Brett Fraud-re

I'm past the point of wishing death to everyone in New York City and getting the blog scoped out by the Department of Homeland Security, and up to the second stage of Patriots Football Grief, wishing death just to key NY Jets personnel, particularly Brett Favre.

Here's the thing, I didn't learn anything from yesterday's debacle. We knew the Patriots were better than the Bills. We knew the Dolphins were better than the Jets and knew the Ravens were better than the god-awful Jaguars. We knew Brett Favre was ancient and unreliable, like sundials or chivalry. Plus, I think deep down inside we all knew that losing in overtime at home to the Jets would come back to bite eventually.

But that doesn't mean we don't have the right to be mad. Yesterday's performance by the Patriots in the wind was herculean, with Matt Cassel getting his Bill Paxton on, passing and punting into a twister I expected to see a cow or a trailer fly through. He and the defense took care of business the best they could. Unfortunately we had to depend on a team so horrible that by 6PM its fans were rooting against themselves

And as bad as the Jets defense was (more Swiss than cheese really), Brett Favre was epically putrid. He had a trilogy of interceptions, each worse than the one before. It was like The Mummy of quarterback performances. The first deep ball was not horrible but had me wishing I hadn't seen it. The second pass I couldn't believe anyone would make. Favre threw to a receiver he couldn't see because he was hiding behind the massive defensive lineman who ended up catching, running and scoring. The third pick was a walk off interception. We walked out before it was all over, nothing was said.

The second and third picks were Chicago Black Sox interceptions... ones that make you question allegiances and motives. Ones that give the censors of your brain the hour off and you spew hate at Brett Favre and his shoulder and his family and even his performance in There's Something About Mary. Its wishing aloud for news stories of the Jets team plane crashing, or a stampede of fans leaving the Meadowlands resulting in a massacre of turncoat Jets fans. Yesterday we spent more than an hour discussing whether kidnapping his daughter was the best way to send a message. That is the aforementioned first stage of grief.

Now I'm only wishing for news about Favre's shoulder injury being a malignant tumor that requires amputation. That is my second stage. I assume the next stage becomes an even lesser degree of rage, one where Eric Mangini's job is some sort of acceptable collateral damage. But currently I can't imagine when that day will come.

But that douzy of a third stage (and whatever lies beyond that... maybe the whole forth or fifth "There's always next year" stage) won't be hastened by all the things that remind me of Favre; its like trying to get over an old girlfriend. Whenever I hear Madden verbally felate Brett Fav-rah's warrior mentality, or he inevitable skips of the Pro-Bowl (really?!?! Favre's 22/22/81 rtg over Cassel's 21/11/89.4 or Pennington's 19/7/97.4 or Rivers' 34/11/105.5), or the months of will he/won't comeback rumors, it will be a remind of the pain.

Here's the dirty little secret in it all: Brett Favre sucks. Maybe not always, maybe not even most of last year, but those days have passed and now he just sucks. He ruined the Patriots' somehow under-dog season, he ruined the Jets for a few years to come, he ruined Mike Smith's chances at coach of the year (he's lead blocking for Sparano now) and he ruined his own name.

He has almost as many shameful records as celebrated ones, lets talk about those. 22 interceptions led the league this year, and don't pretend they weren't in crunchtime. Lets talk about his backstabbing of Green Bay and don't pretend he didn't also force the hand of the Jets front office. He ruined Cameron Diaz, Wrangler Jeans, and the number 4, for me. I'm even finding myself questioning that awesomely groomed yet somewhat unrefined facial stubble. Basically my world is shattered. I hate you Brett Favre.

End of an Error

So I opened up a newspaper today. I don't make a regular practice of this, like 98% of regular people, because I get my news online, or on TV. The actual reason I opened up the paper today was because I was bored at work and looking for a Sudoku, so I grabbed the Washington Post Style Section. For those not acclimated to the Post's Style section, its the name of their Arts section and is "Section C." Anyway, the cover of the Style Section today has a glowing article on Amy Adams, one of the stars of Doubt. Under Amy Adams (= an enviable place) and under the fold (= death in newspapers) I happened to stumble across this little gem.

"WUSA Moves to One- Person News Crews."

For those who don't want to read the whole article, let me USA Today it for you: Basically the Washington DC local CBS affiliate doesn't have enough money to keep sending out reporters with camera crews when covering stories and are cutting back. They are cutting the cameramen and starting to hire people who can be news one-man-bands, thus lowering the quality of the reporting and production in order to save salaries. As if local television news could get worse at reporting and production.

The thing about this story is that its a micro version of a macro problem, that started with newspapers and has clearly spread like a cancer to its next host, local TV. Washington DC is the seventh largest media market in the country so I can only imagine what kinds of changes and cutbacks are in store for everywhere else that isn't NYC, LA, Chicago, San Fran, Philly, and Dallas. This has to be the beginning of a bigger problem, and with media folk holding the magnifying glass, it will be a problem that won't be under-reported.

Today's media unwritten rule seems to be "Go big or go home." This is the case as media conglomerates such as ESPN, CNN, Bloomberg, and the networks have undergone many fewer cutbacks and curtailments than smaller operations. If you aren't with the "bigs" than literally the idea of going home has two meanings. Either get laid off as jobs are cut everywhere from the technical or editorial side of things, or go home and blog, or become one of the many mo-jos (mobile journalists) that are much more attractive hires. That means learning new skills like how to operate the camera, write a news story, shoot the news story, and edit the news story by yourself, sacrificing some integrity with each step along the way (the article admits that a few places that tried mo-jos have backtracked due to the shoddiness of the final product).

I know both people who are employed in this way and who were employed in this way and I can say first hand that the drop-off between this product and a regular story is severe (think '07 Patriots to the Brady-less '08 Pats). So I say to local television media, "Hi, welcome to the life boat. You may want to sit a little closer to newspapers because we're expecting full occupancy."

Oh yeah and if you don't think newspapers are doomed, try this on for size. The Dallas Morning News and Fort Worth Star Telegram, two rival newspapers in media market #6, either will soon or have started sharing beat writers. Detroit's two biggest newspapers (media market #10) are getting a tummy-tuck and a non-daily home delivery schedule. There's too many more examples to cite, but I think we all get it by now.

NFL Playoff Run- Wizard of Oz Edition

And down the stretch they come!! Three weeks of NFL regular season left and there are a lot of contenders and really no outright favorite. Last year the Pats were Vegas (almost) mortal locks; they were something like 1:2 favorites to win the Superbowl before the playoffs started.

