BLUENATIC

An Open Letter to Jeffrey Lange, Infamous Snowball Thrower

2009-11-03T19:50:00.023-05:00

Dear Jeff (can I call you Jeff?),

You're a rather hard fellow to find, I must say, especially for a lazy non-reporter like myself who didn't try very hard*. My guess is, after the unfortunate events of December 23, 1995 and their subsequent aftermath, you moved away from the area. Who could blame you?

Still, you may have heard that the San Diego Chargers are coming to town to take on the Giants this Sunday, Jeff. Would you believe the last time the Chargers visited Giants Stadium was 1995?

I know, I know. It's crazy. I was at that game, too. And 14 years is a long time to wait for redemption, brother.

Hell, I was 20 years old then. I had long hair, two earrings in my left ear, and not a care in the world at the time. I thought Phish was really rad. The Giants, on the other hand, were not rad, Jeff. Instead, they were awful. This was year two of the Dave Brown era, mind you. The season, I'm sure you remember, opened with a 35-0 home loss to Dallas on Monday Night Football and did not get much better after that. The team finished 5-11 and did not have a single player selected to the Pro Bowl for the second consecutive year. Not even Rodney Hampton, who posted a career-high 1,182 yards rushing that season. So when 24 unanswered second-half points turned a promising 17-3 halftime lead to yet another agonizing loss, punctuated with the final indignity of a 99-yard interception return for a touchdown, you and I and everyone else at Giants Stadium let it be known we'd had enough.

And we reached down below our seats, filled our ski-gloved hands with copious amounts off hard-packed snow (and ice), and hurled it. Boy did we hurl it.

That's where you come in, Jeff. And the 15 guys who got arrested that day. And the 115 fans who were ejected by police, ejections resulting in the revocation of 75 season-ticket packages. It was quite a scene.

But as you argued before the judge, you were far from the only one throwing snowballs that miserable Christmas Eve Eve. You were just the one unlucky enough to be singled out by an Associated Press cameraman and, the following day, by The New York Post. Tough break, Jeff.

As my friend Andy (who attended this game with me and The Old Man) recently recalled over email, "every single person in that stadium was throwing snowballs. Every single one." That may be little consolation to you now, seeing as how your life's been ruined and all, but Andy is 100% right. Everyone was throwing snowballs. If you know someone who attended that game, be assured that that person chucked some snow. That means your mom, your dad, your uncle Lou. Father McGuigan. Your barber, your congressman, your nanna. Sheila from accounts receivable and her husband, Irv. Your fourth grade teacher, your dry cleaner, the Harry M. Stevens guy. All the dudes in the wheelchair section. Everyone, Jeff. Everyone.**

"I hate to see this," Giants owner Wellington Mara said shortly afterward, "but I guess it's human nature. People see snow, they make snowballs."

Why nobody came forward to defend you, other than your attorney, I can't really say. I can only assume it was because the rest of us feared losing our season tickets. Or maybe it had something to do with your previous burglary and assault charges. But 14 years later, now that the statute of limitations have run out, I'll confess that I lobbed one or two myself, most likely in the general direction of the side judge. I've always had it in for side judges, Jeff.

I'm fairly certain, though, that neither you nor I was the fan whose icy projectile struck and knocked unconscious Chargers equipment manager Sid Brooks, who had to be removed from the field on a stretcher. Like Dave Brown, I am simply not that accurate (especially throwing into swirling winds) and I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. It's about time somebody did, Jeff.

I don't know if this letter will ever reach you, but if it does, be heartened by the knowledge that Sunday offers a chance for renewal. The Chargers will be in town, without J unior Seau, and there is no snow in the forecast. If you can scrounge up a ticket, consider yourself cordially invited to our tailgate near 10C.

I'll see you there, Jeff. Beers are on me.

Sincerely,
Weinstein

_______________________________________________________________________________

* = In case you're curious, Jeff, there are 112 different Jeffrey Langes on Facebook. And can you believe how old Jessica Lange got?

** = Except The Old Man, who does not partake in shenanigans.

Lange photo by Bill Kostroun, Associated Press.

The Wrecking Ball Can Wait

2009-10-29T18:55:00.041-04:00

Giants Stadium, I'm wont to imagine, is dying before my eyes. Game by game, tribute by tribute, it is passing into the past.

But it isn't really dying so much as it's being euthanized. In 2009, it's the Logan 5 of stadiums, running at top speed towards forced obsolescence despite remaining, on its surface, vital and spirited. By Spring it will be a parking lot, but for now and for the remainder of the season, it's home.

At 2009 tailgates, the future rises against the sky. It’s already shiny. And huge. And triple awesome, says the PSL brochure. I’m sure it is, and on some level I’m looking forward to it, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to Giants Stadium so fast. Not when there’s still a chance—5 chances, at minimum—to wring some more magic from its old bones.

Ah, who am I kidding? Old bones? Giants Stadium is a year younger than I am. If after 33 years Giants Stadium has outlived its usefulness, does that mean it’s time to take me up Mount Ubasuteyama as well? And if so, how should that make The Old Man feel? He was nearly that age when they first opened the joint.

Each week, the legends of the franchise are returning to pay their last respects. Some of them, like Frank Gifford and Andy Robustelli, never played a down here. Others, like George Martin and Harry Carson, had already established permanent residence by the time Lawrence Taylor was busy making Giants Stadium his playground. But they all come back. Bob Tucker and John Mendenhall. Joe Morris and Rodney Hampton. Leonard Marshall and Mark Bavaro. They all want to feel the Hawk whip across their cheek one more time because each of them knows what's at stake when we lose this place.

But there are losses and there are losses. On the field, the losses the Giants have sustained the past two weeks have proven true yet again the axiom that the NFL is a week-to-week league. After three games, the local tabloids were all suggesting the possibility of a Giants vs. Jets Super Bowl. Two weeks later, after the Jets crashed to earth, the talk turned to that of a potential “Manning Bowl.” Now, after two consecutive losses, the Giants suddenly face a “must win” game at arch-rival Philadelphia. They’ve dropped like a stone in most power rankings. National columnists are questioning their lack of a quality win. What a difference a week or two makes.

These losses have also led the knee-jerk contingent among the Giants fanbase to declare that the sky is falling. It isn't, of course. But soon, the upper deck in Giants Stadium will fall. It will be followed by the mezzanine, then the lower level. When they hear the sickening creak as the building’s final beams collapse, Giants fans will learn the difference between loss and loss.

This is the lesson we all have to learn eventually, of course, the hard lesson of "The Ball Poem." Once the stadium is gone we’ll be left with no choice but to move on, to accept its finality. It will live on in our memories only. Some glorious. Some infamous. Some personal. When we lose Giants Stadium, we’ll also be losing part of ourselves. But how does one mourn such a loss?

Last year I sat by and watched some of my blolleagues attempt to eulogize Shea Stadium in its final days, with varying degrees of success. Shea, however, was different. While it retained a certain sense of dilapidated charm in the hearts of the diehards, it was in the end a stadium on life support. A stadium that truly had outlived its usefulness. But Giants Stadium? Giants Stadium is, from my perspective, as vibrant today as it ever was. Beyond that, it’s become my treehouse, that place where I can go to get away from it all in the company of 80,000 mostly anonymous friends. My initials, along with thousands of others, adorn its still sturdy trunk. Aside from it being short a few luxury boxes, why would anyone want to tear a place like that down? A place that has brought so many people together. A place where the ghosts of Wellington Mara and Brad Van Pelt are as much of a presence as those swirling winds are. A place that stands as a physical link between generations.

