NFL Thoughts, Week 5

I spent the majority of the weekend barricading myself emotionally from all of the horrible sports news collapsing around me. First was the Yankees’ disastrous elimination by Cleveland, then it was the report that Bobcats Forward Sean May would miss the season with microfracture knee surgery.

Neither of these developments is particularly surprising; in fact, both have become painful annual events in recent years—a sort of sports colonoscopy. The only wrinkle in either of them was Bobcats coach Sam Vincent’s bizarrely sympathetic remarks about the perennially injured and overweight May: “Sean has worked extremely hard to get back on the court this season, which is testimony to his off-season regimen and professionalism.” Either Coach Vincent’s crazy or he was accidentally reading his prepared remarks for whenever Emeka Okafor (who actually IS hardworking) inevitably injures himself later this year. There is no way on earth that Sean May—who, if he were your sister, you’d describe as “pleasantly plump”—worked extremely hard at anything this off-season other than maybe Halo 3. Half the problem with May’s knees has always been his extra girth, so Vincent’s claims are a token formality that glosses over an absolute impossibility, similar to how each cereal used to advertise that it “stays in crispy in milk.”

Without May to shore up the frontcourt, and with Primoz Brezec missing time due to “family issues” (considering he’s from Slovenia, the possibilities of whose those issues could be are practically endless), 2nd year beanpole Ryan Hollins is our new starting center by default. At least Hollins has clearly put some deep thought into his newfound responsibilities. “So me moving around, running after rebounds, and not just banging into guys but playing good defense with my hands up, that’s going to make me more valuable to the team,” Hollins articulated to reporters a few days ago after practice. “All I have to do is rebound, block shots, and play a role.” Wait a sec, Ryan, rebounding and blocking shots is your role—crap, he’s already confused…

Suffice it to say I was hardly in the mood for any Panthers news, because it’s almost NEVER good nowadays. But by golly they beat the Saints, with no small amount of thanks due to Kris Jenkins, who gave the type of majestic motivational speech not heard since Bluto’s in Animal House. “When 11 people play together on both sides of the ball and special teams, that’s what helps you win. It’s not always the Xs and Os and the skill set that you have and the tackling, it’s the integrity that you have when the chips are stacked against you. It didn’t look good at all points of the game, but we found a way.”

I dare you to read those words of utterly profound sublimity and not find yourself softly humming the “Battle Hymn of the Republic.”

Jenkins was wrong about one thing, however: it didn’t look good at any points of the game. New Orleans had nearly twice as many first downs and third down conversions, a hundred more yards of offense, and eleven more minutes of ball possession. Plus, we somehow managed the nearly impossible task of letting David Carr get knocked around even more than he did with Houston. But a win is a win. And the Panthers are in 1st place. And Sean May is apparently a hardworking professional. Perhaps I need to reexamine my beliefs, which tend to lack integrity (especially when the chips are stacked against me).

Offensive Player of the Week: Kris Brown, Texans. 5-for-5 on field goals, including two 54-yarders and a 57-yarder to win it. An historically great performance in Houston that prevented an Enron-sized meltdown against the woeful Dolphins.

Defensive Player of the Week: Carlos Rogers, Redskins. Six tackles and a pick-six to completely shut down the Detroit offensive juggernaut. Lots of credit needs to go—for the first time ever—to Redskins defensive coordinator Gregg Williams, who realized that Lions QB/religious zealot John Kitna is certifiably insane, and hence not afraid of something so sectarian and earthly as constant blitzing—you might as well be threatening a suicide bomber with a can of pepper spray. So Williams simply rushed his front-four and kept his linebackers back, and Kitna couldn’t handle the extra coverage. Score one for evolution!