This year no one has separated themselves, no one seems invincible, no one doesn't have a somewhat glaring weakness. In that sense, this years playoff race is setting up like a current day, roided up version of The Wizard of Oz only without any munchkins, unless you count Bob Costas. Anyway, like Dorothy and her ragtag friends, each of this years contenders needs to find something on their journey to make that next step to reach the end. Lets review the 10 biggest contenders (according to ESPN's NFL Power Rankings) and their needs:

10) Patriots- The Patriots biggest problem has been consistency, a weird problem for a team with such solid coaching. Mostly its due to the age of their defense, injuries that make you question if there is a God, and every team's desire to avenge F-U touchdowns and Spygate leftovers. A few blowout wins, a few blowout losses (all to potential playoff teams) create no genuine identity of the team. As truly unlikely as it seems, if the Pats can gain some semblance of consistency, their skill and experience can carry them to a few vics.

9) Cardinals- The Cardinals, like Matt Leinart's sex life, can seemingly score in droves. Somehow Kurt Warner is concussion free this year and the Cards have the best wideout tandem in years. They are 7-1 on the West Coast and 1-3 in other timezones. More than anything they need an antidote to the road woes, some road identity. Likely ending up in the three seed in the NFC, the Cards could have to travel to New York or Carolina (again and again) , and be able to perform away from the desert.

8) Cowboys- Like the Lion in WoO the Cowboys are in desperate need of some heart. They may not be as cowardly as the Lion but any team with Terrell Owens, Pacman Jones, Jessica Simpson's boyfriend, and a pair of Roy Williams' will be lacking in the heady departments. Most recently owner Jerry Jones called out beastly running back Marion Barber and his manliness, because that ever works. The Cowboys will have a tough road ahead, mostly on the road, but their skill won't fail them. If/when the Cowboys falter, you can bet it will be a mental mistake.

7) Ravens- The Ravens may be the un-Cowboys. Heart they've got, and plenty of it, from vets slash accused murderers like Ray Lewis to the brazen rookie Joe Flacco. The Ravens need what the Cowboys have in spades, some raw skill. If their receivers are sitting coach class, their running backs are stuck in the bathroom because the food-cart is outside the door. Defense is a symptom common to Super Bowl championships but talent shines in January although the 2000 Ravens had NO Pro Bowlers on offense, so forget we had this discussion.

6) Buccaneers- Its hard to tell what the Bucs need because its hard to tell what the really do Bucs well. They have a pretty good defense, experienced and decent options at QB and RBs, and receivers that deserve lauding. A list of their strengths aren't so potently strong. They don't overwhelm you anywhere and aren't mistake-prone (Garcia only 3 INTs), they sort of just float on unsuspecting. That doesn't work in the playoffs and this team needs to show up, and create an image for themselves. Do they want to be the decent at everything, outstanding at nothing team that plays one playoff game? Time for Chucky to put his team infront of a mirror and find some answers.

5) Colts- I have been correctly called out for a gambling crush on the 2008 Colts, one that hasn't yielded many happy finishes. Let's be clear, having won six in a row or not, the 08 Colts aren't the Colts we are used to. They don't make big plays, they are run first, and don't blow out teams. Sure they can still score, but mostly our old nemeses (really who ever liked the Colts) are getting older. Marvin Harrison scares no one, Reggie Wayne lost a step, Dallas Clark's concussions have finally taken their toll, and the walking commercial reel is not the steady-handed surgeon we used to fear. The Colts need a breath of fresh air to rejuvenate some of these familiar vets.

4) Panthers- Anyone who watched the Panthers evisceration of the Bucs last night on MNF saw something scary. Running for 300 yards and four TDs against a team who had allowed one rushing TD all year speaks for itself. Their defense, like the two-headed running game, went from sneaky-good to flat-out-good before our eyes last night. One glaring hole for the Panthers is perhaps their most visible player, Jake Delhomme. He stinks worse than Sex Panther (26th in passer rating, 17th in yards passing, 25th in comp%) and their running game can only hide him for so long. Its too late to get a QB, but they need one nonetheless.

3) Steelers- The Steelers have courage, skill, experience, defense, offense, and the list goes on. They beat bad teams, they beat good teams. Overall this may be the most well rounded team, but are still a team with one legitimate problem. Big Ben, Willie Parker, Heath Miller, LaMarr Woodley have all missed games due to injuries. They need to get healthy but future slugfests with the Ravens and Titans won't help things. The Steelers grind out wins so there is no let up on the horizon.

2) Giants- What a couple weeks for the Giants? From knocking off the Steelers and convincing everyone that the Superbowl went through the Meadowlands, to a stray bullet in Plaxico's pants (not this kind, the dangerous kind), and a ghastly loss to the Eagles, and now the Giants are a little dependent on their rear-view mirrors. The G-Men could use a bit of humility, in my humblest opinion of course. Remember them this time last year, severe underdogs, and really a fluke catch away from being that way this year too. Eli is improved but still vulnerable and a loose cannon, and now has lost his only scary receiver. The Giants should go back to their roots and understand that no one coasts to Lombardi trophy.

1) Titans- The Titans are crazy talented and backed by a core of guys named Chris Johnson, Lendale White, Bo Scaife, Cortland Finnigan, Chris Hope, and a dude who stomped on someone's head with cleats. This is a team full of indians and Kerry Collins doesn't seem like the chief that takes this kind of defensive, running team to the promised land. The Titans need leadership on the field that can prevent no-show losses to the Jets, and then the undisciplined outbursts that follow losses. Week 16 and 17 match ups with the Steelers and Colts might be the exact challenge that will draw find a leader from amongst the common men.

Not Not Untitled Field Trip: GW vs. Tennessee Women's Basketball

There were only 3 reasons you could have possibly held a ticket to the George Washington vs. Univ. of Tennessee hoops game tonight: 1) You didn't see the word 'Women's' across the top 2) You are a massive connoisseur of sport 3) You are a lesbian. There simply aren't any other reasons you would have attended the game. However, all those who didn't fit into those three categories (and for the record, I consider myself apart of group 2 but maintain fan-dom of group 3) missed a shockingly and thoroughly unexpected experience.

To start, let me explain that I am an alum of GW and still live relatively proximate to the campus. Furthermore, I live, work, and dream sports so getting a chance to see Pat Summitt (and by association the Lady Vols) was somewhere between a 'must' and a 'Tuesday is a horrible television night.' I wasn't expecting much in terms of points, or excitement, or even fun, but as a sports fan it was my duty to observe a living legend. So I joined up with my GW hoops friends (we all own men's seasons tickets together) and bundled up to brave the cold, mysterious frontier that is DC winter weather and women's college basketball.

Getting to our seats was a challenge in itself. We had to wade through a sea of lesbians. There were enough lesbians (not that there is anything wrong with them) to spawn an softball team, nay, softball league. These lesbians were orange-clad, she-mullet (can we just call them mull-ettes?) coiffed, and boisterous; not the lesbian type privy to IMDB profiles littered with Skinemax cameos.