Could it be the Giants 53% winning percentage in the building?

A wise friend from the Met-blogging ranks counseled me back in the Spring to take this season as it comes to me, to let it unfold naturally. I've been trying my best to heed his advice, to follow Warren Zevon's lead and "enjoy every sandwich," but it's not easy sitting in seats that are already for sale. And it's never easy to watch a ticking clock, especially when you know it's attached to a bomb.

I'm doing what I can, though, trying to take it one game at a time like the players and coaches are so fond of saying. I feel fortunate to have this year to celebrate Giants Stadium's final season, to take my 7-year-old nephew to a game as well as my wife, who is pregnant with our first child. That child will only know the new stadium as home, which is weird for me. But like CitiField did, I'm sure it will grow on me. Perhaps my child will pen an ode like this thirty-something years from now after forming his own emotional attachment to the giant flying saucer next door. One day, that new, state-of-the-art facility rising in the parking lot will itself be perceived as obsolete and be replaced by an even greater monstrosity. This will, of course, be characterized as progress by those who stand to profit from it most. By then, a personal seat license will likely run one the cost of a house today and surely pitched to fans as a sound investment. But I imagine that my investment in the Giants then, like now, will transcend economics.

At the beginning of the season, New York magazine's Will Leitch wrote that "no one cries for the Meadowlands. Fond reminiscences of the old Giants Stadium," he continued, "are nowhere to be found." The words angered me when I first read them, before I realized that they were 100% accurate. That made me angrier. But make no mistake, Giants fans, the death of Giants Stadium is a tragedy. And an utterly avoidable one.

It may not settle in until next season, when the suits move in. And with them their wine, cheese and entitlement. The gameday experience will never be the same. So I implore you all to appreciate this facility while you still can. There’s still 5 games left to play, and If we get lucky we’ll be rewarded with another home game or two come January. The Giants would like nothing more than to give the Stadium the send-off it deserves, and so should you.

The wrecking ball can wait, friends. Trust me. There's no need to report to Carrousel 'til springtime.

Enjoy the run.

Patton Oswalt Can't Do a New York Accent?

2009-09-25T22:48:00.047-04:00

I posted about a month ago about the release of Robert D. Siegel's Big Fan, a thoroughly engrossing film about the obsessive and illogical nature of sports fandom. Starring Patton Oswalt in his first dramatic lead role, Kevin Corrigan, Marcia Jean Kurtz and Michael Rapaport as "Philadelphia Phil," Big Fan is a film with which I both identified and which cut a bit too close to my Giants-obsessed bones. Shining a spotlight on the bewildering, oft-unreciprocated devotion fans like Siegel's protagonist, Paul Aufiero, and I show to our beloved New York Giants, the film begs the question, why do we care so much?

It's not a question that's easily answered, and fortunately for viewers of Big Fan, Siegel doesn't attempt to answer it. Jerry Seinfeld once aptly pointed out that sports fans are ultimately just rooting for laundry. Kissing Suzy Kolber's Drew Magary took the observation a step further when, after learning that his favorite team was on the verge of signing Brett Favre, he opined that loving a sports team is "a thoughtless, irrational, singularly idiotic pursuit." Both Seinfeld and Magary have a point, of course, but that doesn't stop either of them from rooting for their Mets and Vikings, respectively. Both are able to acknowledge their own lunacy (or, in my case, bluenacy) while remaining simultaneously enraptured by it, and they're able to do so because they understand that the idiocy of investing oneself emotionally in the outcomes of sporting events is part of the bargain. In fact, it's part of the appeal. Love was not designed to be reasonable.

Still, Siegel's Aufiero (Oswalt) takes his unwavering allegiance to Big Blue to an unnerving extreme. His actions reveal a man who, in his detachment from reality, loves the New York Giants more than he loves himself. This caused some literary-leaning reviewers to draw comparisons between Big Fan and Frederick Exley's cult masterwork, A Fan's Notes. But while there are some similarities between the film and the 1968 William Faulkner Award recipient, they are only superficial. Acutely aware of and tormented by his failure, Exley fantasized about admonishing his hero, Frank Gifford, by shouting at him that "life isn't all a goddam football game! You won't always get the girl! Life is rejection and pain and loss." Aufiero, on the other hand, uses football to shield himself from the pain of rejection, loss, and failure. To him, life truly is all a football game.

What isn’t clear, though, is why. And while this is a question that's left unanswered (intentionally) in the film, Rob Siegel was kind enough to answer it (and a few others as well) for the readers of this humble blog. What follows below is my recent interview with Big Fan's writer/director, unedited and in its entirety.

* * *

MW: To begin, I've read that you hail from Long Island and attended the University of Michigan. Me, too. I graduated from U of M in 1997. Did you ever meet anybody while growing up on L.I. or when going to U of M that had a Paul Aufiero-like dedication to a team? Is Paul based on anyone?

RS: I can't say I've ever met anybody exactly like Paul. He's kind of a composite of guys I heard listening to sports radio. As a kid, I used to listen to WFAN a lot, especially Steve Somers. He was my favorite. And the conversations you used to hear on there tended to be fairly intelligent, reasoned back-and-forth discourse. As sports radio goes, WFAN is pretty high quality. But then, when I went away to college, I couldn't get WFAN, so I'd listen to other radio shows, like the nationally syndicated ESPN-type stuff. The vibe was different, more chest-thumping in tone. Those shows were more like what I have in the movie, where people are calling up and just basically ranting, delivering these testosterone-driven monologues that sound like some pro wrestler talking about how they're gonna kick their opponent's ass. So even though the movie was inspired by FAN, it's modeled more after the Jim Rome-ish type stuff.

MW: To me, more than anything, Big Fan felt like a film about the people who inhabit the strange world of sports radio. Like you, I grew up listening to WFAN all the time (Steve Somers was always my favorite, too), so in a way Paul Aufiero as a character was familiar to me. He's a type, cut from a similar cloth as regular callers like "Jerome from Manhattan," "Doris from RegoPark," "John from Sandy Hook," "Bruce from Bayside," "Short Al from Brooklyn," and "Miriam from Forest Hills." Like Paul, these people all use WFAN's airwaves to help compensate for some sort of personal shortcoming. The difference between these callers and Paul lies in the severity of that shortcoming. Miriam is blind. Doris (R.I.P.) suffered from the same disease that afflicted the Elephant Man. Jerome suffers from epilepsy and various other illnesses. But Paul? Paul's just a guy who, for some reason, is unable to cope with adult life. He's insulated himself in a childlike state of being, under NFL bedsheets, but it is not clear why. The film's climactic scene suggests that perhaps Paul had been the target of bullies in his youth ("You didn't have to be so mean", he says to Philadelphia Phil) but it's not overtly stated. So I guess what I'm wondering is why Paul is in the state that he's in. Why does he refuse to accept the norms of adulthood? And how do the Giants and/or sports radio fit into that?

RS: You're right--I never make it clear what the hole is in Paul's life that he's trying to fill. I didn't think it was necessary to. Viewers can fill in the blank with whatever they imagine. As for the "You didn't have to be so mean" line, I think of that as referring to the sports radio culture he's a part of. Sports radio can, at its worst, be a really angry, hostile place. And it's one Paul enthusiastically takes part in; he's one of these mean people he's complaining about. Sports radio is a lot like the blogosphere--the anonymity of the Internet frees people up to be really nasty to each other and let loose with their most vicious impulses. The tone of discourse on the web tends to be really angry, even more than on sports radio. It's just men taking on these angry personas and saying things they'd never say to somebody's face in their real lives. I guess it's cathartic.

