Sportsfrog.com

First, my apologies for this post not being a timely rebuttal to the post concerning the other side of this issue. I digress…

Sportsfrog.com used to have the tagline, “dissecting sports and media while battling a dirty gambling habit.” Trust me, I have the t-shirt. I guess it is now my turn to jump into the media dissection pool.

Not only has TMZ not made inroads into “sports coverage,” they are not “covering sports” at all. They are taking the elements of what makes gossip appealing to their audience and widening the net of people who fall into that arena.

The two stories Brontoburglar cited that TMZ reported ahead of the mainstream media were the death of Angels’ pitcher Nick Adenhart and the Tiger Woods car accident. However, both stories involve the “sin” aspects that make news or gossip, respectively. In Adenhart’s case, it is his death, as evidenced particularly well by the newsroom cliché “if it bleeds, it leads,” and in Woods’ case, sex (just like how Alex Rodriguez previously made gossip sheets for being spotted with a woman who was not his wife). If Woods had been in the exact same car accident without the prior reports of his infidelity, would TMZ have been beating down doors to get information? I think not.

Saying TMZ is showing “legitimate newsgathering chops” loses all credibility when, in the next paragraph, it is cited that TMZ pays for scoops. People who know they will not be named as sources have no reason to be honest. Think about this for a second. If some gossip outlet came to you, asked if you had any information about a person you did not actually know (or maybe even knew, but did not like) and offered a substantial amount of money for that information plus a guarantee of anonymity, what reason would you have to not make something up? Before you say, “well, I wouldn’t do that, I have no reason to lie,” you should probably consider if that is true when there is a check made out to you valued at $10,000 ready to be put in your hand. How about $25,000? $50,000? Really? No one knows you’re the person making these statements. You have nothing to lose and a lot to gain. Think about the current state of the human race for a little while if you still think honesty matters in the face of money.

I also have a different answer to this question and answer posed in the other post:

“Was the reluctance to use TMZ information in newspaper stories more related to fears that it wasn’t factually correct, or the fact that it came from TMZ? I lean strongly towards the latter.”

Reluctance to use TMZ information in a newspaper story is due to fears that it is factually incorrect because it came from TMZ. TMZ is a source for gossip, not news. A newspaper that reports false information risks losing the trust of its readership, not to mention the threat of lawsuit. The reporting of “facts” without confirmation is a huge sin in the world of news reporting. It is called independent confirmation.

I doubt readers care about how the information is gathered or who reports it as long as the outlet reporting the news is trustworthy. Then again, looking at the political climate in our country, maybe this is not the case.

The Tiger Woods Thing marks the second time that TMZ has absolutely destroyed mainstream media outlets when it comes to a major off the field incident (car crash) with an athlete.

Think that the MSM is happy about that?

While TMZ isn’t infallible, they’ve got a pretty impressive string of exclusives before other gossip magazines/sites/mainstream outlets have gotten them, (Rihanna immediately comes to mind) and has definitely become more influential than Deadspin when it comes to actual news that includes athletes off of the field.

While Deadspin specializes in who’s doing and drinking with whom, something that TMZ is very good at as well when it comes to the Hollywood set, TMZ has shown legitimate newsgathering chops when it comes to both Nick Adenhart and Tiger Woods. (Was the reluctance to use TMZ information in newspaper stories more related to fears that it wasn’t factually correct, or the fact that it came from TMZ? I lean strongly towards the latter)

Of course, that has everything to do with how TMZ gets its information. It’s a well known secret that TMZ pays for scoops, and that’s a definite no-no in the mainstream media world. The money puts TMZ at an obvious advantage, because why tell your information for free when you can tell your information for pay?

And do readers actually care about how their news outlets receive their information, as long as the information is getting out as soon as possible, and to a lesser extent, factually correct?

I’m not suggesting that mainstream media outlets need to start paying sources for information, because I think that opens a giant can of worms, and at the very least, would decrease the number of free information sources available to the general public. However, given the way that TMZ has beaten down the MSM with their scoops in regards to these two stories, the celebrity gossip site has definitely asserted itself as a force to be reckoned with when athletes make news off of the playing field.

Is TMZ really changing sports coverage? Let us know in the Swamp.

(This post assumes that TMZ’s coverage of the Tiger Woods situation has been accurate. If it isn’t, I reserve every right to retract my post.)

I’m not even going to search the ‘nets for a token picture of Simmons to place here. I’m just going to go in. Like a rapper. Can I get a rap monologue? Yo Young Jeezy, hit me with a rapologue!!!

Yo dog what up this Young Jeezy ya hear Snowman Mr. 17-5 in the building

We got SL22, Sportsfrog, Front page, post is about Bill Simmons, it’s about this article – SL22 my dog GO IN

Thanks, Jeezy. You my dog. Let’s do this FJM style…Simmons in bold, me in 10-pt TRUTHFONT. I apologize for the fucks and swears:

In baseball, statistics permeate every aspect of the game. And they should. It’s an individual sport. You are on your own. If a major league team hired a computer programmer to build a GM program over hiring an actual human being, the GM program probably wouldn’t embarrass itself. It would be like the auto-pilot option in a fantasy draft. The computer believes we need a higher OBP guy who takes a ton of pitches, and it believes we can sacrifice above-average defense in an outfield spot. It recommends that we pursue Bobby Abreu. Do you even need to watch baseball anymore to have an educated opinion? It’s unclear.

