or two and the game would end up looking a little closer than it was, and I was okay with that. I have seen that story played out far too many times to get worked up about it one way or the other. So, I went about my life for a couple of hours, and then decided to check back on the score. I saw the numbers 48-3 and then just laughed, because really, what the hell else are you supposed to do at that point?

I then decided to delve deeper into the box score, because I am a masochist and a great fool, and discovered that the Ravens rolled up over 500 yards of total offense and that Daunte Culpepper was, well, Daunte Culpepper. I thought back to the announcers talking about how the Lions defense had stepped up a bit over the last few weeks and about how Culpepper knew that he was still capable of being a starting quarterback in the NFL and then I laughed again. I then doused myself in gasoline, lit a match and ran naked and screaming through the streets until a kindly old man beat me half to death with a pillow case full of old batteries in order to put out the fire. I thanked him, went inside, put some Neosporin on, and then read a couple of game recaps, saw that Kevin Smith apparently torched his knee in the fourth quarter and then I went back outside, punched that old man in the face for not allowing me sweet relief and then laid in the snow and cried for a while.

There are days when it feels like there is a point to all this nonsense - well, as much as a point that mere sports can have anyway - and then there are days like today, when it all just seems like an absurd joke, one that ends with a gigantic fart of an explanation point that clears the room and sends old people to the emergency room with watery eyes and lungs full of brown death. Okay, that was kind of disturbing, but so is losing 48-3. I would like to think that my brain somehow knew the horrors that lay ahead and forced me to abandon ship before it was swallowed up and eaten by The Kraken, and for that, I thank it. These are treacherous times, and sometimes you need to take the shameful road of cowardice in order to preserve what's left of your sanity. This is nothing to be celebrated, but then, neither is what happened against the Ravens today. Everyone involved should be ashamed of themselves. Kevin Smith's knee knew it, and it committed suicide rather than live through the horrible conclusion to this epic turd. These are dark days, terrible and obscene, and although we may live to see better days, days like this will haunt the living forever, and perhaps this is the way it should be.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Seriously?

Likes his weed more than his $25 million contract

You are a professional athlete. Let’s skip the whole marijuana thing to start off. What are you doing driving around in a car with an expired tag, no tag light and tinted windows that border on illegal? Not to mention that you just signed a 5 year $25 million contract extension. Oh yeah, and 1.5 ounces of marijuana in the car with you. You sir are a dumbass.

Way to let the team down. Your team is playing .500 ball right now, with still an outside shot of making the playoffs, and a game coming up on Sunday against an undefeated New Orleans Saints team (that you played closely the first time around). Your team has been crippled by injuries this year. Matt Ryan, Michael Turner, Sam Baker, Harvey Dahl, Roddy White and Mike Jenkins are all questionable on the offensive side of the football. On the defensive side Chris Houston (your best CB) has been ruled out for the game, Peria Jerry (who plays your position) and Brian Williams (the best CB until he got hurt) are done for the year. You are one of our better defensive players.

How is weed more important to you than your career which is going to net your $25 million over the next 5 years? And if it is why are you such a dumbass that you are driving around with 1.5 ounces of it in a car that has an expired tag? Especially when you got off easy 3 years ago when you somehow got a felony case of animal cruelty against you dropped.

What a disappointment. Cut this guy and let him spend some quality time with his weed. This guy played on the same team that saw Mike Vick throw millions of dollars in the trash, let down his family, his team and the entire city. I guess this guy was too busy smoking his weed to notice and learn a lesson from it.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

If A Lousy Football Team Is Beaten In The Woods and Nobody Sees or Hears It, Did It Really Happen?

Maybe this poor bastard has the right idea.

I've hit the point where I just want the season to be over with and for next season to get here already. Really, this is kind of how I have felt all season long. I knew that the Lions would still be terrible, but at least I would get to see the progress. I took some solace in that, and I suppose I have been grasping onto that, week after week, game after game, telling myself and you that the games were worthwhile, that even though the Lions would probably lose, at least it would mean that we were one step closer to finally being better. On some level, this has probably been a massive defense mechanism, one that has allowed me to keep going on with this nonsense. You have to trick yourself into this kind of shit sometimes when your team is this bad. It's okay though, Lions fans are experts at this sort of thing. On another level, I really, really believe that each game has been important, that with every one, Matthew Stafford and Calvin Johnson and DeAndre Levy and Jim Schwartz and Ernie Sims' monkey have been able to learn and grow and get ready to actually be a competent football team.