Speaking of Skinemax, Tennessee's best player is a freshman with a body for basketball success and a name for porn stardom. Let me introduce you to 6'3" Glory Johnson. She is a beast on the court and definitely the next big thing in women's hoops (assuming Candace Parker was the last big thing or that there has ever been a big thing in women's hoops). She rebounds over everyone, sets monstrous picks, and can score against guards or centers. The next time you're at a dinner party and the conversation turns to ladies hoops, drop her name and wow your friends; it's a cant miss.

Meanwhile a funny thing happened on the way to this game being a snoozer, GW showed up to play. Though down eight at halftime, the Colonials brought Pat Summitt and the crowd to their feet on many occasions in the second half. It may not be admirable but I can admit to standing, cheering, screaming (?!?!) for G-Dub to get a few more stops during a run where we brought the deficit to two points before missing a wide open lay up to tie the game. Go figure.

Pat Summitt has 989 career wins and for many reasons I was hoping to be able to say I hadn't seen one of them. Alas I left the gym with a surprising sense of entertainment and re-evaluation of women's sports on the whole. Will I go back to another women's game this year? Its highly unlikely, but even if its one in a million, I'm saying there's a chance.

The DUI Rule

Keith Olbermann is known for his "Worst Person in the World" segments and Bill Maher is known for his "New Rules" segments, and I will now steal both. If you steal from one author, its plagiarism; if you steal from many, it's research (just kidding, I stole that too. Big ups to Wilson Minzer on that one).

Anyway, this week there was a legitimate worst person, our old friend Jim Leyritz. If you don't know Jim Leyritz here is his wikipedia page, and basically he's a retired baseball player who played mostly for the Yankees, but also the Red Sox and many others. What is relevant for today's lesson is that allegedly last December, he ran a red light and struck and killed a woman in Florida. The woman was a young mother.

Almost 11 months later and Leyritz still hasn't been tried but was in court this week and delivered this stinkbomb: he petitioned a judge to removed a bothersome (his word,not mine) breathalyzer that has been installed in his car. His lawyer said in a statement in a court of law "He cannot leave the car with a valet, because it cannot be started by the valet. " Another problem apparently that Leyritz "can't eat things like chicken Marsala" because the wine content can set off the breathalyzer. You can read the report here if you need more.

Wow. (Take a minute and let that sink in) It's too easy to skewer him, there is just too much material. You could question why he's allowed a car at all, or what they serve to prison inmates who commit vehicular homicide, or whether the victim's family uses valet.

I think the problem is bigger than the ass-hattery of Jim Leyritz. It's about the all too frequent nature of pro athletes (and celebrities, and really everyone) acquiring DUI's like they are parking tickets. Even in cases when no one gets hurt, I dont think the meager fines, occasional suspensions, and the usual bad-mouthing is even close to enough penalty to dissuade others from making the same mistakes.

Here's where the new DUI rule comes into play. Anyone who gets a DUI is banned from the following events: All Star Weekend (applicable to NBA, MLB, NHL, for the NFL we can call it Superbowl Weekend), any league award (applicable to all sports) and the US Olympic Team (applicable to NBA, NHL). No way no how should DUI-ers represent our country, and who would argue against this? Also watch them squirm when they are not allowed at the All-Star parties and events that even Flava-Flav gets into. Furthermore they lose other pro-athlete perks such as no more comp'ed seats for family members and friends, their names in video games, and softball questions from the media. And definitely no valet service and chicken marsala.

One strike is all athletes should get, They have too much money NOT to have a chauffeur, a limo, a chauffeur with a limo, or taxi service to drive over state lines. To me its more about the excessive money at their disposal than that whole role model thing. Kids who are old enough to understand DUI's are old enough to realize that athletes aren't role models for the most part.

In order to buck this problem we need to start hitting offenders where it hurts. These fines are like shooting buffalos with BB guns, and suspensions are just mini-vacations for most of these guys. No more warning shots across the bow, its time to strike at their egos, their taken for granted benefits, and their reputations.

The Double Standard

So here's the scene: I am at a bar Saturday night in DC, talking to a pretty girl, which means full-on use of negs, DHV's and other tidbits I've learned from The Pick-up Artist. From the corner of my eye, I can see on the bar TV that BC is beating down FSU and realize I need to check the Oklahoma State score. I pull out my phone, check the score, and look up just in time to see said chick rolling her eyes at my frustration that they aren't covering. Now I realize its a little lame to be at a bar, talking to a girl, and wondering if Oklahoma State is going to beat Colorado by 16.5, but I get that "oh-you're-betting-on-sports" eye roll all the time, and I'm starting to get a little sick of it.

There is a huge double standard in this country between wagering on sports and wagering on the economy, or as you may have heard the newspeople call it, playing the stock market. But in the end stocks and Wall Street, are all just fancy-speak for gambling. Now I'm not a business school graduate but I understand the basics of the biz. The cornerstone idea being that when you buy stock in a company, you are gambling that your share or stake in them will do well. You are risking your money that a specific entity will perform better than others.

Now please tell me what is so different between that and gambling on a team to win a game? In the former situation, you are risking your money that a specific entity will perform better than others (taken from above) and in the betting on sports you are also risking your money that a specific entity will perform better than others. So why is gambling so looked down upon, especially these days when the stock market has pregnant woman's mood kind of volatility?

Like gambling on companies, gambling on teams requires research (at least if you like money). Besides luck, success is dependent on knowledge of the subject and understanding management concepts. There are however, many more outlets for helping one select stocks efficiently, than a pro or college team. CNBC, Bloomberg, Fox Business are all channels devoted to reporting earnings and offer stock suggestions while ESPN and others deliver results on what has happened but lacks offering insight for prognosticating future results.

There are too many parallels between the two wagering opportunities for there to be the kind of looking-down-one's-nose that exists with sports gambling (and its not just that girl, its also my co-workers' comments when they see me wagering online, and my dad's reaction when I root for the Colts to score one more TD to cover against the Texans, and the general demeanor of iPhone carriers when I ask them to check the score of the Notre Dame/Navy game). How come bookies are seedy while stock brokers are professional. Gambler's anonymous exists but I cant find anything about stock market dependencies.

Both have their share of cheaters too. The Chicago Black Sox are the historic example of the current day Enrons, Martha Stewarts, and Mark Cubans. Entire sections of newspapers are devoted to the results of both sports and businesses but apparently putting your money on one is much more civilized than putting it on the other. Diversifying one's assets is fodder suitable for a wine-tasting and talking about a three-team parlay is banter served with a PBR.

One problem is that sports gambling doesn't have the fancy euphemisms that investing does. First example is the word investing... it sounds nice and reputable, unlike gambling. Sports gambling needs a term like "portfolio" for explaining the cache of teams one has wagers on. Sports gambling also needs words like "firms" or "commodity" instead of terms like "propositions" and "lines" (those are drug dealer terms!).