Ok.

In football? Statistics can help. Absolutely. But you still need to watch games to have an educated opinion. After my beloved Pats** threw away Sunday’s Colts game with one unnecessarily dangerous decision, my educated opinion was this: “That’s the second dumbest thing I have ever seen any Boston team do.” It trumped Darrell Johnson pitching Jim Burton in Game 7 of the 1975 World Series. It trumped KC Jones playing Fred Roberts over Reggie Lewis for the entire 1988 playoffs. It trumped Raymond Berry starting Tony Eason in Super Bowl XX. It trumped everything except Grady/Pedro in 2003.

Not sure what he just said but ok.

At the time, I remember watching the Pats** line up — fourth-and-2, up six, 123 seconds to play, own 28-yard line — and thinking, “It’s OK, they’re trying to get the Colts to freak out and burn their last timeout.” Then, they snapped the ball. Huh? Kevin Faulk hauled in a pass on the 30.3-yard line. It was spotted at the 29. These are the things that happen when you double on a 12 against a six because you believe — fervently — that a slew of non-face cards are coming. You might be right, but you shouldn’t do it.

Of course you should. If you are playing blackjack you should be doing nothing BUT playing the odds. Doubling down when you have an edge is pretty much your only advantage.

Colts ball. You know the rest.

Meaningless. Hindsight, 20/20 and all that.

I spent the next 15 minutes in a surreal state: part anger, part confusion, and part “What the eff just happened?” The good news? I finally understood how Eagles fans felt rooting for a team helmed by Andy Reid. When your coach lets you down with a decision that makes no sense, it’s like riding in the passenger seat of a friend’s car and helplessly watching as he plows over a pedestrian in a crosswalk.

No it’s not. At all.

Wait, what just happened? Didn’t we hit that guy? I could swear we just hit that guy. (Everything slowly starts registering.) Wait, we have to go back!!!! GO BACK! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GO BACK!!!! WE HIT THAT GUY!

I’ve never hit a pedestrian but I’m sure that’s not how it works.

That’s the thing: There’s no going back. I always thought we were in good hands, especially in close games, thanks to an incredibly prepared coach with a knack for making shrewd moves at the right times. Can we say that anymore? The Pats** have five monster defeats since winning Super Bowl XXXIX — 2005 (Denver, playoffs); 2006 (Indy, AFC title game); 2007 (Giants, Super Bowl XLII); 2008 (Indy, regular season); 2009 (Indy, regular season) — in which they self-destructed in decidedly unBelichickian ways. Five years of bad luck and bullet-ridden shoes are starting to add up. So are the soul-crushing last-minute drives by other teams.

Belichick did not throw the pick to Champ Bailey in Denver. He did not drop those passes thrown to Reche Caldwell in 2006. He did not drop Asante Samuel’s INT in 2007. The rest, whatevs. Not Belichick’s fault for most of that.

Did I throw my remote control on Sunday night? Of course I did. Did it break? Sadly, not the way I wanted. Did it feel good? Not really. I walked my dog, did some robo-sulking and went to sleep believing I would wake up with a nation of football fans who agreed that, yes, the fourth-and-2 call was one of the dumbest in recent sports history. When my editor e-mailed me asking whether I planned to write a column about it, I thought to myself, “Column? About that? What would the angle be? Should I interview the remote control I broke?”

Well, you are the authority on all things retarded.

There was no angle other than “What the f— was Belichick thinking?” None. Or so I thought.

Oh my God, people might disagree with me? NO CHANCE!

See, I never expected that fourth-and-2 call to turn into a lively sports debate. And I certainly never expected statistics to back up what seemed to be an unforgivable decision. The numbers were crunched by a variety of people, including ESPN’s own Alok Pattani, who reported the win probability variables for all three scenarios on fourth-and-2.

I can’t believe people would actually analyze this decision! And think about it! Including a guy from ESPN, a place that is dedicated by its nature to doing things like this!

Scenario A (if the Pats** converted): “The Pats**’ average win probability [was] 92 percent.” Before Sunday night, “the league average going for it on fourth-and-2 over the past two seasons [was] 55.7 percent (49-for-88).” Scenario B (if they failed to convert): “[Colts ball] on roughly the New England 29-yard line with 2 minutes to go. The Pats**’ win probability in this situation would be 66 percent.” (Important note: If you were sitting next to a bookie after the Pats** blew fourth-and-2, and that bookie said to you, “The odds of the Colts winning here are 34 percent; I will give you 3-1 odds that they score,” would you have taken that wager in a millisecond or a kajillasecond? I think we can throw that number out. Whatever.)

No. We can’t just “throw out” numbers because we don’t agree with them. What the fuck is that? This is reasonable, convincing stuff? Why can’t we throw out the stats that say they might not score from their own 30? They had just done so like a kajillasecond earlier!