It has been terribly frustrating though to watch them stumble and fall, one by one, never healthy, never able to go out there and have the chance to really put it all together. There have been flashes - isolated plays here and there, the Cleveland game - but thanks to all the injuries, specifically to Stafford and St. Calvin, these guys haven't gotten a real chance to get together on the same page for very long. It has stunted the development of both Stafford and the team as a whole, and has made this entire season seem like somewhat of a lost one. Not entirely, but kind of, if that makes any sense at all. It probably doesn't, but fuck it, since when has sense been my specialty?

Anyway, lost season or not, each week has at least been interesting, if only because we have gotten a chance to see how this team is growing, no matter how slowly or fitfully. Unfortunately, this week, there will be even less growth than usual, and even less of a reason to be interested at all in what happens. The Lions are terrible, their final record will be terrible, and even if they somehow manage to eke out a win against the Ravens on Sunday, it will just be an isolated blip that is essentially meaningless. And why is that? Because Matthew Stafford's dickhead of a shoulder refuses to behave himself, meaning that, yes, it's time once again for Daunte Culpepper to step forward and drive us all to tears and razor blades.

Of course, the reason we know now, rather than Sunday, that Culpepper will get the start is because Jim Schwartz made sure that the decision was made and known by all sooner rather than later despite the fact that he would have liked to have waited until Sunday to make the official call. And why is this? Because Daunte Culpepper carried on like a damn fool on Thanksgiving.

Yes, you all remember that fine scene, one that will surely be remembered fondly as one of the more glorious moments in our proud franchises' history, a moment that saw Daunte Culpepper stomp around the sidelines, hollering at Martin Mayhew because Matthew Stafford got the start that he apparently felt he so richly deserved based on the sterling body of work he had done up until that point in a Lions uniform.

Rather than go through that again, the Lions have apparently decided to forego whatever tactical advantage they could have gained by waiting until the last moment to decide. This allows the Ravens to come up with a game plan specifically tailored to stop Culpepper. And since all you have to do to stop Culpepper is blitz the hell out of him, well . . . I think we can all see where this is heading. So, thank you, Daunte. Your inspiring professionalism has been an inspiration and a blessing in this wonderful joyous season.

Indeed. If the Ravens have anyone with even a half functioning brainstem, they will immediately flash back to the end of the Steelers game, where Culpepper was sacked three times in a row on the final drive, thus destroying any chance the Lions had to win the game, and to the entire Packers game, where Culpepper was harassed and beaten into the turf in a woeful performance. And then their eyes will get really, really big, and they will send blitzers in all day long like a swarm of rabid methed up werewolves. It, uh, it won't be pretty.

One tiny reason for hope is that Ed Reed is unlikely to start for the Ravens, and since his replacement, Tom Zbikowski, is most famous for being a boxing David Eckstein grit merchant at Notre Dame and not for being a, you know, good football player, there is a chance that the Lions and Culpepper will be able to take advantage of this. Unfortunately, the Ravens are probably getting Terrell Suggs back from injury and so it will be difficult for Culpepper to take advantage of Zbikowski since he will likely be getting crushed by the Ravens pass rush all day long.

I guess that leaves most of our hope for victory - absurdly slim as it may be - in the hands of Kevin Smith and the Lions running game. Smith was actually pretty decent against the Bengals, running for 75 yards and averaging over 4 yards per carry against one of the better rush defenses in the league. Unfortunately, he has looked kinda shitty for most of this season, and this week he gets to play against a team that only gives up 3.5 yards per carry, the best in the NFL. Well, so much for that.

With the offense unlikely to generate anything worth getting excited about - or hell, even marginally hopeful about - I suppose it falls on the Lions defense to take control of the game. Excuse me while I chug from this gas can and then swallow this flaming sword.

Yeah. The Lions defense has been terrible this season. Even against the Browns, who at one point this season were dubbed by some the worst offensive team in NFL history, the Lions defense was beaten, left for dead, and then pissed on and eaten by wild wolves. It was a sorry performance, one that completely exposed the depth of the Lions utter incompetence defending the pass. Up until that point, the Browns passing game was a national joke. Had Matthew Stafford not decided to channel the Terminator, everyone would have been comparing Brady Quinn after the game to Joe Montana. It was awful, it really was.