MW: On a related note, I found it curious that nobody else in Paul's family is a Giants fan. In fact, it doesn't appear that any of them cares about football at all. Fandom, especially extreme fandom, is often the result of breeding (so to speak). It's generational. Fathers and sons. Brothers. Family bonding over a shared experience. But Paul's brother is not a Giants fan. And there is never any mention in the film of Paul's father. So where does his loyalty to the Giants come from? What is the origin of his fandom? Was there a defining moment in his life, perhaps in his youth, that made him this way? That made him so psychotically loyal to a bunch of strangers dressed in blue?

RS: It's never explained in the movie, but I always imagined that his father, now deceased, was the one who got him into the Giants. This was something they bonded over. But I don't even think his dad necessarily needed to be into football for him to catch the bug. I'm a huge football fan, and I definitely didn't get it from my dad or anybody else in my family. I'm the only Siegel who's into football. I really don't know where it came from. I just remember watching the 1979 Super Bowl between the Steelers and Rams and falling in love. That was it. I was a Steelers fan for life.

MW: One of the things I like best about the film was that it rings of authenticity, right down to using the actual names of players (except for Bishop). The scenes in which Paul and his buddy watch games are spot on. That's the way fans watch games. They fidget nervously. They pace. They yell. They carry on. It's very visceral. And it was a nice touch to use a real sports jock like Scott Farrell (though I would have preferred a local voice). The sports bar scene is 100% realistic (but was that close-up shot of the Flyers scoring on the Islanders really necessary?) That said, there was one little nit-picky thing about the film that bothered me. And that, quite simply, is that Paul doesn't talk like an Italian dude from Staten Island. His brother does. His best friend does. His mother does? Why doesn’t Paul?

RS: I'll give you a very simple answer: Patton couldn't do a New York accent. He tried during the first few days of the shoot, but it kept coming out like a Boston accent. Like "Jacobs runs up the middle for 19 yahds!" I made the decision to scrap the accent and just have Patton use his own voice. No accent is better than a bad accent. A bad accent can ruin an entire movie.

Frank Gifford is All Class

2009-09-15T14:27:00.011-04:00

There were many highlights in the Giants opening week win over Washington, most notably the incredible strip/fumble recovery/touchdown by Osi Umenyiora and the exemplary individual effort exhibited by Mario Manningham on his first NFL touchdown. But while wins are always great, especially against a division rival, those of you who watched the game on television likely missed the afternoon's ultimate highlight.

At halftime, the Giants brought out something in the neighborhood of 80 former players spanning six decades, honoring them in a short ceremony to commemorate the final year of Giants Stadium and to acknowledge the 8 year anniversary of the tragedies of 9/11. Proving that Wellington Mara's "once a Giant, always a Giant" philosophy still holds true, it was a remarkable turnout and an amazing (and incredibly rare) assemblage of talent.

The Old Man seemed to get a kick out of seeing "wilderness years" old timers like Tucker Frederickson, Aaron Thomas, Bob Tucker, and John Mendenhall out there. And I felt privileged to get a glimpse at true legends like Andy Robustelli and Frank Gifford (pictured left), 83 and 79 years old respectively, lined up alongside heroes of my youth, Harry Carson, Rodney Hampton, and Leonard Marshall. It didn't even matter that L.T. and Phil Simms couldn't make it, because Stephen Baker could. And Karl Nelson. And Fred Dryer, and dozens of other Giants, stars and scrubs alike.

Would you believe I even cheered Chris Calloway?

After the ceremony, the players walked back down into the tunnel near the endzone where our seats have been located since the stadium opened. A few seconds later, though, Gifford re-emerged. Still possessed of the charm that once made him a matinee idol, The near octogenarian jogged gingerly over to the corner of the field, where a group of soldiers were gathered along the wall. Without fanfare or a swarm of paparazzi, or being prodded by a publicist, he approached each soldier individually, looked them in the eye, shook his/her hand, and offered each his sincere thanks (and an autograph).

It was a small gesture that speaks to the man's enduring character. It clearly wasn't for show. Though old #16 never served in the military himself, his best friend and teammate, the late Charley Conerly, fought in the Battle of Guam and Gifford has an immense respect for the uniformed servicemen who put their lives on the line to protect our freedom. Seeing him take time out to personally thank those soldiers was, for me, an unusually moving experience.

Following Gifford's cue, Hampton and Super Bowl XXV hero Ottis Anderson came back out of the tunnel and did the same. Theirs was a similarly touching gesture.

On a day in which the 2009 Giants outclassed a division rival, the Giants Alumni exhibited a significant measure of class as well. None of the beat reporters seemed to notice, and if they did, they didn't write about it (in fact, I haven't seen a single word about the halftime ceremony in any publication). And something tells me that's just fine with Giff, Rodney and Ottis.

Same Blog, New Look

2009-09-14T08:51:00.011-04:00

You may (or may not) have noticed that Bluenatic looks rather different than it did the last time you surfed over here. That's because I did a semi redesign over the weekend, prompted by the promise of a new football season and some insightful feedback regarding the color scheme I'd been employing (dark background, white letters) and width of the main column (unnecessarily narrow).

This redesign is a work-in-progress, though, so if you should have any ideas about how I can improve the design to make it more reader friendly, please leave those ideas in the comments.

Thanks.

The Myth of the #1 Receiver

2009-09-02T10:57:00.105-04:00

It seems that with lone exception of Sporting News, every preseason magazine, blog, TV pundit and sports radio host in America is convinced that the Giants can't make it to the Super Bowl this season without a true #1 (or go-to) receiver. Most of them have cited how the Giants lost 4 of their last 5 games (including the playoffs) and struggled to score points last season after Plaxico Burress exited the lineup. But while these doubters are looking at recent past performance as an indicator of what to expect in 2009, they would also do well to take a look back at some history.

The 2009 Giants, like many championship teams of the past, are built around a great defense and a dominant running game. These hallmarks of smashmouth football are what led the Giants to titles after the 1986, 1990 and 2007 seasons. In recent years, they are also what propelled teams like the '00 Ravens, '02 Buccaneers, '01, '03 & '04 Patriots and the '05 & '08 Steelers to Lombardi trophies.

In 1986, arguably the greatest season in franchise history, the Giants didn't have a single wide receiver top 31 receptions in the regular season. Their #1 wideout, statistically speaking, was Bobby Johnson, an undrafted third-year player who totaled one catch for 15 yards in the entire postseason that year. Johnson, of course, is most famous for hauling in Phil Simms' pass on fourth and seventeen at the Metrodome that season, but it is notable that his 31 receptions, 534 yards and 5 touchdown grabs were all team highs among the 1986 Giants wide receiving corps.

Do you remember who the Giants leading receiver was in Super Bowl XXI in Pasadena? No? Why it was none other than Stacy Robinson (pictured at the top of this post) a young, second-year player of North Dakota State whose 48 career catches spread across 6 NFL seasons were 9 less than a fellow young, second-year player, Steve Smith, registered last season. Lionel Manuel (3-43-0) and Phil McConkey (2-50-1) also got in on the action in Pasadena that day, as the Giants offense scored 39 points en route to their first Super Bowl championship. Would even the most ardent Giants fan argue that Robinson, Manuel, McConkey, or Johnson was a #1 receiver?