I also think an answer lies in the government's involvement in each. Gambling on sports is illegal in the US, outside of Las Vegas, while you will find no across the board restrictions on investing. The problem is that the government reaps ridonculous yields from the country's investments (sans that whole bailout thing nowadays). The government is fueled by a good economy and heavy demand for stocks because it means that its companies are performing well. The value of companies and the value of the work they do, drives up the dollar value and our government's worth. Then, if you should "win" money from your investments, don't think you get the entire sum without seeing part of it chopped off for taxes. Feelings of Captain Hadley in Shawshank Redemption (any excuse to quote Shawshank) when he said "Uncle Sam. Reaching into your shirt and squeezing your tit til it's purple." I'm not saying that the government should get in bed with gambling and then tax winnings but if it led to legalizing sports gambling, it might be worth a try. It's not like its any less noble of a business than the lottery.

I just want to get sports gambling on a more even playing field. I feel like I have to hide my joy at big payday weekends or consider lying to others about why I am excited to hear that Syracuse lost again. There is not the same outlet to celebrate a five-team parlay as there is when someone discovers a blue-chip commodity and there is definitely not the same sympathy for losing a big bet as there is for those who struck out on Wall Street (do you see any sympathy here?). I want to shout "I love sports gambling" from the top of a mountain. Maybe President-elect Obama can take this on after he fixes the BCS.

Bond: You Only Live Twice

Quantum of Solace debuts this month and to prepare for the occasion, and thanks to the help of Comcast Cable On Demand (note: I will NEVER thank Comcast for anything else EVER) I am planning on running the gauntlet on the Bond films. Since I haven't seen an embarrassingly large number of the non-Brosnan 21 films, I'm starting from the first one and working my way through history. These Bond flicks in HD, along with more James Bond fun (here and here) will be my study prep for QOS. The following are the reports on each film, for those who don't have the time or those who liked SparkNotes in high school.

You Only Live Twice (1967) watched 11/10/08

PREMISE:
Just when you thought you knew of 007's Earthly limitations, he shows up for You Only Live Twice and brings down a rouge space satellite, which threatens the peace between the US and USSR. That's right, Bond in space!! YOLT is a stellar installment where Bond goes places literally and figuratively we haven't seen in the first four episodes. On the literal side Bond spends most of the film in Japan tracking down the latest apocalyptic peril, and on a less literal level he deals with his own death and a few trust issues.

Taking down a satellite AND a SPECTRE-backed plot isn't an easy task for any one man, so Bond's plans are complex and involve many aspects. The first problem is Bond's early death... or so we think! (This would be a spoiler only to those dumb enough to think Bond could die nine minutes into the movie... hint there are about 17 Bond films to follow) The faked death would make Jack Bauer proud the scene where Bond is brought back is one of the coolest so far in Fleming's series.

After the revelation that 007 is still alive, Bond goes through a series of smaller battles including him infiltrating a heavily guarded industrial factory, destroying four helicopters in his solo-copter, landing a rigged-to-crash plane at the last second, and undergoing a Japanese makeover. The makeover included some sort of eye manipulation and a stereotypical black wig, and for those scoring at home, it is the second most un-politically correct piece of the movie trailing Bond's question to his Asian lover: "Why do Chinese girls taste different than other girls?" That seems out of bounds for even Mad Men dialogue.

And Bond gets more help than ever before, this time from a squad of Japanese ninjas, most of whom are sacrificed in a evil-lair storming scene eerily reminiscent of Normandy Beach. Once inside the base we get some of the Austin Powers fodder including piranha's trained to kill (post-kill line: "Bon appetite"), a self-destruct command, and a comic reveal of the SPECTRE leader. Yadda yadda yadda Bond foils the plot and for the second time in five films, we hit the credits with 007 getting cozy in a raft with his latest swing.

THE BOND GIRL:
YOLT puts a lot less impact on one Bond girl, but if there is one woman who takes the lead role it is Mie Hama (somewhere Asian Nomar just got a boner) who plays Kissy Suzuki. In a role reversal from the last few installments, Kissy is an aide of Bond's, as the head of Japanese secret-service. Besides being deployed into the field where she is handy with the steel (to earn her keep), she plays a role in a fake marriage to Bond during his Asian "transformation."

Like Bond, Kissy seems to have no fears and willing to sacrifice all for the chance to make things right. She is central to the sabotage of SPECTRE's lair and the foiling of the evil plot, plus I already explained where she ends up when all is said and done. However we really never learn much about Kissy including her background or much about her personality. Except for her good looks she is almost as bland as the hundreds of extra ninjas. Hama, is a Japanese actress who brings a new flavor to Bond girls, and I give her a very bland double-o-5 out of ten.

WHAT TO TAKE AWAY:

This is basically the end of the Sean Connery era and its sad to see him go, especially of Roger Moore sucks as bad as I hear. Connery brought unbelievable personality to the Bond character, including an awesome accent, unbelievable chauvinism, and a plume of chest hair. Besidesthe apex of Connery-isms YOLT is much more of a snapshot of the times than the other films. We are treated to a 1960's display xenophobia and Cold War fears that were rampant in the time of release.

Bond: Thunderball

Quantum of Solace debuts this month and to prepare for the occasion, and thanks to the help of Comcast Cable On Demand (note: I will NEVER thank Comcast for anything else EVER) I am planning on running the gauntlet on the Bond films. Since I haven't seen an embarrassingly large number of the non-Brosnan 21 films, I'm starting from the first one and working my way through history. These Bond flicks in HD, along with more James Bond fun (here and here) will be my study prep for QOS. The following are the reports on each film, for those who don't have the time or those who liked SparkNotes in high school.

Thunderball (1965) watched 11/5/08

THE PREMISE:
Bond is back and this time SPECTRE has a new plan to foil the efforts of 007, with two stolen NATO atomic bombs. Bond's duty, which he quickly chooses to accept, is to retrieve the bombs and save NATO 100 million pounds in ransom money. In preparation for an amphibious journey, Bond just so happens to run into a SPECTRE henchman and officially has a lead for his mission, onto Nassau!

This is not a vacation, Bond is reminded by M that this is no vacation, and we quickly get the point as Bond survives a couple quick assassination attempts and meets a sinister fellow (obviously decked out in eyepatch) upon his arrival. Bond is also equipped with a Geiger counter, underwater camera, and a very hipster red leather-looking scuba suit. With his either really cool or really flamboyant gear set, Bond meets Domino (see Bond Girl), the estranged brother of henchman #1. Domino leads to Largo, arch-enemy #1 in Thunderball who relishes and matches Bond's wit and brashness, in many psychological pissing contests.