Scenario C (if they punted): “Using Pats** punter Chris Hanson’s average of 44 net yards per punt in the game, the Colts would have gotten the ball at the Indianapolis 28. The Pats**’ win probability in this situation would be 79 percent.” Combine all these variables and what do we have? According to a formula called “Expected Win Probability When Going For It,” Pattani believed that the Pats** had an 80.5 chance of winning the game. By punting, they had a 79.0 chance of winning. So my argument (made on Monday’s podcast) that Bill Belichick should have “played the percentages and punted” was technically wrong. Barely. Belichick did play the percentages if you took those percentages at face value.

Anddddd you still don’t see how people could have differing opinions on this?

I am not disputing the numbers or the methods for achieving them. But by Monday night, based on various columns and message boards (as well as e-mails to my reader mailbox), you would have thought Belichick was a genius for blowing the game. He played the percentages! It wasn’t as crazy as it looked! By this logic, Belichick also should have held a loaded pistol to his head on the sideline, spun the chamber and tried to shoot himself like Chris Walken in “The Deer Hunter.” If those 1-in-6 odds came through and he succeeded, we could have said, “Hey, he played the percentages! 83.6666 percent of the time, you don’t die in that situation! You can’t blame him for what happened!”

You fucking idiot. Not the first mention of this I’ve seen. In fact, this is the only reason I’m wasting my time doing this. What do you win if you win the Russian Roulette game?

Here are the odds that come to play here:

PLAY RUSSIAN ROULETTE: 1/6 chance of dying

DO NOT PLAY RUSSIAN ROULETTE: No chance of dying

The odds say DO NOT PLAY RUSSIAN ROULETTE YOU FUCKING MORON! Jeez. If the choice was between playing Russian Roulette and, say, fighting a live puma, or maybe even getting a billion dollars if you win, things may change a bit. But if all you get is the satisfaction of winning the Russian Roulette game then…why am I even bothering? Anybody with sense can see that this is retarded.

Which brings us back to statistics. Yes, they enhance the discussion. Many times. (FYI: The “to punt or not to punt” numbers, in general, are interesting. You can make a strong case that good offenses should almost always go for it on fourth-and-short beyond their own 40.) There are also times when statistics make that same discussion dumber. For instance, a former Mavericks statistician named Wayne Winston recently debuted a complicated plus-minus statistic for basketball that included the following two revelations: 1. Kevin Durant made the 2008-09 Zombie Sonics worse. 2. Tim Thomas is underrated. (Deep breath.)

I don’t follow the NBA but go on.

I don’t want to get into my thoughts about plus-minus data and all the inherent problems with it. Some other time. We’ll ignore the Durant lunacy for now. But to argue, insinuate or even blink that Tim Thomas is underrated — by any metric — cannot be allowed.

Ok.

Forget statistics; here are hard-core facts. Thomas mailed in five years of a six-year deal in Milwaukee and Chicago, tried hard for four months in Phoenix, roped the Clippers into another four-year deal, then went on cruise control again. You know how I know this? I went to the effing games. I watched Thomas jog up and down for 48 minutes with the intensity of a drive-through attendant. I watched him stare at JumboTrons during timeouts like a stoned college student gazing into a fish tank. I watched one game in which I was convinced he had made a bet with someone that he could play four quarters without ever crossing either 3-point line. He sucked defensively, made no effort to connect with teammates, reacted to loose balls as if he was allergic to them and took ill-advised shots at the worst possible times. The losing bounced off him like a racquetball. Two years into his contract, I nicknamed him “The Thief” because he was basically stealing from the Clippers. If you’re creating a formula that determines Tim Thomas is underrated, the thesis has to be this: “You might think Tim Thomas is totally useless and a one-man swine flu for how he infects a team spiritually and psychologically, but actually, he’s only 96.7 percent useless, and here’s why.” That, I would accept. Anything else? I cannot accept unless it’s offered with the caveat, “As soon as my formula told me that Tim Thomas was underrated, I erased that formula from my hard drive, then set my computer on fire with a blowtorch.”

His 96.7 percent thing was what I was going to get at here.

The “Belichick made the right move” argument was nearly as dense. In the biggest game of the regular season, when a football coach tries something that — and this is coming from someone who watches 12 hours of football every Sunday dating back to elementary school — I cannot remember another team doing on the road in the last three minutes of a close game, that’s not “gutsy.” It’s not a “gamble.” It’s not “believing we can get that 2 yards.” It’s not “revolutionary.” It’s not “statistically smart.” It’s reckless. It’s something that should happen in video games only, and only when you and your roommate are both high.

Yes. Only play the odds when you are high. I can’t remember another team doing th….oh, wait. As I’ve said before, Spurrier did the same thing a few years ago, converted and won the game because of it. Ignore that, though. Don’t take it at face value.

Again, this wasn’t a blackjack-type situation in which you can have a computer break down those fourth-and-2 variables a katrillion times, then break down the percentages definitively. Let’s examine every possible defense of that decision.

That seems quite excessive when some simple math will probably give you blackjack odds.