To be fair, the Giants #1 receiver in 1986 (and, it could be reasonably argued, 1990) was Mark Bavaro, who that year became the first and last Giants tight end to gain 1,000 yards in a season. Bavaro's 66 receptions from the tight end position were twice that of the Giants second leading receiver, fullback Tony Galbreath, those 99 combined receptions a strong indication that the Giants ball control-oriented rushing attack produced a lot of manageable third and shorts for Simms & Co.

In 1990, when the Giants returned to the Super Bowl (again powered by a strong running game and overpowering defense), they were again led in receptions by Bavaro and a running back (David Meggett). Stephen "The Touchdown Maker" Baker (26-541-4) and former first-round pick Mark Ingram (26-499-5) tied for the lead among wide receivers with 26 receptions apiece. In the Super Bowl against Buffalo that year, both Baker and Ingram made career-defining plays when the Giants needed them most, but let's not fool ourselves into believing that either player was ever a true #1 receiver. They weren't.

Instead, Baker and Ingram were key cogs in an offensive machine just efficient enough to keep the chains moving, the clock winding, and the Giants defense fresh. They made plays when they had to, but they were not game-breakers. The only game-breakers the 1990 Giants had, with the possible exception of Meggett, were on defense. And that was fine. For all the talk of "stretching the field" and "keeping the defense honest," the Giants simply lined up and ran the ball down its opponents' throats. Three yards here. Four yards there. A short pass on third down. It got the job done.

Even in 2007, when the Giants actually had a true #1 wideout in Burress (his performance in Green Bay was positively Ricean) it was the unsung receivers who came up big in the Super Bowl when the game was on the line. Sure, Burress caught the game-winning pass, but the Giants never would have been in a position to make that play had it not been for the contributions of Kevin Boss, Steve Smith, and David Tyree.

Boss' 45-yard catch and run on the first play of the fourth quarter was, many believe, the turning point of the game. Steve Smith's 12-yard reception along the sideline on 3rd and 11 with 45 seconds remaining gave the Giants a much needed first down and clock-stoppage, and put the Giants in a position to take that shot at the end zone on the next play. And Tyree? Do I really need to explain Tyree's contributions that evening?

All of this is just a roundabout way of trying to say that football is a team game, and that it takes a team to win a Super Bowl--not individual superstars, especially at the wide receiver position. Despite their best combined efforts, all-world wideouts Randy Moss, Terrell Owens, Cris Carter and Tim Brown own zero championship rings. Lesser-light Troy Brown, on the other hand, owns three. I never said it was fair, but it is what it is.

And the Giants are what they are, too. In their 6th season under Tom Coughlin they know exactly who they are and what they're capable of. They've got one of the best offensive lines in the NFL and, even with the loss of Derrick Ward to free agency, an outstanding running game with Brandon Jacobs and Ahmad Bradshaw (and Madison Hedgecock) leading the way. They've got a reliable if not exactly spectacular tight end in Boss, whose 6 touchdown receptions was fourth best among NFL tight ends in 2008, and a group of young wide receivers eager to prove that they can consistently make plays at the NFL level. Add all that to a sack-happy defense with a front four that's 8 deep, and you have a team that looks to be as good as any other in the National Football League in 2009. With or without a true # 1 receiver.

Big Fan Hits Theaters Today

2009-08-28T11:45:00.031-04:00

As the Giants prepare to face the Jets for the 41st consecutive preseason tomorrow night (they are 18-21-1 in the previous 40 contests), I figured I'd drop this quick post to remind you that writer/director Robert Siegel's Big Fan opens today (Fri. 8/28) in New York and Philadelphia.

I did a short write-up about the film back in July, but here's another link to the trailer.

In short, Big Fan is the intense story of Paul Aufiero (Patton Oswalt), an obsessed Giants fan whose violent run-in with his favorite player (the fictional linebacker Quantrell Bishop) brings his entire world crashing down around him.

In the wake of the Plaxico Burress fiasco, the film's pivotal scene cuts chillingly close to the bone, so it will be interesting to see how the Giants organization responds to it. In a recent interview with Deadspin, Siegel (The Wrestler) told Sarah Schorno that he did not seek (or need) permission from the Giants or the NFL to use the team's name, trademarks, or stadium as a backdrop in the film, and that the filmmakers have "no formal relationship with the team." Though former Giants tight end Howard Cross has cooperated with the filmmakers by participating in a few Q&As, Giants VP of Communications Pat Hanlon told me this morning that to his knowledge, nobody in the organization has seen the film. That would, I assume, include linebacker Jonathan Goff, who shares a number (54) and position with the fictional Bishop.

In today's New York Times, Mahnola Dargis writes that Big Fan is an "agreeably low-key and modest film" that "avoids sentimentality without abandoning sentiment." Those are words rarely, if ever, used to describe--for lack of a better phrase--sports films.

To my knowledge, Big Fan is the first feature film since Warner Bros' atrocious 1972 adaptation of Fred Exley's masterpiece, A Fan's Notes, in which the New York Giants are featured in any kind of prominent way.

As an official partner of the film I'll be screening it over the weekend and likely posting a review. I'm also working to arrange a short interview w/ Siegel, who like me is a native Long Islander and graduate of the University of Michigan. So stay tuned for updates on that.

Making the Cover

2009-08-03T11:21:00.023-04:00

Hi! I'm Mark Weinstein. You might remember me as the guy who writes 4,000-word odes to mostly forgotten ex-Giants like Charley Conerly and Rodney Hampton. Or as the guy who once kind of had a radio show. Some of you might even remember me as the fellow who released three albums nobody has ever listened to. Or as the guy who's spent the past 10 years helping to realize other people's dreams.

What you probably don't remember me as, though, is as a writer of books. And the reason for that is because up until about a month ago, I wasn't one. Believe me, as an editor I've had to rewrite more books than I'd care to admit, and my name has appeared in the acknowledgments of more than a hundred Timeless Works of Literature (TWOL). But until the book pictured above came off press back in June, I'd never before had my name appear on a book's front cover.

Examining the photo you might notice that I am only listed as a co-writer on the project, and that I do not earn top-billing. That's true, and entirely justified. I penned only 5 of the book's 30 chapters, the others written by "Mr. Stats," himself, Elliott Kalb. So it's not so much my book as it is a book I contributed to (and edited). Gotta start somewhere.

In The 30 Greatest Sports Conspiracy Theories of All Time, Kalb and I examine the most notable conspiracies in sports history, from Major League Baseball, the NFL, NBA, NHL, NCAA, to the Olympics, NASCAR, the horse track and the prize ring. Separating fact from myth, we attempt to determine which of these long-held conspiracy theories hold water, and which ones fall flat under scrutiny.

The five conspiracies I tackle in my chapters are:

#26: Did UNLV throw the 1991 NCAA semi-final game against Duke?
#27: Was ironman Cal Ripken's 2001 All-Star game home run a set-up?
#28 & #29: (Double conspiracy!): Did the New England Patriots, with an assist from the NFL, cheat their way to a dynasty?
#30: Did Chinese Olympic hero Liu Xiang fake an injury at the 2008 Beijing Games?

You might be surprised by the answers to these questions. And the only way to learn the answers is to buy the book. Or borrow it from your public library. Or beg me for one. Or steal a copy.

This post isn't all self-promotion, either. There's a Giants angle, too, as chapter #10 deals with the scandal surrounding the 1946 NFL championship game, before which two Giants (quarterback Frank Filchock and back Merle Hapes) were accused of conspiring with gamblers.