Of course, last week, against the Bengals, the Lions managed to keep Carson Palmer mostly in check, and even forced a couple of interceptions and a fumble following a cornerback blitz. It was probably the pass defense's best performance of the season. Then again, that is kind of like being the world's tallest midget, or, I suppose, the world's happiest Lions fan. Besides, Cincinnati's relatively quiet performance through the air is likely more a function of how conservatively they chose to play rather than anything the Lions really did to stop them.

On the other hand, the Lions did do a good job of disguising their coverage and baiting Carson Palmer into making some bad throws. Perhaps this is a sign of progress, or perhaps this was just a weird anomaly more emblematic of Palmer and the Bengals struggles than anything else. I don't know. The good news is that the Ravens quarterback, Joe Flacco, has been struggling the last several weeks. He was pretty fucking bad against the Packers on Monday night, and if the Lions can bait him - a second year quarterback - as well as they did a veteran like Palmer, maybe, just maybe, they can make something happen.

This is unlikely to happen, though. I mean, the Bengals game right now is just an outlier that really can't be used to definitively say that the Lions can shut down Baltimore's - or anyone else's - passing attack. In general, the Lions have been terrible against the pass and if there is a cure for what ails a young and struggling quarterback, it is looking across the field at the collection of stiffs in Honolulu Blue who make up the Lions secondary.

Even if the Lions somehow manage to stop Flacco cold - and really, if they have any hope at all in this game, they will need to do this - they will still have Ray Rice to deal with. Rice has emerged as a big time playmaker for the Ravens, giving them an actual offensive weapon to go along with their perennially tough defense. The Lions have actually been relatively competent against the run this year - well, relative to the pass defense anyway, but that invites all the tallest midget jokes, etc. and so we won't devolve into that nonsense again, although I suppose I just did. Never mind. Anyway, the Lions have shown an ability to keep an opposing running back in check - an actual, tangible sign of progress this season - and if they can somehow stuff Rice and somehow force Flacco into making a few bad throws, maybe, just maybe, they can give the Lions offense a chance to get into the game.

Of course, then we are brought back around to Daunte Culpepper and his track record of excellence in the last five years, and, well . . . Jesus, I just can't do it. It would take a miracle for the Lions to completely stop the Ravens offense. The defense just isn't good enough, and really, they have to stop them cold. They can't even contain them like they did against the Bengals, because just like against the Bengals, they will end up losing 23-13 or 17-7 instead of 35-13 or 27-7. Right now, the offense is too sloppy and too inconsistent to be able to provide the defense with any margin for error. Take away Stafford and add in Culpepper, and suddenly that margin for error is not even a margin any more. The margin has shrunk and begun creeping up the other side, to the point where not only can the Lions defense not make any mistakes, but they must also make things happen. Basically, the Lions are fucked. Neither the offense nor the defense are any good.

Okay, so there it is. The Lions are screwed, the Ravens will almost definitely win this game, and huzzah for December football. There is a month of football left to be played, and after that we can start talking ourselves into being hopeful for 2010. But for now, all we can do is . . . is . . . you know what? I've got nothing. Fuck it.

FIVE PREDICTIONS EVEN THOUGH I NEVER FOLLOW UP ON THESE ANYMORE


1. Culpepper will struggle against the Ravens pass rush, and will end up throwing for only 150 yards or so and three interceptions. He'll throw one touchdown, a jump ball that Calvin Johnson somehow comes down with and then he will do that stupid dance of his and I will try to swallow my remote in order to choke away all the pain.

2. Kevin Smith will be bottled up. He'll see a lot of work thanks to Culpepper's struggles, but he'll only gain 65 yards on 25 carries.

3. Calvin Johnson will catch 5 passes for 110 yards and the aforementioned touchdown. His hamstrings will then explode as he runs to the sideline and he will be partially eaten by a cheetah, leaving him doubtful for next week. He will only survive due to Zach Follett breaking free of his choke chain and mauling the cheetah. The two will engage in a thrilling duel at midfield but the Cheetah will tire and Follett will skin the poor beast alive and wear his pelt for the remainder of the season. Why there will be a cheetah just hanging out on the sidelines in Baltimore is a mystery, but remember, there are chimps driving cars down in Florida, so who knows? It is a strange world.