One thing leads to another and we end up with finding Bond in situations like the bugging his hotel room with the tape recorder in the hollowed book trick, the having sex in a steam room trick, and fighting way too many bad guys in an underwater spear-fight trick. Much of the film's violence actually occurs underwater in scuba suits with spears (post-kill line "I think he got the point"), a first for the Bond series, and its visual effects were Oscar-rewarded. Hardware notwithstanding, Thunderball was a bit of a drag, especially after Goldfinger. The underwater scenes, while revolutionary, seemed endless and it was often hard to tell which body was Bond's. The parade chase scene could also have used a good edit or seven.

Bond is still Bond though, and you cant argue with that. He tallies three more notches on his bedpost and another steamingly hot Bond Girl in Domino. His knack for the gadgets and willingness to punch cross-dressing funeral goers (ridiculous scene alert!) is admirable and cinematic poetry.


THE BOND GIRL:
The aforementioned Domino is another thoroughbred in the long line of Bond heroins. Domino in this case is a fickle beast; the brother of a spurned SPECTRE member, and the mistress of another, she is in a 1960's version of a Shakespeare tragedy. James Bond enters stage left and pursues the layered Domino to a point where she is saved on a number of levels and left in the safe arms of 007.
Domino is played by the desirable Claudine Auger. Visually tempting and ethically suspicious, it is clear why both Bond and the viewer are drawn to her and she is a trophy-case exploit for Bond, winning her over and additionally turning her against her lover. I will give her a double-0-8 out of 10.


WHAT TO TAKE AWAY:
Following Goldfinger is like following Lisa Lampanelli at a Comedy Central roast (NSFW), and Thuderball's biggest detraction is just that. It's not particularly memorable but not particularly bad, its just there, as Bond film #4. The special effects are its most notable triumph, and for someone watching in 2008, that novelty falls by the wayside. What's left is Sean Connery continuing to be the man; whether it's in a jet-pack evading a murder, or just diffusing a bombshell with just his accent and charm, Connery's Bond is reason enough to stay tuned.

Un-Patriotic Talk

If you've followed the election (read: news) at all, its not news that many of Barack Obama's critics have called him unpatriotic. Recently, I have felt like Barack Obama. Not because I'm a big deal or that I'm black, but more that I too, have been called unpatriotic. Unlike Barry O, I've been slandered more by my friends, who think my lack of faith in the New England Patriots is sacrilege and heresy. I don't get flack for not wearing Patriots logos on my lapels but I do lose points for my declared lack of faith in my nation.

It all started when my friends and I began a NFL confidence pick 'em pool. Last year we all had the Patriots maxed out almost every week, that was a given for a 16-0 team. However this year, there was the incident-that-shall-not-be-spoken-of in week one and with a Brady-less team, I think the Patriots are Lindsay Lohan types of exposed (in the NSFW link kinda way).

Yadda, yadda, yadda, now the Patriots have drifted up and down my confidence board and in a couple weeks have even no-showed. Against the Chargers and Colts in weeks six and nine, I predicted (correctly) that the Patriots would lose. Everyone accepts that Matt Cassel is the 2008 recession-era version of Tom Brady, but I would go even farther. I posit our defensive backs are inexperienced and soft without Rodney Harrison, our linebackers old and stale, and offensive studs cannot be taken advantage of without Brady. This year's Moss and Welker are like toys on Christmas that don't come with AA batteries; they exist, but not to their fullest.

All season I've watched the Patriots squeak by cellar dwellers like the Chiefs and Rams. Even in wins against the Jets and the Broncos (41-7 on MNF!!!) I have been underwhelmed. Probably I am jaded by the ghost of Patriots' past and the other Boston sport successes, but I feel like I am the only who can see through the homer filter and understand that the only thing keeping these Pats above .500 is a horrendously weak schedule (even I can agree 9+ wins and the playoffs are a possibility).

But last night something changed. The Patriots showed up against the Colts, and for the first time all year, really impressed me. Final score notwithstanding, the Patriots hung with a fully rostered, albeit rusty Colts team. They handled Peyton, Wayne, and Addai more than I ever expected them too and even moved the ball on offense with a second-string QB and a third-string RB. The offensive line shined, Kevin Faulk drank from the fountain of youth, and Cassel wasn't a potential mole. All night I sat there with my re-found pride of the Patriots, like Michelle Obama with the US.

Then something else changed. Bill Belichick took the Patriots out of a game. I know there was a dropped touchdown and a drive-ending penalty, but to me General Hoodie kept the Pats out of the win column. First it was challenging a non-penalty that would net us five lame yards (unsuccessfully). And then it was a premature two point conversion. And then a second guessing timeout, which was our last one, early in the fourth. And then, and then, and then.

Coach didn't let up first downs, didn't drop six points, and didn't take a shot at a Colt after a play. But when we had a 4th and 15 with four minutes left, we had to go for it because stopping the clock wasn't an option. When we needed timeouts to mount a final drive, we didn't have them. And for the first time, our coach wasn't the best general on the field. It's two jarring changes in confidence but I think there's a better chance that the Pats keep impressing me than that Belichick keeps depressing me from here out.

Bond: Goldfinger

Quantum of Solace debuts this month and to prepare for the occasion, and thanks to the help of Comcast Cable On Demand (note: I will NEVER thank Comcast for anything else EVER) I am planning on running the gauntlet on the Bond films. Since I haven't seen an embarrassingly large number of the non-Brosnan 21 films, I'm starting from the first one and working my way through history. These Bond flicks in HD, along with more James Bond fun (here and here) will be my study prep for QOS. The following are the reports on each film, for those who don't have the time or those who liked SparkNotes in high school.

Goldfinger (1964) watched 10/28/08

PREMISE: In maybe the most classic Goldfinger, we join Bond on a trip to the good ole U-S of A, on a mission to prevent a break in at Fort Knox. But that is getting a bit ahead of ourselves. The film opens with Bond being Bond, a scene in which he blows up an enemy's silo, has a spotlight stealing entrance to the nearby bar, brings a bar hottie home, is attacked just before the big kiss, and ends up electrocuting his attacker (Post-kill line "Shocking, positively shocking"). Quite the renaissance man.

Bond's next stop is Miami where he is sent to gather intel on a potential (foreshadowing!!) enemy, a fat, red-headed, miserly-look fellow named Goldfinger. This must be perhaps the least intimidating bad guy in the history of good versus evil. We meet the obesely sinister gentleman as he is cheating an opponent in a game of Gin; this guy could be most people's Jewish grandfather, so it doesn't even seem fair he has to compete with 007. Then again in one scene Bond actually cant outdrive a group of Asians in a car chase... I find it hard to believe that in 1964, this was the stereotype that didn't exist.