Taking that into consideration, as well as how I've selflessly used this blog to help promote books by both Ralph Vacchiano (my acquisition) and Murray Greenberg (not mine) in the past, I hope that you will forgive this rare bit of self-promotion. If not, I apologize. More Giants (and Mets) posts are forthcoming. I promise.

Carry on, now.

Edit 8/11/09: Newsday's Neil Best offers a nice mini-review on his Watchdog blog, referencing my Newsday-carrying past.

The Greatest Pack of Baseball Cards Ever

2009-07-26T23:31:00.020-04:00

The wife and I stopped by Economy Candy again on Saturday. Nestled on Rivington Street in the shadow of the new, ultra-modern $500-a-night hotel across the street, Economy Candy (Est. 1937) is one of the last remaining holdouts against the sad, hipster-fueled gentrification of New York's Lower East Side.

Stepping into the place is like stepping back in time. The store is stocked floor-to-ceiling with a dizzying selection of hard-to-find sweets that you likely haven't seen since childhood, and it never fails to transport me to a time in my life when all it took to make me happy was a fresh pouch of Big League Chew and some Fun Dip.

I stop in there whenever I'm nearby, which is often. I live within walking distance of the store. But I confess that the reason I frequent Economy Candy isn't just so I can load up on candy buttons, Pop Rocks, and bubblegum cigarettes. That's certainly a part of it, but beyond all the wax lips, candy necklaces and collectible Pez dispensers, there's something else about the place that keeps me coming back. Mostly, I come back for the old baseball cards.

Yes, Economy Candy has stacks and stacks of unopened wax packs of 1988 and 1989 (and occasionally 1987) Topps baseball cards for sale, reasonably priced at a buck a pop. 1988 and 1989 were years I spent actively collecting and taking great delight in baseball cards (there are tens of thousands of them stuffed in closets back at my folks' house), and purchasing a few packs from time to time these days helps me recapture, if only for a moment, some of that old joy. There are few thrills in adult life that can match the experience of opening up a wax pack, setting aside the gum, breaking and flipping the turned-over half of the cards at the "special offer" insert, and then carefully thumbing one's way through each of the pack's 15 cards in search of one's heroes. Or, as the estimable Josh Wilker calls them, one's cardboard gods.

As a 13-year old in 1988, my cardboard gods were always New York Mets. And then, much like now, I had to flip past a lot of Fred Manriques and Moose Stubings before I got to a Mookie Wilson. Even when I found a Met, I always seemed to find more Barry Lyonses and Jeff Innises than I did Keith Hernandezes. And that was fine. If you wanted a Keith Hernandez you had to earn a Keith Hernandez. You had to ride your bike to the stationery store a bunch of times. You had to spend your hard-earned allowance ($2 a week, for me). You had to open a lot of wax packs. That's what made the discovery of a Keith Hernandez all the more special.

That's also what made Saturday so incredible. Standing on the sidewalk under Economy Candy's firetruck red awning I opened what very well might be, from this 34-year-old Mets fan's perspective, the single greatest wax pack of 1988 Topps baseball cards ever sealed in Duryea, Pennsylvania. Of the 15 cards, 7 pictured current, former or future Mets.

The pack contained:

• A Roger McDowell, inventor of the Hotfoot.
• A Kevin Mitchell (in a Giants uniform) who, as a rookie, singled and scored the game-tying run in the greatest inning in New York Mets history.
• A Nolan Ryan (In an Astros uniform) who, as a babyfaced 22-year-old fireballer, won his first and only World Series ring as a member of the 1969 Miracle Mets.
• A Tim Leary (in a Dodgers uniform), who the Mets made the second overall pick in the 1979 Amateur Draft but who won just 4 games in 10 career starts as a Met.
• A Brett Butler (in an Indians uniform), who would spend 90 games roaming the Mets outfield in 1995 (hitting .311) before being traded to the Dodgers for two players who would never reach the majors.

None of those cards are what made this the greatest pack ever, though. Neither is the Gary Matthews (1973 NL Rookie of the Year), the Graig Nettles (six-time All-Star), the Bo Diaz (strangest athlete death on record) or the Dennis "Oil Can" Boyd, who gave up six runs (including a leadoff home run to Lenny Dykstra) in a Game 3 loss to the Mets in the 1986 World Series.

Forget those cards. They don't matter in the slightest.

No. The real reason why this was the greatest pack ever is because it contained both a Darryl Strawberry and a Dwight Gooden.

I'm not kidding. Doc and Darryl. In the same pack.

If I had opened this pack in 1988, it's entirely possible that I might have shit myself. Both players were still in their respective primes in 1988, in true All-Star form. That was the year Darryl hit the roof in Montreal on Opening Day and ended up leading the league in home runs, slugging percentage and OPS (and getting robbed of the NL MVP award). Doc won 18 games and made the All-Star team for the fourth time that year. They were just two years removed from a world championship, came close to reaching the World Series again, and in New York (and my neighborhood) they were like gods. Not just cardboard gods, mind you, but actual diamond deities deserving of worship. I had a life-sized poster of Strawberry on my closet door. A few feet down the wall, next to Lawrence Taylor, hung Doc's iconic Sports Illustrated poster.

Doc and Darryl never came in the same pack. Ever. You had a better chance of getting three Tom Nietos than getting both a Darryl and a Doc. Getting them in the same pack of cards would be like winning twice on the same scratch-off lottery ticket. Or like catching two keepers with one worm. It just didn't happen. At least not to me.

But 21 years later, as I stood under Economy Candy's awning shielding myself from the hot afternoon sun, there they were, just three cards apart. And I'm not at all ashamed to admit that reuniting with them there made my entire weekend.

* * *

I'm not one of those Mets fans who laments what might have been with Doc and Darryl. While it's true that they may have accomplished more had they heeded the sage advice printed on Topps' 1988 wax packaging and said no to drugs (and alcohol), I think the whole "Dead End Kids" perception is greatly overblown. Because those kids accomplished plenty.

First of all, they did what no Mets in the past 23 years have been able to do, which is deliver a World Championship to Flushing. The significance of that cannot and should not be understated. While Mets they were also named to a combined 11 National League All-Star teams, and won back-to-back NL Rookie of the Year awards in 1983 and 1984, becoming the last Mets to be so honored.

19 years after he last donned a Mets uniform, Darryl Strawberry is still the franchise's all-time leader in home runs, runs scored, runs batted in, walks, and extra base hits. He's second in total bases. He did all that in just 8 years. Not bad for a guy who never realized his potential.

15 years after last donning the blue and orange, Dwight Gooden still stands as the franchise's all-time leader in winning percentage and fewest home runs allowed per nine innings. If it weren't for a Hall of Fame legend named Tom Seaver, he'd also be the club's all-time leader in wins and strikeouts. Besides Seaver, Gooden is the only New York Met to capture a Cy Young Award, which he did in his phenomenal 1985 campaign. Not too bad for a guy who is believed to have snorted his career away.

While Doc and Darryl have certainly both endured personal setbacks in their lives that affected their baseball careers negatively, I never felt let down by their failures as men. Despite their shortcomings, they still accomplished more than a ton of guys who kept their noses clean and supposedly got the most out of their talent. And today I choose to remember them as they were on their baseball cards. I celebrate them. And while I acknowledge it's sad that for many they will always be remembered for those off the field troubles, all it takes is something like opening a rare pack of baseball cards to remind me how much they meant to me (and other young Mets fans) growing up.