4. Flacco will get back on track, completing 25 of 37 passes for 275 yards and three touchdowns. He will also throw one interception.

5. Rice rushes for 80 yards on 15 carries and adds another 80 yards on 6 catches. He scores two touchdowns, and then after the game he returns to his day job, playing one of the munchkins in the Baltimore Community Center's revival of the Wizard of Oz. After all, he can't play forever, and a man must think of his future. Hopefully he doesn't hang himself like that one poor son of a bitch munchkin apparently did on the original Wizard of Oz set. I know you have no idea what I am even talking about anymore, but that's okay, neither do I. We are in this together.

PREDICTED FINAL SCORE: Ravens 31, Lions 10

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

Not Yet. Please?


For the last couple of seasons I have been waiting for Jason Hanson to break down and for his leg to turn into dust, but he just never seems to deteriorate. Season after season, he trots onto the field like some sort of kicking Terminator, rarely missing, always reliable. It feels like he's been the kicker for 118 years and I half expect to see Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod show up with a katana and attack Hanson week after week. There can be only one after all.

Okay, that is two kinda nerdy movie references in one paragraph. Whatever, Terminator, Highlander, who cares, the point, dudes and lady dudes, is that Jason Hanson is old. And somehow, someway, he has managed to ward off the ravages of time and keep kicking well into his golden years. You would think that a man who won the Medal of Freedom after Antietam would be content to live out the rest of his days in peace and harmony. But, no, not Jason. That son of a bitch apparently can't get enough of the horrors of war, because he comes back, season after season, and keeps robotically kicking even as his fellow soldiers fall dead and bloody behind him. Maybe the reason why he is able to keep going year after year is because he is a vampire, and he feeds off the corpses of all those poor Lions who are destroyed in the hell mouth of Detroit football. Such a monster.

Alright, Jesus, every time I try to steer this into a coherent direction, I end up veering into the land of the strange and the absurd. Terminators, Highlanders, Vampires, Civil War Vets, does it ever stop? I am almost positive that I will make a reference to the Holy Grail and everlasting life before this is over, and I apologize in advance, but I suppose I am just trying to put off talking about the terrible and depressing reality that spurred this post in the first place, which is that Jason Hanson might finally be getting . . . old?

Sure, sure, he's old in terms of age. We knew that already - witness all of the above supergibberish - but for the first time he actually looks old. So far this season, Hanson hasn't been quite as consistent as he's been in the past, missing some field goals that he would normally make underwater in his sleep wrapped in chains. Why he would be underwater, asleep wrapped in chains is a mystery, but these are strange and terrible times, and these things happen. Maybe he crossed Ernie Sims' monkey in a poker game and I have said it before, you don't want to cross that mean little son of a bitch.

Okay, okay, I will get back to the main point. It's just that, well, this is hard. Jason Hanson has been the one constant, the one good thing, that we've had as Lions fans for a long, long time. He's the only one of our heroes who has never failed us, who has never flamed out or had a tragic end. So it's been hard to see him struggle a little bit and even harder to contemplate what comes after him. We have learned to tolerate and even accept mediocrity everywhere else, and it is horrible to think that we may have to do it here too. Sure, it's only the kicker, but desperate men must take desperate heroes, and there are no men more desperate than Lions fans. He's all we've had for a long, long time and our adoration of him is a testament to both the sad putrescence of Lions football and to the ability of Lions fans to always find something - anything - to hold onto while the rest of our football world goes to hell.

Sadly, against the Bengals, we got another sign that the Immortal Hanson might be a mere human being after all. For the first time that I can remember, Hanson actually left a kick short. Sure, it was on a 55 yard field goal attempt and it still managed to reach the crossbar, but this has never, ever been an issue with Hanson. This is a dude who has almost unlimited range, a dude who has kicked more 50+ yard field goals than anyone in NFL history. When he does miss, it's always wide, never short. It was kind of a sad moment and it just reminded me that the end will be near sooner rather than later for my man Hanson.