Meanwhile, Goldfinger, like his farcical half-brother Goldmember, is obsessed with all things gold. Whether it be the gold painted woman or the gold bullion Bond offers him before a stellar exhibition of golf hustle that would make Tin Cup proud. Goldfinger marks the first time Bond truly gets his ride pimped. Q and the British Intelligence Agency hook Bond up with a tricked out Aston Martin (smoke screens, oil slicks, ejector seat!!). Bond becomes a prisoner and spends most of the mission working from the inside in preventing the Fort Knox devastation.

THE BOND GIRL:

Two words: Pussy Galore. That's her name and she is a new breed of Bond girl. Pussy, is Goldfinger's personal pilot, and a part of his Knox plans in the form of a golden shower, literally. Pussy is a more modern woman than previous Bond girls and thus harder for Bond to manipulate. In fact, Bond barely gets a roll in hay (again literally) with Pussy before the final shootout.

Bond girl version three has many of the modern upgrades on the second protocol including better looks, stronger personality, and the fact that in the end she ends up saving the day. She kind of even looks like someone who could be a hot friend of your mom. Pussy Galore will probably go down more as a punchline in history than anything else, however, I give her a double-0-seven out of ten.

WHAT TO TAKE AWAY:

Goldfinger is clearly a classic Bond and it lives up to the hype. It comes with a quickly paced plot and a more complex scheme than its predecessors. It also is different from the other two because its the first time James Bond really needs someone else to stop the henchman, as Pussy Galore comes to the rescue. While Bond continues to grow in stature and in legend, Ian Fleming perhaps has begun to suggest that Bond can't always do it alone. If for no other reason, see Goldfinger so that you start to get all of the everyday references to the film that previously flew over your head.

Bond: From Russia With Love

Quantum of Solace debuts this month and to prepare for the occasion, and thanks to the help of Comcast Cable On Demand (note: I will NEVER thank Comcast for anything else EVER) I am planning on running the gauntlet on the Bond films. Since I haven't seen an embarrassingly large number of the non-Brosnan 21 films, I'm starting from the first one and working my way through history. These Bond flicks in HD, along with more James Bond fun (here and here) will be my study prep for QOS. The following are the reports on each film, for those who don't have the time or those who liked SparkNotes in high school.

FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE (1963) watched 10/27/08

PREMISE:

Bond strangled in a garden!? Secret notes in a chess match!? Gypsy fights!? Welcome to From Russia With Love, Ian Fleming's follow up to Dr. No. In this second installment Bond is sent to Istanbul into a known trap, to recover a Russian decoding machine for the Brits. Bond, skeptical at first, sees a photo of his mark (and eventual Bond Girl) and its lust at first sight, so much so that he accepts the perilous mission. And you know the rest, more near-misses in gun fights, narrowly avoiding a venom spiked shoe, and the old bait and switch with a drugged glass of wine. The best moment in terms of action, and maybe most improbable, is Bond's sniper-like shot of a man holding a grenade in a helicopter, which explodes the entire vehicle. Awesome.

This time around Bond is spied on by a man with a diabolical mustache and a sketchy shoeshine, further proof that Bond cannot get to an airport without being followed. FRWL is the first film where 007 is given an arsenal of gadgets; he's equipped with a briefcase that stores Russian gold coins, a throwing knife, ammo, and tear-gas security device. Bond is also armed with the same double entendres, and witty post-kill one liners at his disposal ("She should have kept her moth shut")

Otherwise its more of the same from during Bond's mission: smooth talking his way through interviews, sexing up potential enemies, and something between karate chopping and pistol whipping the bad guys. Bond is like a bad-ass Don Draper: He rolls in style with grey suits and fedoras, and pleases ladies in every city he visits (one in a canoe in London, two in a gypsy camp outside Istanbul, and one other throughout the movie).

THE BOND GIRL:

Our first look at Bond in FRWL is in a canoe with that post-sex glow, clearly no longer involved with Honey Ryder (a single tiny tear runs down my cheek). Canoe girl isn't the Bond girl, but we eventually meet the new Bond girl. She is drastically different this time, Tatiana Romanova, a Russian spy, who we know is part of the sceme against our hero. She is obviously attractive but packs neither the sex appeal nor the naive innocence of Honey Ryder. Maybe its a tough act to follow or maybe she really is just a huge step down, a sophomore slump, if you will.

Tatiana goes through a metamorphasis when the double-crossing begins, and there is never a "wow" moment with her. Like the first Bond girl, Tatiana is a thorn in the side of Bond's plans, but worse, she is whiny and pretty useless, considering she is an agent herself. Plus, that Russian accent isn't helping anyone either. I give her a double-0-five out of ten.

WHAT TO TAKE AWAY:

I didn't like FRWL as much as DN but it was a nice transition from Bond the detective to Bond the spy. Bond gets more toys and gadgets and gets his hands dirtier before the final climax (speaking of climaxes, Bond sleeps with three more girls this time around, bringing the total count up to 6 in two movies). Bond has more pop to his punches and more swagger to his step. The evolution from British agent to international spy and womanizer has clearly begun.

Bond: Dr. No

Most people have pegged November 4th as the most important day of the month and potentially in recent history. This would be something if Obama hadn't already wrapped things up, so I am looking forward, all the way forward to the next most important day in November, the 14th. On Friday the 14th, the United States of Barack will witness the unveiling of a real political hero, this one British, Mr. James Bond.

Quantum of Solace debuts this month and to prepare for the occasion, and thanks to the help of Comcast Cable On Demand (note: I will NEVER thank Comcast for anything else EVER) I am planning on running the gauntlet on the Bond films. Since I haven't seen an embarrassingly large number of the non-Brosnan 21 films, I'm starting from the first one and working my way through history. These Bond flicks in HD, along with more James Bond fun (here and here) will be my study prep for QOS. The following are the reports on each film, for those who don't have the time or those who liked SparkNotes in high school.



DR. NO (1962) watched 10/26/08

PREMISE:
Bond investigates a set of murders of British agents on the island of Jamaica. We meet Mr. Bond at a card table in England, winning hands, seducing women, and sexually harassing (in the cool way!) his secretary. Bond is clearly established as he is followed around by sketchy guy hiding behind newspaper at the airport, and tailed by a suspicious Hispanic driver in Jamaica.

Sean Connery as Bond is a weird image, since Connery exists in my head as Darrell Hammond on Saturday Night Live's Celebrity Jeopardy. This Connery is young, ripped, and has an admirable amount of chest hair. Dr. No treats to us 1960's delicacies such as those awesomely fake backgrounds during driving scenes, lame post-kill punchlines like "I think they were on their way to a funeral," and a lack of cool Bond gadgets we've come to expect. Connery is given a new gun and silencer before his trip to Jamaica and at one point uses the old hair-on-the-door-frame trick to check the security of his hotel room.