On the field, Darryl and Doc never let me down. And on Saturday, in the midst of one of the most disappointing seasons in recent Mets history, they picked me up again. Together.

The 2009 Mets Season Summed Up in 4 Photos

2009-07-23T11:17:00.014-04:00

You can blame all the injuries if you really want to. It's certainly not easy to win baseball games when three of your four best position players are on the disabled list for an extended period of time.

You can blame the pitching, too. Santana and K-Rod notwithstanding, Mets pitchers have been inconsistent at their best, atrocious at their worst. The injuries to Maine and Putz (and now Nieve) don't help.

You can blame management as well. Or the training/medical staff. Or Jerry Manuel and his coaches. Cases can be made to support blaming all of them.

But it doesn't take a Silver Slugger or Cy Young candidate to catch a pop fly, or to touch third base. It doesn't take an All-Star to make a routine play. It doesn't take a brilliant GM or astute game manager to field a team that looks like it cares out there.

But as Coach Norman Dale so eloquently pointed out in Hoosiers, "This is your team," Mets fans. And unlike the 1952 Hickory Huskers, it doesn't look like Jimmy Chitwood is going to come to the rescue. Beltran, Reyes, and Delgado may not return this season at all. If they do, who knows how effective they'll be? Or how far out of the playoff race the team will have fallen by that point.

After dropping two out of three to the worst team in baseball, today, mercifully, is an off day for the New York Metropolitans. That means, theoretically, that they can't humiliate themselves again until tomorrow.

I guess that's a start.

And I thought I was the world's biggest New York Giants fan

2009-07-10T17:46:00.021-04:00

It's not set for release until August 28th, but here's the trailer for writer/director Robert D. Siegel's Big Fan, the intense story of an obsessed New York Giants fan whose violent run-in with his favorite player (the fictional linebacker Quantrell Bishop) brings his entire world crashing down around him.

Big Fan marks the directorial debut of Siegel, the writer of last year's excellent The Wrestler. It stars comedian Patton Oswalt (as toll-collector Paul Aufiero) in his first dramatic lead, with Kevin Corrigan (rocking the classic Starter™ jacket above), Michael Rapaport and Marcia Jean Kurtz as Aufiero's mother. No mention in the press materials of there being any cameos from actual Giants players or coaches, though.

The film has been a big hit on the festival circuit and has been receiving excellent critical notices (from The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, and Rolling Stone, among others). Locally, it's only set to play at Angelika Film Center, but more theaters are likely to pick it up as well.

I wonder what linebacker Jonathan Goff, #54, thinks about this?

Edit 7/24: Turns out there are, um, two more reasons to go see Big Fan.

On Jay Feely, Politics, Paradise Lost and Ceramics

2009-06-24T00:45:00.030-04:00

I'm not much into politics. Though it manages to catch my interest from time to time, it's something that I choose to observe from the periphery. It's not a subject I feel particularly qualified to speak on.

Me, I'll stick to what I know. Football. Baseball. Books. Bebop. Hip hop. Sports movies.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of former Giants (and current Jets) placekicker Jay Feely, who participated in "The Great American Panel" on Fox News' Sean Hannity Show on Monday.

Turns out Feely isn't a big fan of President Obama, and on Monday he went as far as to openly question the President's character.

When prompted by Hannity to speak on America's support of Iranian students, Feely first quoted some old dead guy named Phillips Brooks, then dug into Obama. "He's creating a foundation from which he must lead from," Feely said, "and that foundation does not have the same character traits that have made this nation great."

Hannity and Feely's panel mates ate it up. "You are ruining the stereotype of the typical football player," said one. "That is really well said," added Hannity.

Though Feely is a man who kicks footballs for a living (and not all that proficiently, one might reasonably argue), his appearances on shows like Hannity indicate that he clearly sees himself as someone whose greater future lies beyond the gridiron. Like football stars Jack Kemp, Steve Largent, J.C. Watts, and fellow Wolverine Gerald Ford did before him, it's possible that Feely intends to use his platform as a star athlete to one day springboard himself to elected office. And wouldn't that be something?

In a 2006 interview with John Branch of The New York Times, ESPN producer Pete McConville (of the ill-fated "Cold Pizza") said of Feely: "If you told me that in 10 years he'd be governor of Florida, I'd say, 'O.K., I could see that.'"

Wow.

Yesterday, after Deadspin and Newsday's Bob Glauber had a little fun with him, Feely posted 18 separate posts to his Twitter account in an attempt to clarify and amplify the statements he made on Hannity. One of those posts (or Tweets, as the kids call them) caught my eye (and ire) more than the others:

"Any American who chooses to educate themselves (and unfortunately many who don't) can add to the dialogue and make our country better," Feely tweeted.

Oh, so Jay Feely wants to talk about education now? Interesting.

For years, I've been itching to share my "education of Jay Feely story." Those feelings only intensified after his three-miss horrorshow in Seattle back in 2005. And when I started this little blog in January, 2008, I knew I'd get to it eventually. All I needed was an appropriate opportunity. Well, here we are.

Flash back with me, if you will, to the Winter of 1995, when Feely and I were both students at the University of Michigan. I'm a 20-year-old junior with an uncontrollable Jewfro (contained, on most days, inside a dirty white ballcap), two hoop earrings in my left ear, and a penchant for writing endless collections of manic, unpublishable poetry. Feely, on the other hand, is a 19-year-old sophomore/redshirt freshman finance major who had seen his first action for Lloyd Carr's Wolverines that previous fall as a kickoff specialist.

It's first day of Winter Term, and I'm sitting in the back row of a classroom in Mason Hall as a professor begins to explain the syllabus for, if memory serves, English 469: The Works of John Milton. It's a high level course which, I quickly realize, I have no business taking (I dropped the class shortly after), and as the professor continues to run down what can best be described as an intimidating reading list (Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, Samson Agonistes, etc.) I notice a shadowy figure shuffling nervously in the doorway.

After a few moments, the professor is alerted to the shuffler's presence and asks if she can help him. And, as if on cue, in walks Hannity's pal, Jay Feely. He looks lost, but he also looks like he's not sure if he's lost. Somehow, he's caught in between.

"Um," Feely stammers. "Is this ceramics?"

"I beg your pardon?" responds the professor.

Undeterred by the smattering of audible snickers that has broken out throughout the classroom, Feely repeats himself.

"Is this ceramics?"

"Do you see any potter's wheels, young man?"

Feely looks around. "No."

"How about clay? Do you see any clay?"

"No."

"Then I guess this isn't ceramics, then."

*Rimshot*

You should have seen the look on Feely's face. I don't think I'll ever forget it. It was the kind of face a teenage boy makes when he gets caught masturbating by his mother. Or the face Bald Bull made when you stuck him in the gut. Ironically enough, it was the same face Feely would make 10 years later on the carpet of Qwest Field while, thousands of miles away, yours truly savagely destroyed a barstool.

The idiocy of the exchange cannot be understated for a variety of reasons, most notably a basic understanding of Michigan's campus. It's a big campus to be sure, but it's even bigger when you take into account that there is a Central Campus--where Mason Hall is located--and a North Campus--where the art school (and engineering school, and music school) is located. In order to get from Central Campus to North Campus, one must board a bus and ride for approximately 15 minutes. They're absolutely nowhere near each other. And unless Feely had been trapped under a blocking sled for a year and a half, he had to know that. Really.