We've been through a lot as Lions fans. We've seen a lot of failure, and felt a lot of pain. We've had very little to hold onto and be genuinely proud of. Jason Hanson is one of those rare things. He's never really gotten a chance to be a money kicker, because really, the Lions have never really been in too many clutch situations, but I think that Jason Hanson is the best kicker of my lifetime. There have been others who have put up higher point totals - think Morten Andersen or Gary Anderson - and there have been others who have delved deeper into the public consciousness thanks to big, unforgettable moments - think Adam Vinatieri - but in my mind, Jason Hanson has been better than all of them. In many ways, he's my favorite Detroit Lion. Sure, I rave about the potential of Matthew Stafford, marvel at the gifts of Calvin Johnson and gibber like a fool about Ernie Sims and his monkey, but Jason Hanson is the only character in the absurd story of the Detroit Lions in my lifetime who hasn't seemed like he was part of the circus. He's the professional, the one dude we never had to worry about. Even Barry Sanders was sucked into the idiot machine that is the Detroit Lions. Even he was tainted by the failure, broken and beaten by it. Jason Hanson wasn't - he isn't - and every time he runs onto the field, it's a unique experience, because it's the only time that we as Lions fans are allowed to feel like, for once, we've got the dude in charge.

Okay, I didn't mean for this to turn into a eulogy for Hanson. It is kind of macabre. I mean, the dude is still out there, still playing, and still very, very good at what he does. I just fear that the days of him being Terminator Hanson might be at an end, and now when he runs out onto the field, that overwhelming sense of confidence and inner peace that he provides will no longer be there.

This post was originally going to be broken up into sections, like I usually do this time every week, where I would discuss several random thoughts from the previous game or things that were going on in the Lions universe. But it just sort of grew from there, and now I just want to let it stand as its own post about Jason Hanson. He's been the man here for a long, long time, and you may say he's only the kicker, but he's our kicker, and when he's gone, I'm honestly going to miss him. Unless of course he gets his hand on the Holy Grail and obtains everlasting life. In which case, well, play forever, noble prince, you'll always be my kicker.

Monday, December 7, 2009

2-10 Is Terrible, But What The Hell, We Have Seen Worse




Rebuilding is hard and it is slow and it is ugly and the road behind it is littered with the dead and the dying. Perhaps that is too bleak, but 2-10 does not engender a whole hell of a lot of positive feelings. It just doesn't, and it would be disingenuous to pretend otherwise. It sucks watching your team lose game after game, and it would be utterly inhuman to just stand passively back from that and say that it doesn't bother you.

Of course, there are signs that things are on the upswing. That Matthew Stafford pass to Calvin Johnson for a touchdown made angel's weep and the choirs of heaven sing. It was astoundingly beautiful and it was better than anything else that has happened over the past decade of terrible torment. That is both an awesome thing and an unfathomably sad thing. One play was better than a decade of failure. The promise that one play held is enough to make me sigh and then smile when I think about the future. But it's also enough to make me glance back at the wreckage of the past and wonder why we couldn't have that, well, ever.

But the past is the past and we are all about rebuilding and moving forward now. In a lot of ways, watching the Lions this season is like watching a toddler careening through the house. Sometimes the kid walks in a straight line and smiles and says something shockingly profound and you can see that one day he will be a real live functioning human being. And then sometimes the kid falls down and shits his pants and starts to sob and nothing you can do can calm him down and the future just seems so far away.

There were other signs that this team is capable of walking and talking. The defense was shockingly decent against the Bengals. They only allowed one offensive touchdown, and although Cedric Benson topped the 100 yard mark he needed 36 carries to get there and ended the day averaging only 3.1 yards per carry. Meanwhile, they held Carson Palmer to 220 yards passing and only 1 touchdown against 2 interceptions. I know that doesn't seem like it's that great, but for the Lions defense, playing a first place team on the road, it was damn near heroic.

It was incredibly frustrating to see the Lions control the game, build a fragile lead and visibly start to gain confidence only to see it all obliterated on a fluke interception off of a deflected screen pass that was returned for a touchdown. It was utterly deflating, like watching a toddler take one step and then another and yet another until they were walking and smiling and excited only to then watch them face plant and bust their nose and cry and cry and cry. It was awful, just terrible and I didn't know whether to feel bad for my dudes or to scream and wonder about why it has to be so absurdly cruel to be a fan sometimes.