Insane Angle No. 1: “Statistically, it was the right move.” So we’re saying 55.7 percent, huh? That’s the success rate for a road team playing its biggest rival, in a deafeningly loud dome, coming out of a timeout — a timeout that allowed the defense to get a breather and determine exactly how to stop the obvious five-receiver spread that was coming because the offense’s running game sucked — along with that same defense getting extra fired up because it was being disrespected so egregiously/willfully/blatantly/incomprehensibly. I say lower. By a lot.

Oh, God. I hate this line of thinking. This is why I argue with so many people here. What’s the defensive success rate against THEIR biggest rival? What did Dwight Freeney’s eyes look like? What’s the rate in Indiana? Did you know they don’t do daylight savings time? So, could the offense be like, an hour behind? WHY THE FUCK DOES THAT MATTER?

Deafeningly loud dome? You don’t follow the NFL, do you?

http://profootballtalk.nbcsports.com/2009/11/11/lucas-oil-stadium/

It’s not even deafening if you are Helen Keller.

And the strategy that the defense came up with? “Make sure the RB bobbles the ball and gets a questionable spot”. Brilliant. Yinz guys sure Dungy never left? While Belichick and Brady were busy using that timeout to discuss the political ramifications of the fraudulent elections in Iran, the Colts defense was gameplanning!!!!!!1

Statistics can’t capture the uniqueness of a particular moment, and in this case — with the Pats** self-combusting, with a sure victory suddenly slipping away, with the crowd going bonkers, with a fired-up defense gearing up to stop them, with an obvious play looming (a short pass), and with everything happening during a drive that was already so disjointed that they had called two timeouts — I find it really, really, REALLY hard to believe they would have completed that play 56 times out of 100 with how they lined up. They spread the field with five receivers, eliminating any chance of a run. The Colts brought pressure — happily — ensuring a quick pass and a short field (so Indy’s D-backs could hug the line of scrimmage). Given these realities, if you’re feeding me “Here’s what happened in this situation historically” numbers, shouldn’t we be looking at the data for two-point conversions?

No. You think it’s easy to cover five wides AND bring a fuckton of pressure? That’s how a guy like Tom Brady kills you. He will carve that the fuck up. He has been doing it for his entire career.

A sure victory? It was fourth down, they were up by 6 against the Colts with 2 minutes left. That’s not sure. That’s unsure. Put your arms down.

After all, this was essentially a two-point pass play. The Pats** went five wide, stuck Tom Brady in the shotgun, shortened the field and tried to find a quick-hit mismatch. Sure sounds like a two-point play. So what’s the recent history of teams passing for a two-point conversion on the road? Peter Newmann from ESPN Research crunched those numbers for me. 2009: 9-for-28, .321 (overall); 3-for-10, .300 (road). 2008: 23-for-52, .442 (overall); 13-for-32, .406 (road). 2007: 14-for-38, .368 (overall); 6-for-23, .261 (road).

Just cherry-pick the stats that you like. What’s the success rate for the Patriots? The Panthers looked great spreading the field and hitting the quick mismatch last night to…wait. They handed off to Deangelo Williams. But they were at home! And not in a dome against their biggest rival! And their OT got a personal foul penalty after the play! That’s showing fire and emotion!

Yikes. In the past two and a half years, road teams successfully executed two-point passes 22 of 65 times (34 percent). Admittedly, the Pats** have a better passing offense than just about anyone; they also were throwing the ball effectively against Indy’s battered secondary. Which is what made that specific decision so frustrating: By not showing even a threat of a run, they eliminated the possibilities of a draw, a play-action pass, a delayed screen, a designed rollout or anything else that would have made the Colts say, “We have to be prepared for anything here” and soften their coverage.

Fair enough. But this isn’t really a discussion about the playcall.

That decision unwittingly dropped New England’s odds for success to 1 in 3; by settling for a quick bam-bam pass, they also increased their own odds for a deflection, drop or bad spot. Statistically, it was a dumb choice. Their biggest assets on a fourth-and-2 were the field, the threat of Randy Moss going deep, the threat of a draw or a delayed screen, and the threat of a run. They ignored all four things. You cannot tell me the odds for success here were 55.7 percent for that specific formation at that specific moment in time. You cannot. Just stop.

No. I’m not going to stop because you told me so. I’m going to point out every single thing that’s wrong with your opinion, your presentation of your opinion, and the fact that you are a ghetto-black-trash thug and a terrible father.

The threat of Randy Moss going deep was still there. He can go deep from five-wide.

I will tell you that the chances are 55.7 percent. They failed mainly because they fucked up the execution. Not because the defense stopped them. Do they fail to execute more than 50 percent of the time? Jeez. Is Arians coaching that offense?

Also, passing is not more prone to a bad spot than running. Where in the fuck do you come up with that? He’s just throwing things against a wall and hoping that they stick.

This is why I hate Bill Simmons.

One other note: The “disrespecting the defense” card doesn’t show up in stats. There’s no way to measure the collective ability of a defense to raise its game for one play, as the fans shout the team on with every ounce of air in their lungs, while being fueled by a legitimately mind-blowing slight. In postgame interviews, four Colts defensive starters mentioned the words “disrespect” or “disrespected.” And they were. We cannot account for this variable, just as we can’t account for the difference of trying a fourth-and-2 in a deafening dome over trying it at home against a lethargic Falcons teams in mid-September. I know it’s fun to think stats can settle everything, but they can’t, and they don’t.

