I know I'm late in commenting, with the impending big game, but after six days I still remain giddy over the epic beat-down the Vikings gave the Cowboys. It's always funny when the national media picks a losing horse to ride, and they had all but guaranteed victory for the Cowboys... to show the depth of their disrespect, the crew calling the game was former Cowboys quarterback Troy Aikman (logical) and to balance that out... Joe Buck, who wouldn't stop wailing in horror when Randy Moss pretended to drop his pants and moon the Green Bay crowd in the '04 play-offs, and pouted when the Eagles referenced that in a TD celebration the following week. Being in the stadium one of the best moments was after the first turnover when it got so loud I thought my ears were going to bleed; I guess watching the game on TV had its own special moment when a speechless Aikman and Buck pouted and refused to call Sidney Rice's first touchdown. The bizarre contention that the Cowboys woes were due to the missed field goals and the Vikings putting an exclamation point on it with the final touchdown... that's just pathetic, to offer any excuse for a team that loses by five scores besides simple incompetence.
This game really illustrated one of the key elements of Vikings success: Ray Edwards. He's the only guy on the D-line not going to the pro bowl, but the Vikings defense very much wanes and waxes with Edwards' penetration into the backfield. He was intended to be a run-stuffer to complement a dominant pass-rusher on the other side of the line, but if he gets loose from the right tackle Edwards causes gameplans to come completely unglued, even when he doesn't get to the QB. One of the numerous sacks on Romo stood out because of the way it started with Ray-Ray getting upfield and starting to find a way around a desperately scrambling right tackle. As he neared Romo, the tackle shoved the lunging Edwards down as a flustered Romo jumped forward out of his way, only to immediately jump back out of the way of a diving Jared Allen. Now completely on the run Romo scrambled left into the void left by Allen, but his inability to get his feet planted and make a play before Edwards and Allen slashed into the pocket meant linebacker Ben Leber had time to come around the corner and meet Romo head on in the open field. And a whole stadium was reminded that Romo is Italian for "happy feet".
Watch and you'll see this is how it happens: finding nobody open in the first three seconds, a QB sees his right tackle losing ground to Edwards and tries to step up in the pocket. Sadly by this point the Williams Wall is chewing up guards and collapsing that pocket on him and he quickly starts moving backwards away from the threat he can see: Edwards. The problem is this means running towards monster sack artist Jared Allen, which quickly turns out to be a bad idea. So the QB either tries to go upfield, in which case a startling number of them get tripped up from behind by Allen and Kevin Williams and then finished off by the linebackers, or he runs right back into the arms of the suddenly free Edwards.
When you have to double-team Allen, you have to double-team Pat Williams, and the linebackers and physical corners stay back in coverage and shut down any quick passing outlet... and that means Edwards has a few seconds against a big slow run-blocking tackle who's got no help if he gets in trouble. If Edwards wins that battle, it's all over. If he's not winning that match-up, the linebackers have to blitz and leave holes open for runners and for short passes, and the QB may have time to let his receivers work. So when Edwards left the game limping last week, everybody held their breath and prayed for his knee.
A week later the other things still running through my mind from that game are Sidney Rice ripping snatching three touchdowns out of the mouth of the Iron Wolf, dragging a Dallas defender on at least two of them and still managing to pull the ball in and achieve separation. (If you're going to tackle a receiver, at least make sure they don't catch the ball and beat you to the end zone, idiots.) Watching a Cowboys safety just give up and watch Rice stroll into the end zone was an amazing sign that we've castrated our former nemesis. Dallas had the better of our first forty years together in the league, but now it's over. I also wonder what was going on with Shiancoe... I was really worried to see our catching tight end miss the whole game due to nagging injuries, but when he came in and still scored on the hapless Cowboys... man that's just cold.
I have no fear of the New Orleans Saints. They're too cocky. Their fans are ripe for punishment from the Gods of Ragnarok for their hubris, having not only rescheduled Mardi Gras months ago to make sure it wouldn't interfere with the apparently inevitable Superbowl victory parade, and now they're selling their tickets to Vikings fans to finance their again inevitable Superbowl trips. I think they might want to have a word with Cris Carter, Robert Smith, and above all Gary Anderson about the fickle nature of destiny. I'm not saying they're not a great team, and that the Vikings are rightly underdogs... but they're ripe for a fall, and if we don't take them down and they go to Miami thinking just to put a cherry on top of the sundae, Peyton Manning will eat them alive.
I say Manning even though I'm rooting for the Jets... about the same time I fell in love with the Vikings I fell in love with a Jets fan about as hard, and it's a toss-up as to which relationship caused me more pain*. But I still have a soft spot for the J-E-T-S, silly New Yawk accent and all. And they have the makings of a team of destiny, oblivious to the reality that they're the worst team on paper, and tweaking the noses of the experts and frontrunners who've all picked their rivals at every turn. Plus I like Bill Simmons notion that the Mount Rushmore of beaten down fan bases is the Vikings, Bills, Browns, and Jets, and that makes a Vikings-Jets Superbowl a beautiful thing. Or alternately a Saints-Jets Superbowl would make a wonderful side show as TV pundits wrung their hands about whether they felt worse about 9/11 or Katrina, and who deserved to win more: New York firefighters or Superdome refugees.
In conclusion, I'll say again that the financial world needs to quit commenting on sports. Between Simon Kuper's consistently idiotic sports column in the Financial Times (it's sad when a frontrunner tries to justify following the in-crowd) and the Wall Street Journal's article on the Vikings that's worse researched than my twitter updates... seriously just sit in your luxury box, sip your champagne, and shut up. We'll even put American Idol on the monitors so you don't get bored by the game. If you're not familiar with the WSJ article, it's kind of a whiny piece on how the Vikings have built their team on free agency, and how could such a thing happen(?!). Their first example: Jared Allen. Who the Vikings acquired in a f***ing TRADE, after his value was reduced significantly by his struggles with alchoholism and a stint in rehab. Their legitimate examples were guard Steve Hutchinson, an established player whose signing did involve a fair bit of silliness between the Seahawks and Vikings over contracts, and tight end Visanthe Shiancoe who was not a superstar, and the unique situation of being the one team in a position to make Favre an offer, but like Allen, Favre was a huge risk.
Some things not mentioned by the article were any explanation of how a small market team could so unfairly steal away the big boys' toys, much less how they did this in a league with a hard salary cap and revenue sharing, where everybody has the same budget for player personnel based on league revenue. Here's some hints for the WSJ: in the final years of Red McCombs tenure as owner, the team positioned itself for a sale by paying way below market for coaching staff and by not signing any long-term contracts that might tie a new owner's hands. They preserved future cap room by guaranteeing salaries rather than giving out signing bonuses, and could cut players with little financial pain. On top of that, some risks paid off (Favre, Allen) and some prospects finally peaked like Sidney Rice and E.J. Henderson (who used to drive me nuts as a young middle linebacker). It's a flash of glory and they may not be able to keep it together, but it sure is fun, even if the Vikings bar in Alphabet City isn't in a posh enough end of town for the WSJ to join in on the party.
In conclusion, SKOL. Thank you.
*-Falling in love with me is reportedly worse than the ebola virus, so I guess I still got the better end of that deal.
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