Bond comes across more as a womanizer (gets his first of three lays nine minutes in) and detective, than a true spy, in this first chapter. The movie follows him as he tracks down the suspects and narrowly escapes CERTAIN DEATH, and by certain death a mean a planted tarantula in his bed, a sniper near miss, and a car chase on a cliff. Except for a three minute vent escape late in the film, there aren't many lulls.

THE BOND GIRL:

Ursula Andress played Honey Ryder, a sweet and innocent sea-shell searcher on Dr. No's Crab Key (Sound FX: spooky piano chord). Crab Key is like a mix between the Others' hideout on LOST and Bowser's Castle, if they existed during the Cold War. Our hero meets Honey Ryder on his Jamaican justice odyssey. It's the cliched story of love: she gets in the way and sets the radar off, he saves her from the potentially exploding missile factory, and the two end up creating their own happy ending in a rowboat.

Here's what you need to know, Honey Ryder is a ridiculously gorgeous, easily corruptible groupie. She is everything that is right about Bond girls: she is ludiciously hot (don't know if I mentioned that yet), doesn't steal his spotlight, and has that sneaky bed-hopping candor. She is definitely worth risking life and limb for and I would give her a double-0-nine out of ten.

WHAT TO TAKE AWAY:

Chapter one was overall a real winner. Bond is set up as a real hero to the audience. There is little he can't talk, fight, or drive his way out of. Women, like the villains are no match for 007's slick and sly ways. For a first time watcher, there are many familiar scenes and motifs thanks to the Austin Powers trilogy. Its not a masterpiece, but its a strong start for the Bond series.

Fearless-er Predictions After Week 7

So the last time I tried this, there were some bulls eyes and some train wrecks, leaving me to believe I was meant to do this again in week seven. Today I bring you the updated, accurate, clairvoyant, and likely to be revised in a few more weeks, team breakdowns. Lets start at the top:

MAIN COURSES: Cowboys, Giants, Steelers, Bills, Titans

Cowboys- Maybe Jerry Jones and I are alone in this, but these guys have too much talent not to be relevant in January.

Giants- They don't seem scary, but they kinda are; Eli doesn't seem good, but he kinda is.

Steelers- Surviving injuries and barely escaping games early and with their next four games being tough, they could find themselves a couple catergories lower next go-around.

Bills- Poor man's Titans (see Titans below) in an ACL-ripped division.

Titans- The best running game and the best defense in the league makes you forget the fossil standing under center.

THE SCRAPPY: Eagles, Packers, Jaguars, Bears, Cardinals, Bucs, Panthers

Eagles- They alternate showing up and not showing up, but had a bye week to straighten it out.

Packers- Can't count out a team in Lambau with a studly, bruising defense, just like you can't count out a petty former Packers quarterback dominating the headlines.

Jaguars- Really not deserving of faith, but they'll cakewalk through five of the next six weeks.

Bears- Another team with a "good enough" QB, a strong defense, and a crappy division.

Cardinals- Larry Fitzgerald is the best receiver in the league, and the only one who doesn't whine.

Bucs- Their defense is so manly, it makes up for their quarterback's not-so-manliness (just kidding he's got a much much hotter wife than anyone in the NFL, Tom Brady included).

Panthers- Maybe the most well rounded team in the claustrophobic NFC South.

SO YOU'RE SAYING THERE'S A CHANCE: Colts, Broncos, Patriots, Chargers, Ravens, Saints, Redskins, Falcons

Colts- I can't figure out if the Colts will make the playoffs, but you don't your team to play them there.

Broncos- Not a resume I would want to bring to a job interview.

Patriots- Don't be down about the Rodney Harrison injury; he was about as an effective safety option as Bristol Palin's birth control.

Chargers- Someone needs to tell them that this isn't study hall, they MUST show up every week.

Ravens- Impressive rebound from last year but they can't beat good teams.

Saints- A true enigma week in and out, they win and lose in baffling fashion.

Redskins- Most people don't value them this low, but most people don't have to trough through their games every week on TV.

Falcons- Ryan, Turner, Smith and other the other generic last name new editions are righting the Vick-Ship.

THE SCRAP HEAPS: Browns, Vikings, Jets, Texans, Seahawks, Dolphins

Browns- Like everyone else, they should just blame it on the economic crisis.

Vikings- Too many players on the team who aren't Adrian Peterson.

Jets- When you put an ugly girl in a pretty dress it doesn't change her from being an ugly girl.

Texans- Its my opinion that Gary Kubiak should be the next coach to go; Texans have too much talent to support the way they play.

Seahawks- Superbowl runners-up two years ago, a playoff win last year, and now one win in seven weeks; this team is needs a Red Bull or something.

Dolphins- That wildcat formation is too gimmicky to take seriously, yet keeps them above the stink.

PLAYING FOR A DRAFT PICK: Bengals, Raiders, 49ers, Chiefs, Lions, Rams

Bengals- A joke I heard- "The Bengals are like possums, they play dead at home and get killed on the road."

Raiders- Al Davis goes through head coaches like fantasy football owners go through kickers.

49ers- Another year where I wish the Patriots owned the rights to the 49ers lottery pick.

Chiefs- LJ spits in a woman's face, Tony Gonzalez DOES ask to be traded; nothing goes right in KC.

Rams- Just assuming Jim Haslett's 2-0 record is a modern day example of beginners' luck.

Lions- Since the Dolphins couldn't go 0-16 last year, these Lions could be the chosen ones.

Not Meant to Be

So that happened. A Mark Kotsay (questionable) strikeout, a Jason Varitek (horribly ugly) strikeout, and a Jed Lowrie sharp grounder to second marked the end of an ultimately doomed post-season run. Kinda fitting when you think about it too, because it was an unbelievably feeble lineup that marked the beginning of the end for them.

And its weird. I'm not that upset, I'm more just disappointed; I feel like my parents giving me the old high school lecture. "I expected more from you, and have realized maybe I just had too high expectations." The truth is these Red Sox hit their peak a few weeks ago, and sadly were not a championship club as currently comprised.

The biggest thing I can see looking at the team, from a step back now that the season is over, is that this team was worse than last year's team. The pitching might have been a wash, but the Sox lineup was a PG version of last year's R-Rated monster.

This watered down version was without Manny Ramirez, Mike Lowell, and one wrist of David Ortiz, or the Big Recession. Jason Varitek got worse, Jacoby Ellsbury ended up buried on the bench, and Jed Lowrie showed his cold feet. The weight of the team lay on the shoulders of just a few hitters and that doesn't cut it in crunch time. On the bright side, the playoffs gave me the idea for my Jason Varitek Roadkill Halloween costume.