And you told me to “just stop”. This is epic retarded drivel right here. The reason “disrespecting the defense” doesn’t show up in stats is because the entire premise is just completely asinine. Why can’t the offense raise its game for one play? Do they just not care? How is going for the win on a 4th and 2 play a mind-blowing slight? God, this hurts my face. I don’t give a fuck what the Colts defenders said after the game. I have gone over this numerous times. The disrespect card DOES NOTHING. Every player says it. NFL players say dumb things. Ben once said his foot was broken.

The only reason people think the disrespect card works is because you only hear about it after it has worked. No one says, “man, no one gave us a chance here. And they shouldn’t have, as we just got trounced”. It’s selection bias. I can’t argue this enough. And I think I have 800 times. People disrespected the Broncos and they responded by going out and losing to the fucking Redskins.

I know it’s fun to use intangibles and simply dismiss stats, but you can’t do that, either.

Insane Angle No. 2: “If they punted, Manning would have rolled down the field and scored, anyway.” Really? That’s what would have happened? He would have needed something between 65 and 72 yards, with one timeout and no help from a two-minute warning, against a relatively rested New England defense that was thin in the front four. The Colts had run only 22 plays in the second half; the Pats** had run 37. It’s true. And it’s not as if Indy’s passing game had been lighting it up. The young guys flubbed a few relatively easy catches during the game; on their drive to cut the lead from 34-21 to 34-28, the biggest play was a dubious 31-yard pass interference penalty. Of their previous seven drives, two ended in interceptions and three in punts, and two were six-play, 79-yard drives for touchdowns.

Don’t care. I think we can throw that out, because it’s Peyton Manning! He’s so clutch! Throw those stats out because I don’t agree with them!

Don’t forget to take into account that the Colts would have four downs to work with in the two-minute drill, though.

Put it this way: The Colts weren’t exactly on fire. Admittedly, I am terrified of Manning and have written as much. But Indy had already started and completed two long touchdown drives in the fourth quarter against a good defense. Had the Pats** punted, Indy would have had to pull off a third long touchdown drive to win the game. I asked Peter Newmann to research the number of times a team started and completed three touchdown drives in the fourth quarter to erase a double-digit deficit and win an NFL game since 2005. Here’s how the list looked before that fourth-and-2 call. 2005: 1 2006: 2 2007: 0 2008: 1 2009: 0

Doesn’t fucking matter. They only had to do it once.

I flipped a coin 5 times. It landed on heads 5 times. I asked Peter Newmann to research how often a coin lands on heads 6 times in a row.

He said 1.56% of the time. I rest my retarded case.

In 78 weeks of football dating back to 2005, it happened a whopping four times. Four! If you’re playing the statistics card, why not play that one? By punting, the Pats** would have been asking Peyton Manning to pull off something THAT DOESN’T HAPPEN EVEN ONCE EVERY EFFING SEASON. You’re damned right I just went all caps. Hold on, I have to repeatedly bang my head against my desk again.

God. You’re not being smart here. Two of the drives already happened. It’s irrelevant. It means nothing.

Can’t beat a team three times in one season!

(Ow.) (Damn!) (Ouch!) (Uh-oh, my left eye is starting to swell up like Brad’s after Darrell whupped his ass on “The Ruins” this week. Let’s keep going.)

I’m doing the same fucking thing as we speak.

Insane Angle No. 3: “I thought we could get the 2 yards.” That’s what Belichick said after the game. Look, I’m glad he felt this way. But isn’t life about resisting the urge to try something reckless just because you thought you could do it?

Yes. The other side of the argument is saying that it wasn’t really all too reckless.

For instance, I had to drive from Seattle to Portland on Wednesday morning. The following factors were in play: A. I like to drive fast, as you know. We were going to visit Nike, located in Beaverton, Ore., exactly 169 miles from our Seattle hotel. Our Nike connection made the mistake of telling me that it would take about three hours to get there. This was like telling the Colts defense, “We’re going for it on fourth-and-2.” My driving felt disrespected. I decided we could get there in two hours. Easy. My two friends with me (Lewis and House) were alternately terrified and excited by this proclamation. I didn’t care. Like Belichick, I thought I could do it.

The Patriots did not break any laws or endanger the welfare of others.

Nor are they as badass as you, Mr. Fastdriverguy!

B. I had just polished off a 20-ounce coffee from Tully’s — no Starbucks on this Seattle stop, in honor of all the Sonics fans who swore off Starbucks because Howard “The Traitor” Schultz sold the team to someone who obviously planned on moving it — and felt as if I had just done three rails of coke. I was wired and zoned in.

Uh, ok. Coffee is no coke. Trust me on this one.

C. I was driving a white Grand Marquis that looked like a car Big Pussy would have driven in Season 1 of “The Sopranos.” When am I ever going to drive a white Grand Marquis again? FLOOR THAT SUCKER!!!!

They have huge engines and get some pretty good speed. Wait, why am I even responding to this? My life is worthless.

D. Seattle loves me for defending its Sonics after Clay Bennett hijacked them and moved them elsewhere. If there was ever a place I could get out of a speeding ticket, it’s Seattle. Or so I thought.