The relaying of this story is not intended to disparage Feely so much as to pump the brakes on whatever "up with Feely, the great intellectual" groundswell might be emerging from the desperate right. To be fair, he was just a kid at the time. And by all accounts Feely appears to be a decent human being, commendably active with various charities such as the United Way, Easter Seals, and the Muscular Dystrophy Association. I know he's been through some difficult times in his life, too, and I don't mean to diminish what he has overcome by pointing out that the guy's a doofus.

Clearly he is, but his politics make that point for me.

Feely may well have a future in politics, but for now I suggest he stick to kicking footballs. And just in case he forgets his place again, I'll remind him that much like that classroom in Mason Hall, there aren't any potter's wheels in the New York Jets locker room.

Should've Known Better

2009-06-14T19:10:00.014-04:00

Please forgive the crudely executed image above. I created it in MS Paint, which accounts for the poor shading. Still, I think it effectively illustrates what the Mets and, more specifically, Johan Santana, laid today at Yankee Stadium. Really, I should've known better than to be encouraged by yesterday's performance. After enduring nearly 30 years' worth of major disappointments (1986 notwithstanding), I really should have been more suspicious, more conservative in my optimism regarding a legitimate Metropolitan turnaround. These guys are hardly as resilient as I'd imagined.

Turns out one bounceback win in and of itself isn't enough to stop the bleeding. Instead, Saturday's victory served the same purpose as applying a band aid when in need of a tourniquet, or trying to plug a leaking canoe with a stick of Juicy Fruit. Sure, it might buy you a few more minutes out on the lake, but eventually the canoe is gonna take on water again. and sooner or later (and probably sooner, knowing these Mets) that canoe is gonna submerge, never to resurface.

The Mets, it would appear, are taking on lots of water, and they're awfully far from shore.

As today's humiliating final score would indicate, Greg Prince's comparison of the 2009 Mets and 1978 Football Giants was apt. 15-0 certainly sounds like a football score to me. And if Friday night marked Luis Castillo's "Joe Pisarcik moment," then this afternoon marked Johan Santana's Dave Brown moment. Santana's pitches were intercepted with seeming ease by the Yankees' bats, and, after being roughed up for 9 runs, he was sacked in the fourth inning. Santana looked less like an ace out there than someone in need of an Ace bandage. And a copy of this book.

I don't quite know why it is that I continue to allow this team to fool me into believing in them, especially after the events of the past two-plus seasons. Ever since Adam Wainwright's wicked curveball froze Carlos Beltran to end the 2006 NLCS, the Mets have been an imposter, a bunch of baseball zombies masquerading as a major league baseball team. Sure, David Wright is leading the major leagues in hitting. Carlos Beltran is swinging a hot bat, too. Francisco Rodriguez has been outstanding, and Omir Santos has been a revelation. All of those things, plus two dollars, will get you a ride on the subway, but none of those things are enough, individually, to make the whole of this team equal the sum of its parts.

In a way, these Mets truly do remind me of the Giants teams of the Dave Clown—I mean Brown—era. Those teams had some outstanding talent in Rodney Hampton, Michael Strahan, Jessie Armstead, Jumbo Elliott, Keith Hamilton, and others. They also had a coach (Dan Reeves) who had reached three Super Bowls and who today stands as the 8th winningest coach in NFL history. But the Giants managed only 23 wins out of the 53 Brown started, partially because they lacked talent to support their star players, but mostly because they lacked an identity.

The Mets, unfortunately, have an identity. Just ask 2008 World Series MVP Cole Hamels—They're "choke artists." And though they'll do their best to downplay the embarrassment of today's loss as they did Friday night's debacle, that's the identity they'll carry with them until they prove themselves otherwise. There's still more than 100 games left in the 2009 season. There's a whole lot of baseball left to play. But I'm through believing in these guys.

Today I wasted a beautiful day in New York City by staying indoors and listening to the Mets get humiliated while working on an edit that's proving to be more arduous than I anticipated. The latter I can accept, because it's my work and I get paid to do it. But the former I really should have avoided. I should have heeded the sage advice of my friend Jon Springer, who yesterday cautioned the readers of his terrific blog to "get outdoors, have dinner with ... family, take a few days off." I should've known better.

Tomorrow, mercifully, is an off day for the Mets. The way they're playing, they'll have plenty more of them come October.

Luis Pisarcik?

2009-06-13T14:11:00.037-04:00

In an impassioned, epic post to the always excellent Faith and Fear in Flushing, Greg Prince suggests that Luis Castillo's shocking failure to secure a routine, game-ending pop-up off the bat of Alex Rodriguez last night marked "a Pisarcik moment" for the embattled second baseman.

It's been more than 30 years since Joe Pisarcik's colossal blunder cost the Giants a sure win over the Philadelphia Eagles, yet with all due respect to Mickey Owen and Trey Junkin, the fumble stood until last night as the most memorable individual failure in New York sports history.

Pisarcik's humiliating gaffe, as Prince notes, led to the immediate firing of offensive coordinator Bob Gibson and, at season's end, head coach John McVay and general manager Andy Robustelli. Gibson never worked in football again. Pisarcik, the goat, never won another game as the Giants starting quarterback and was released after the 1979 season.

It is unlikely, however, that Castillo's error will carry the same (or similar) consequences for the Mets. Roughly 17 hours after his monumental miscue, Castillo was back in the lineup today, leading off and playing second. Jerry Manuel's and Omar Minaya's jobs both seem safe for now. Accountability, it would appear, isn't all that high on Fred Wilpon's list of virtues.

One of the great things about baseball, though, is that it's a game that offers its participants the opportunity for almost immediate redemption, and Mets fans are, generally speaking, a forgiving lot. So hopefully it won't take Castillo—a three-time Gold Glove-winner—30 years (or more) to live down his infamous error.

There's still 103 games left in the season, and despite all the injuries and schizophrenic play, the Mets entered today's contest in the Bronx only 4 games out of first place. Last night's loss certainly hurts. It's the most painful loss in a season thus far filled with painful losses. But as Carlos Beltran said after the game, the Mets aren't kids, they're professionals. They "have to move on and play better." They "can't go home and cry."

Last night's dropped pop-up may well have been Luis Castillo's Pisarcik moment, but today's game represented a chance to put it behind him and play ball. He took advantage of that opportunity, singling twice and fielding his position without incident. But baseball is a team game, and Castillo's Mets teammates rallied behind him today, banging out a season high seventeen hits while pitching surprisingly well. They got a great start out of Buffalo call-up Fernando Nieve (who?), which was followed by an outstanding inning and a third from the suddenly lights-out Sean Green. This time around, K-Rod allowed no baserunners in the ninth, got the final batter (Melky Cabrera) to ground to third, and David Wright made the routine play to end the game.

Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?

Having seen the abyss and avoiding its depths, I'm hopeful that these resilient Mets will continue to rally in the wake of last night's horrorshow. Sure, they're still down Delgado and Reyes, and they're going to have to continue relying on guys like Tim Redding and Nieve for the time being, but after bouncing back after one of the worst losses in franchise history to win in convincing fashion they showed the kind of resolve and character winning teams must possess if they are to be considered serious pennant contenders. Exactly the kind of character some said was missing earlier this season.

Of course, the Mets can undo all of this by going out and laying an egg tomorrow afternoon. But with Johan the valiant taking to the hill, I don't see that happening. A true ace, the only eggs Johan associates with are the golden goose eggs he is known to post on major league scoreboards.