It wasn't a sad ending, it wasn't a pitiful whimper into oblivion, it wasn't a heartbreak; all things it looked like it might be at one point. Goodbye is never a fun word and losing never get easy, even if you are a Clippers fan, but the Sox demise won't haunt me the way others have (2003!, 2005, 2006 recently). Plus now I have time to catch up on my Steve Harvey Show DVDs.

But when you look back at the season you can feel assured that Youkilis, Pedroia, Lester, Masterson, Dice-K, and Jason Bay all took the metaphorical next step. With them back and a hopefully re-tooled Buchholz and Lugo, a better fitting Kotsay, a healthier Lowell and Ortiz, and a maturer Ellsbury, this team can certainly wreak havoc. Lets just hope its not our our havoc that's wreaked.

The 2008 Red Sox Hostage Crisis

Look, I'm not saying that the ALCS is over, and I'm not saying I dont like Terry Francona but right now he has kidnapped the 2008 Boston Red Sox. The way he has managed the first three games makes me think he took the Rays in five, in the office pool. Now I know that Beckett's fastballs had less movement the last few weeks than John McCain's arms, that David Ortiz should be nicknamed Big Pop Up, and that it seems like Jason Varitek had to give up all of his talent in the divorce, but I think this all begins and ends with the skipper.

Usually, if Tito had kidnapped the Red Sox, he would leave a list of demands, but I've seen enough hostage movies to know that the negotiator must take charge, and the following are my list of demands to Francona, along with a message that if he just complies, this can all turn out just fine.

1) We can never bat Alex Cora and Jason Varitek next to each other in the lineup. No way, no how they are the ultimate rally killer, and like Jonah Hill says of McLovin, the anti-poon. These two are essentially automatic outs, like when girls get up to bat in summer beer softball. Varitek's superlatives all come in past tense form, and what can anyone say about Alex Cora except that he will one day make a good manager? Maybe that day should come sooner than we all think.

2) Take Mike Timlin, walk him into the players parking lot, and run him over with JD Drew's All Star MVP Chevy Tahoe. Well maybe not that, but you get my drift. I love Timlin, I am grateful for Mike Timlin, but his tenure with the Red Sox this season should have ended with the regular season. Francona is always called a players manager and its obvious this is a feel good decision that isn't so feel good anymore.

3) Jon Lester should have been removed today in the fourth inning and slated to start game six. Everyone has bad games but why are we keeping him around to waste pitches today. This game screamed for a Paul Byrd innings eater. If Lester had stayed under 60 pitches, he could have easily pitched on short rest in game 6. Not anymore, 96 pitches. Why?

4) Jacoby Ellsbury should be bunting, and not off his forehead. I don't know what his 0-fer streak is at right now but you gotta try anything you can to shake a slump. Ellsbury's repertoire of 300-foot flyballs helps no one. Put the ball on the ground Willie Mays Hayes or else get comfortable being a pinch runner.

5) Sometimes a sacrifice is an out worth giving up. Especially with most of our guys Ice Age cold right now, why can't we give up an out to move a runner up. I know that you don't change horses midstream and that we aren't a team that gives up outs but maybe you shake up the pot a little bit. Otherwise the only guys who are hitting (Pedroia, Bay, Kotsay) will stop seeing pitches all together.

6) Please refuse all mid-inning interviews. Unless contractually obligated, which would make no sense, please stop talking to Chip Carey and Buck Martinez mid-inning. You don't shed any light on any aspects of baseball and you do not help our team win by taking 5 minutes off, which I am pretty sure, is why we're all here. Plus those guys are atrocious at broadcasting games, a growing trend in baseball broadcasting.

7) Learn from past mistakes. In game One you left Dice-K in for the start of the eighth. Even though he had been spectacular, he was showing signs of fatigue, was way over pitch count, and was letting more guys to first base than the slutty girl at a sweet 16 party. Dice-K should've only seen the eighth inning from the dugout or locker room, with a bag of ice on his shoulder. We don't need another Grady Little situation, I won't see this team go down like that again. Trust your bullpen, which mostly has been exceptional in the past few weeks (for exception to rule, see demand 2).

Mr. Francona, please please let the team go. It's only 2-1 Rays, we've come back from more. No one wants to get hurt here and no one has to. If we work together we can make it all better. We're always told that baseball players need short memories in times of struggle, and we too can forgive and forget. You have a contract through 2011 so there will be no ransom paid, now GIVE ME BACK MY TEAM.

The Red Zone Channel

There are good days in the week and bad days, and then there are Sundays, most often the best days. Autumn Sundays are so good because they overcome things like hangovers and looming workdays to become the best days of the week. Today was no exception.

First there was that hangover, thanks to the Miller Lite pitchers duel between Davo and me during the lack of pitchers duel between Scott Kazmir and Josh Beckett.

Like Kazmir, and Beckett, we got bombed, but unlike them, we weren't removed in the fifth inning. Anyway, I pulled myself together enough to head out and watch the NFL games, but this Sunday would be like no other Sundays.

For this Sunday was my first experience with The Red Zone Channel (sound fx: Hallelujah Choir). Perhaps some of you have had the pleasure of RZC before, and maybe others of you are as unfamiliar with RZC as Jason Varitek is with playoff RBI's. Basically its an add-on premium to the DirecTV NFL package; a channel that brings you to whichever game is in the most interesting situation, and then flips when another game becomes relevant. No commercials, so we are spared 31 Frank TV ads and 24 renditions of Bon Jovi's I Love This Town, worth the price of admission alone (but then again you also wouldn't get to see this unbelievable David Fincher Nike Ad that was all over the place Sunday).

There's all sorts of other fun that comes with RZC. If two games are equally close to scoring you get splitscreen red-zone coverage. If four games are equally close, RZC gets Jack Bauer on you

and lights you up on four screens. Also if someone scores from outside of the red zone while you're tuned to a different game, they drop a "Packers/Seahawks Update Coming" graphic on screen, which opens the door to a guessing game of what could be coming. In that case, Charlie Frye pick-six is the safe bet, but the suspense is as much fun as the reveal.

Meanwhile as DirecTV flips you to a new game, you usually even score a sarcastic comment from RZC host Andrew Siciliano, usually a dig at Dan Orlovsky or whoever is trying to defend Andre Johnson (especially at 2:03 in the video). RZC is even a parlay-ers best friend (besides JT O'Sullivan in the fourth quarter, of course) as it flips you across the NFL nation without having to move a thumb.

We were lucky enough yesterday to have a two TV set up, which I would consider ideal. RedZone on the main screen with the best match-up on the deuce. Pair that with a couple PapaJohns pizzas, a leather couch, a room full of sports memorabilia, and five games decided on the last play and Sunday felt more like the weekend and less like the weekends end.