Still, even with that the Lions never quite went away. They fought, they clawed, even though they were undertalented and overmatched. Matthew Stafford played and chucked the ball and was hit and driven into the turf again and again and again and each time he got up until finally he couldn't get up anymore. His shoulder is fried, his body is betraying him but he wants to win so bad. You can see it on his face. It is agonizing to see the end, to see happy days on the horizon only to trip and fall or have your body tell you to fuck off every time you try to take a step or two towards it.

This game was both painful to watch and gave me hope for the future. I know I have ranted on and on and on and on about hope this season. It is the overriding theme that always manages to creep it's way into the schizophrenic funhouse of absurdity that is my corner of this blog. It doesn't exactly mesh all the time with the werewolves and the drain cleaner and the tears of blood, etc., but what the hell, that is pretty much this season in a nutshell. Hope and pain, pain and hope.

There is only a month left in this season and by my estimation the Lions could win one more game the rest of the way. It is ugly, it is brutal and in the end the cold stark reality is that this is still a terrible team with a long, long way to go. I don't care. I have been down the road with this team and seen the belly of the beast. I know it's awful, I know there is nothing but acid tipped flaming arrows waiting there for me and for all of us who keep on caring despite ourselves. Still, there is always the chance that one day we will snatch those horrible arrows out of the air and stab our enemies in the neck with them. I have never really believed that before. It's all just seemed too improbable, too absurd, and so achingly far away.

So, why, at 2-10, do I somehow feel different? Why, this time, do I actually believe? I don't know. I really don't. Maybe it's because for the first time I see that the people responsible for all this absurd hellfire actually understand what is going on and seem determined to get out of it before it consumes them. They seem to have a plan and I suppose all I can do is take a deep breath and follow them, because really, what else am I going to do? Then again, maybe 0-16 just wrecked me, broke me in ways that I can't even understand and this is the only way I know how to cope with it all. I have to hope because the alternative is just too horrible, too ridiculous.

This whole season and everything I have written about it is bipolar and vaguely ridiculous. One sentence it's stabbing our enemies in the neck with flaming arrows or some other weird bullshit, the next it's werewolves chugging Drano and spitting blood at terrified strangers. In a sense, I can't wait for it to be over. I just want there to be some idea of what's real, what we can point to and say that's what's right and that's why we're going to be okay, instead of whatever this season is. I'm hopeful, but it all feels like a giant leap of faith sometimes, a leap that frankly I have no business taking. And yet, I've jumped, and I keep jumping, week after week, and every time I fall and bash my head open and I cry as I watch my brains seep out and my blood stain the rocks underneath me. It's horrible, but somehow I keep getting back up and crawling back to the top of the cliff so I can jump again. Maybe that's why this whole thing will be okay and maybe that's what I really know, that everyone involved with this debacle of a franchise, from the front office to the coaches to the players to the fans wants it to change so bad that we are willing to die a million horrible deaths every week just so that we can get the chance to try again the next week.

I don't know. This whole post has veered into the theater of the ridiculous, but these are ridiculous times, I am a ridiculous man and I am a fan of a ridiculous team in a ridiculous season. But to hell with all that, the Lions are 2-10 and next week they will probably be 2-11 and then they will probably be 2-12, and at the end of the season they might be 2-14. I am probably an idiot and a fool for believing in anything beyond that - at least that terrible record is real, it's tangible - but I'm okay with that. It will all be okay. I think. I hope.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Wait... what?


Did that really happen? Are the Steelers that bad? They must be, because there is no reason on Earth why a Bruce Gradkowski lead team should ever be able to win on the road. This team is impossible to figure out. They can beat the Eagles, Bengals and Steelers, yet they can't beat the middle of the road teams. Granted, the Steelers aren't all that impressive this year, but they should still be able to beat the Raiders. I don't know what to think. Louis Murphy continues to be what DHB was supposed to be. Johnnie Lee Higgins finally showed up. Fargas is back to being a sledgehammer. Darren McFadden is looking to be a huge flop. Jamarcus is sitting on the bench, not giving a damn. Tom Cable is running around trying to look like he knows what he's doing. I really have no idea what in the hell to expect from here on out. Is the defense going to tighten up a bit and quit giving up huge plays? Possibly. Is Gradkowski capable of putting points on the board on a regular basis? Doubtful. I'm not sure what it says when a 4 win team manages to exceed your expectations, but that's what I'm dealing with here. Weird.