Huh?

Anyway, I shot out of Seattle like a bat out of hell. We were weaving between lanes and going about 90. Twenty minutes into the drive, still in the outskirts of Seattle, we were arguing about why navigation systems don’t come with different voices — for example, we should be able to have Morgan Freeman be our nav narrator or, even better, Sam Jackson as Jules in “Pulp Fiction” (“I told you to take a motherf—ing right, you dumbass!) — and I stopped paying attention to things like “Is there a cop car behind me?” Which there was. He pulled us over, walked over to my driver’s side and somewhat angrily asked why I was going so fast. I explained that we were trying to get to Portland and apologized for my speed. He asked for my license and registration. Then we had this exchange:

You are a fucking millionaire. In a different state. Your risk was probably worth the reward when you calculated the odds real quick in your head. Hey, I’m rich, I like to drive fast…what’s $250 to me? The fuck, man. Stop arguing my point for me, Simmons.

Me (big smile): “Were you a big Sonics fan? Because-” Him (frowns): “No.” And he walked away with my license.

Belichick based his decision on actually football odds, not the odds that Jim Caldwell was a fucking Sonics fan.

Now, did I just have bad luck here? Yeah. A little. But I was also relying on two variables that weren’t certainties: One, that I’m good at sniffing out cops when I drive too fast, and two, that I’d be able to weasel my way out of any speeding ticket in Seattle. Both variables failed. I was reckless. And now, I owe $299 to the state of Washington for excessive speed and failure to signal while changing lanes.

So? Did you go through this scenario 100 times to find the actual true odds?

“I thought I wouldn’t get caught” is no different from “I thought we could get the 2 yards.” It’s just not. You either know or you don’t.

No it isn’t. Football is not a game of certainty. You are never sure you can do anything in football. There are far too many variables. The defense was playing in a frenzied dome!

Insane Angle No. 4: “The Pats** acted like men! They went for the kill! Had they converted that, they would have made a strong statement to everyone that they were back on top and everything was right with the world!” Stupid. Last time I checked, winning makes the strongest statement. As the great Herm Edwards once said, “The goal is to win the game. THE GOAL IS TO WIN THE GAME!” That’s really it. The Pats** dominated that entire game, played better football and deserved to win. And they lost.

The call was an attempt to win. You convert that play, you win. Simple. It’s a 4th and fucking 2. They didn’t fake punt from their own 3 while up by 10 points. Both point and counterpoint are stupid here.

The bigger issue: Let’s say they punt, then Indy rolls down the field and scores for the victory. We spend the next few days saying, “Wow, I can’t believe the Pats** blew that game, they had it, Manning is so great, holy crap.” Then the whole thing dies. This happens all the time in football. Every week, at least one team dominates a game but urinates it away. There are never significant aftereffects because it’s a long season and, really, those defeats can happen to everyone.

So you are basing your decision on media reaction? This is why Belichick is a better coach than you, Simmons.

But losing because you went for it on fourth-and-2 on your own 28? Much more damaging. The reward (of converting it) did not match the risk (the fallout from a demoralizing loss and a week’s worth of “What the hell happened?” questions, not to mention its impact on the team’s psyche). This week, the Pats** made a big stink about looking forward and not letting that defeat affect them. How can it not? How? Isn’t the impact much deeper than that of simply losing because Peyton Manning is great and he drove 70 yards to beat them? In the playoffs, when it’s life or death, maybe that risk is more defensible. In the regular season, when you’re building your team’s collective confidence like a bunch of Jenga sticks and can’t risk knocking the stack over? No.

Ugggghhhhhh. God damn it. God fucking damn it. Are these 12-year olds? Do you REALLY think they are going to be so demoralized that they will topple over like a fucking children’s block game? Have you played organized sports at any level, Sims?

It doesn’t work like that. After the first couple of plays, you forget everything. You forget that you are either much better or much worse than the other team and should wax them/get crushed. You forget that you didn’t get “pumped up” enough in the locker room before the game. You get the adrenaline right away just by playing the game.

And then afterwards, two days later, you focus on the next game regardless. First practice, the same thing that happened in the game happens. The scout team starts pretending to be fucking Carnegie Mellon or something, and you forget all of that fucking poetic disrespect/psyche/trust stuff.

Just … no.

Good point.

Insane Angle No. 5: “The decision might not have worked out, but still, it came from a well-thought-out place.” No, it didn’t. The Pats** were a mess for that entire drive. They called a timeout after a kickoff return because they had the wrong personnel on the field. HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN? (Sorry, my Caps Lock keeps sticking.) On first down — by the way, the best down to take a chance if you’re going to be reckless, simply because Indy had stacked the line and expected a run — they ran Faulk into the line for no gain. On second down, Brady hit Wes Welker on a nice out for 8 yards. On third down, the Colts brought the house and Welker screwed up — instead of cutting over the middle (totally empty), he cut right, and Brady hurried the throw (incomplete, and almost picked).

Since we fucked up there, we would certainly fuck up again on 4th. Welker ran the wrong route!

It was like when Holmes ran the wrong route against the Bengals and Ben threw that pick-six. Arians wisened up and said, “hey, we just fucked up in the pass, let’s not try to win this game in the air anymore…let’s run FWP into a brick wall for the rest of the game”.

If Belichick is so worried that his players are going to fuck up on the play, he needs to get some new players. These guys play in the NFL. They make millions of dollars to do this. Also, the Colts just scored on you twice in the fourth quarter. But we are going to ignore that part and dismiss it while at the same time prop up essentially the opposite viewpoint as gospel.

Fuck.

Let’s look at third down again. If Belichick knew at this point, “I am not punting the ball,” then they were in two-down territory. Liberating, because the Colts would have no idea it was two-down territory — because, again, it’s insane to go for it on fourth down there. But let’s say he did decide it was two-down territory. Wouldn’t he run the ball there (either by pounding it or with a delayed draw or just a draw) and knock it down to the two-minute warning whether he made a first down or not? Sure. Yes. Absolutely. Which makes me think that, to that point, Belichick still hadn’t decided on fourth down yet.

Fair enough and I made the same point yesterday but, it was 3rd and 2. They are a passing team. Maybe he thought they could throw for 2 yards. I don’t know.

On fourth down? Total confusion. Some offensive players were running off the field. Some punt team guys were coming on. Belichick wanted to go for it. Nobody knew what was going on. They had to burn another (and even more deadly) timeout, their second of the drive. That’s when Belichick stuck to his guns and went for it.

I don’t care if they punt team thought they were going to punt.

Did anything you just read suggest a team that was anything other than completely discombobulated? After the kick return and TV timeout, had Belichick told his team, “Look, I know this sounds crazy, but I don’t want to punt. We are in four-down territory. I can’t give Manning the ball back. He’s going to beat us. Let’s go with a four-play sequence here, and don’t screw this up” … I mean, at least then, I would have felt as if this was anything other than rash and poorly thought out.

I would have thought…”yeah. We can do this. We can get two yards and if we do, game’s over. I like the decision, coach”.

More than anything else, that’s why the Pats** lost. And that’s why it ended up feeling bigger than just a defeat. There is a larger pattern here. Remember in Game 6 of the 2009 World Series, when the Yanks and their crappy bullpen made it out of the seventh inning unscathed, and everyone in Yankee Stadium started celebrating because they knew they had just won the title? Why did they know this? Two words: Mariano Rivera. They knew he would take them home. They knew it. They were positive. And that’s exactly what he did.

Remember when Mariano Rivera blew the 2001 or whatever World Series against the Diamondbacks?

By the fourth year of the Brady/Belichick Era, Pats** fans felt the same way about their team in close games. We were money. We owned crunch time. We didn’t shoot ourselves in the foot. We didn’t take unnecessary risks. We thrived on making other teams beat themselves. We were reasonably aggressive but never dangerously so. We always had a plan. Our players were prepared for any conceivable situation. In a close game, Belichick, Brady and our defense would take us home. Every time.

Yeah. You were better back then. So was your defense.

Not Sunday night. The Pats** looked rattled and unprepared. The Colts did not. They do not keep statistics for this.

Because Peyton Manning would lead the league in “rattles”.

Did it feel like the end of an era? Yeah, a little. The truth is, Belichick is 57 years old. I doubt he’s banking those famous 19-hour work days anymore. I doubt he possesses the same hunger that fueled him when he was trying to escape Bill Parcells’ shadow and make a name for himself. Everything is gravy for him at this point. His place in history is secure.

Fair point but don’t think it had any effect on this call. Would spry, young 55-year old Belichick have done it? Who knows.

Career security can be damaging in one of two ways: either you stop taking chances, or you feel emboldened and start taking too many of them. Belichick’s recent history shows that he would rather roll the dice than do something conventionally. He made so many trades in the draft this past April that I can’t even remember where we ended up picking. Right before the season, with the Pats** picked by many as the clear Super Bowl favorite, he dealt one of his defensive pillars (Richard Seymour) to Oakland for a future No. 1 pick. On Sunday night, he went for the jugular in Indianapolis when the situation demanded prudence.

I disagree completely. The decision was fine. It was defensible.

Were these events connected? I can’t tell. Statistics can’t help us here. Bill Belichick might just be a coach who climbed the mountain a few times, then decided he needed to cement his legacy by being the ballsiest football coach any of us have ever seen. If that’s true, he failed Sunday night. This Sunday, he might succeed. He keeps plowing ahead. Either way, he remains the most fascinating coach in professional football — something that hasn’t changed since 2001, by the way — and I remain thankful that he runs my favorite team. Give me Belichick with a few miles off his fastball over just about anyone else. Just don’t tell me this Sunday night didn’t mean … something. In the aforementioned Game 6, I remember watching those Yankees fans celebrating after the seventh and thinking, “There is absolutely nobody in my sports fan life that makes me feel as secure as those Yankee fans feel with Rivera right now.” I used to feel that way about the Pats**. I did. And now we’re here.

That has nothing to do with anything.

Bill Belichick doesn’t give a fuck about your gut feelings, Simmons.

My point is not that this absolutely was the right or wrong decision. My point is that it is defensible, regardless of what you think, Simmons.

Long-time readers of the Frog know that to be a must stop for college football (particularly SEC) and soccer stuff. Not to mention really outstanding Hawks, Falcons and Braves stuff.

But when it comes to college football and soccer it is quietly, simply one of the best places you can stop on the internet for quality analysis and observation. Frankly, in a fairer world, the author of those posts would be paid to bring that kind of analysis regularly to the espn.com/si.com’s of the world, as opposed to finding whatever time he can as he works his real world job.

At any rate, there has been Swamp discussion here (thanks to swamp all-timer bobp) about the real loss to futbol fans of a footie podcast, World Soccer Daily. Along those lines, Braves & Birds has a fantastic post that captures the pain that futbol fans are feeling over its loss.

And, while you are there, scroll down and treat yourself to the initial college football posts as the season opens. Beyond solid. As always.

Enjoy.

I expect the Herald to have a four page special section tomorrow.

Italian Fabio Capello will be the next coach of the English National Team. Tremendous hire, looking in as an outsider.

Apparently, however, the insiders don’t care for it much. Those insiders being English managers.

When I played (for England) under Sven I felt it was all right to have a foreign coach but I have changed my mind since then,’ Middlesbrough manager Southgate told British newspapers on Friday.

‘I don’t think an England team should be coached by anyone other than an Englishman.’

Southgate’s views were echoed by Reading manager Coppell, another former England international.

‘I am sad,’ said Coppell. ‘I am a proud English manager and would have loved an Englishman to have been in charge.

‘You look at the list of contenders and what he (Capello) has done ticks all the boxes but I just wish he was English. We have now created a situation where it is very hard for an English manager to get to the top of the tree.’

I understand that it makes some sense to have a homegrown manager. Unfortunately, England is lacking in top quality domestic-born managers.

Steve McLaren was qualified and failed miserably. The top teams in the Premier league are led by a Frenchman (Arsene Wenger),a Scot (Alex Ferguson), an Israeli (Avram Grant), and a Spaniard (Rafa Benitez). Skip ‘Arry Redknapp at fifth-place Portsmouth and you have a Swede (Sven – Man City), another Scot (David Moyes – Everton), then the Northern Irishman Martin O’Neill. Seven of the managers in the Top 8 of the table hail from outside jolly old England. If that doesn’t tell you something about the state of your managing quality, what does?

What England needed, as a soccer federation, was a coach who wasn’t a part of the currently failing system, who could come in with a reputation that allowed him to put his playing style in place and pick players to fit that style, not players who were living on their reputation from succeeding in another’s style (another foreigner’s style, mind you).

It remains to be seen if Capello can take England to the heights they expect. He does have the credentials, though, no matter where he hails from.

A recent addition to this space is our finally getting with the times and adding a blog roll. The sites there are a collection of blogs that we find valuable and entertaining in a variety of different ways. A cruise through some of my favorites among them this morning yields these recommendations:

—A solid dissertation on the ludicrous nature of the rumor that if Matt Millen doesn’t get to seven wins next year, he will finally lose his job. The excellent Detroit centered blog The Wayne Fontes Experience calls bullshit on that, as historic losing hasn’t cost him his job up to now. Six wins would be damn near reason to throw a parade given how low Millen has taken Detroit’s standards…

—Braves & Birds Blog has been in the zone with regard to soccer thoughts in the last few weeks, but last night’s paragraph on the unholy convergance of bad things happening to favorite teams and programs in general is a highlight among always solid stuff.

—Dave Sez, also in the zone with the college basketball season deep into its year, with a thought on where this year’s ACC frosh class stacks up with the great ACC classes of all time. Well worth it if you care about college basketball even a little.

—Airing of Grievances, sourcing constant Frog fave Mighty MJD, for a compilation of greatest dunks from Vince Carter. And Chiles’ take on some of the unfairness of the criticism of Carter is well taken. By the way, I assume most of you have seen it, but if you have not, please check out MJD’s latest in his “Letters from Pets” series for the thoughts of Ron Artest’s very hungy Great Dane. Brilliance.

Enjoy those and the others we have on the roll. Quality stuff all around.

I have been playing Hardball Dynasty on What if Sports for a couple of months now. It truly is “fantasy baseball” as even the players are make believe. You control an entire organization from international scouting to your ML starting rotation. It can be a lot of work, so think about that before you join.

The initial learning curve is large and playing with veteran HBD guys can put one at a disadvantage. After deciding how to spend your annual 105 million dollar budget you then spend time hiring coaches for your organization before proceeding to spring training.

With both NL and AL leagues the make-up of your team can be critical. There are 32 teams in each league with each ballpark having different hitting/pitching factors. Players tire and get injured, but none have been arrested as of yet.

The graphical interface is fairly easy to negotiate and the HBD staff continues to update the game once or twice a month. They have promised that soon we will be able to play live games. If you are a Strat-O-Matic freak-like person (perhaps Mr. Delaware or BF Hood*) you will love playing. The season lasts about 2 months as they sim games every 8 hours.

Perhaps we can set up a Frog League if there is enough interest. The cost is $24.95 per season with a $15 introduction. I highly recommend the game and I have definitely gotten my money’s worth. If you have interest, send me a PM.