Now let's put this whole thing behind us and never speak of it again.

Tour the Giants New Training Facility with Steve Smith, #12

2009-06-05T17:02:00.012-04:00

As you may have read elsewhere, the Giants recently moved into a brand-spanking new, state of the art training facility, located just west of Giants Stadium.

But reading about the 199,000 square-foot complex really doesn't do the place justice. You've got to see it to believe it. And thanks to amateur filmmaker/wide receiver Steve Smith, you now can.

Smith recently posted three self-shot videos to his Facebook page (totaling about 15 minutes) in which he gives his fans a nice tour of the entire facility (minus the executive floor). In the videos are cameos by teammates Rich Seubert, Shaun O'Hara, Kareem McKenzie, Ahmad Bradshaw, Zak DeOssie, Sinorice Moss, Adam Koets, Osi Umenyiora (a welcome sight), and trainer Ronnie Barnes.

Enjoy:

Part 1 (4:00)
Part 2 (9:10)
Part 3 (1:43)

Michael Strahan, Master Thespian

2009-06-04T09:58:00.020-04:00

While his former teammate Tiki Barber is busy making omelettes and humiliating himself (repeatedly) on network television, Michael Strahan is busy exploiting the same medium to become a sitcom star. Here's a promising 2.5 minute trailer for his new show "Brothers," a family sitcom which will debut on Fox this Fall.

Other athletes have made successful transitions to sitcomdom, most notably Bob Uecker and Alex Karras (though Dick Butkus not so much), and Strahan certainly does appear to have the charisma to pull off playing a retired NFL superstar named Mike. The trailer is also, much to my surprise, not entirely awful, and it's always nice to see Carl Weathers get work (though it will take some getting used to his shaven domepiece). I wonder how many episodes it will take before Weathers snaps at Mike, "Don't be a damn fool!" 2? 3?

As the ever astute Dash put it in a recent post to Deadspin, "this thing will either last 15 years or be canceled in the first week."

Amen, brother. I'll set the over/under on the number of gap-tooth jokes in the first season at 92.

Me and Tweeter King

2009-05-13T17:42:00.026-04:00

Hand me a late pass if you need to, but this whole Twitter business is a game changer. I've just been futzing around on the site killing time, and in the span of two days I've been directly addressed by both Rich Eisen of NFL Network and Peter King of Sports Illustrated. Who's next, Oprah?

Now, I'm not deluded enough to think that either Eisen or King are reading this humble, infrequently updated site, but you never know, you know? Crazier things have happened.

Eisen and I are both proud graduates of the University of Michigan, and I actually met King once on the set of Inside the NFL. He kindly gave a glowing endorsement for a book I acquired and edited a while back, too. So, you see, Peter King and I are regular pals. Just like Peter and Favre are. Only I didn't choke away a Conference Championship or fake retire eleventeen times. Who does Favre think he is, anyway, Sugar Ray Leonard?

Turns out I'm not the only person in the Giants universe using Twitter, either. Antonio Pierce is an active tweeter, as is Steve Smith, who also maintains a lively Facebook profile. Jessie Armstead has recently joined the fray, too. From what I've been told by informed sources, the Eli Manning Twitter account is a fake, though. That's a shame, really, because it was fascinating. Oh, fake Eli. You're such a card!

Anyway, this is all just a roundabout way for me to say follow me. Those of you who have criticized me for writing posts that are too long (an old friend once told me the ideal blog post is 500 words or less) will be heartened by the knowledge that my tweets will limited to 140 characters apiece. And who knows? Maybe I'll say something interesting one of these days.

Edit 5/16.09: You can now also follow Sinorice Moss and Danny Clark.
Edit 6/3/09: Kevin Boss and Michael Strahan, too.
Edit 6/15/09: 2nd Eisen re-tweet.

The (Not So) Long Farewell

2009-04-27T01:09:00.019-04:00

I got my first up-close look at New Shea last Sunday.

With an assist from the Bluenachick, I arranged for two seats in section 521 of the Promenade for the occasion of the Old Man's sixty-fifth birthday.

We met at the park two hours before first pitch, and after passing through the Jackie Robinson Rotunda, we walked every square inch of the ballpark that we were permitted to walk with our Promenade Level tickets.

We walked the Field Level concourse twice, investigating every nook, cranny and food vendor we could.

The Old Man had been at the first game ever played at Original Shea forty-five years and two days prior, April 17, 1964. And as he bit into his succulent pulled pork sandwich from New Shea's outpost of Blue Smoke and drew from his healthy portion of box frites with creamy bacon sauce (I opted for the "Mama's Special" from Original Shea holdover, Mama's of Corona), I couldn't resist asking him if he remembered what his food options were like that first afternoon at Original Shea. Hot dog, he said. Beer, probably. Peanuts. Hell if he remembered, he was there to see a ballgame.

So were we, I said. The first Sunday afternoon game in the history of New Shea.

Eventually we found our way to our seats and gathered our bearings. Or at least we tried to. I located the out-of-town scoreboard, the starting line-ups (now with names!). But we had barely warmed our seats before we were approached by another father and son tandem, who kindly informed us that we were sitting in the wrong ones. Theirs, to be exact. And while this was something that never would have happened to us at Original Shea, we chalked up the minor embarrassment (we were sitting one section over from where we should have been) to our general unfamiliarity with the new park.

Five hours later, the park didn't feel any more familiar. Though the Old Man and I both appreciated the increased leg room, less treacherous staircases and wider seats at New Shea, none of those things made us comfortable. Instead, we felt like we were watching a game in an opponent's park, certainly not our home. With the exception of the inebriated woman seated a few rows behind us who insisted on yelling "I got it!" anytime a batted ball arced skyward, there wasn't anything about the experience that made it feel like Original Shea. I don't think I saw (or heard) Cow-Bell Man even once, come to think of it. But I did see several people sipping wine. New Shea's got quite the selection, from what I understand. It was all a rather disorienting experience.

As the Old Man and I struggled to find our footing in the promenade and as I resigned myself to an understanding that the wine and corporate sponsorship was here to stay, it occurred to me that we only had about sixteen months before we'd be experiencing a similar bewildering feeling at New Giants Stadium, whatever it's eventually called.

Fans, for whatever reason, don't seem to make the same sort of emotional connection to football stadiums that they do with baseball stadiums, and there is little, I'll concede, about Giants Stadium itself that invites nostalgia. The place is, in essence, an endless slab of cold concrete. It's a soulless structure, devoid of all the things that make a ballpark feel like home. The concessions are horrendous, the bathrooms are almost as bad as those at Original Shea, and it can take you two hours to get out of the parking lot after the game if you don't know what you're doing.

And though the sign out front says Giants Stadium and the seats inside are blue and red, the Giants have never been the building's sole tenant. Rock concerts are held there. And papal visits. And soccer matches. Hell, the Jets have played there for more than twenty years now, albeit without distinction.

But despite all of that, Giants Stadium has always been a magical place to me. When I said that it's one of three locations on earth where I believe I'd feel at peace to die, I wasn't exaggerating. Ever since the September Sunday in my seventh year (1982) when the Old Man finally convinced my mother that I was old enough to go, it's held a special place in my heart.

Spend 200-plus Sunday afternoons pretty much anywhere, and it'll be sure to leave a lasting impression on you. But spend 200-plus Sunday afternoons (and the occasional Monday night) in the same seat braving rain, snow and bitterly cold, swirling winds screaming your head off in support of fifty-three occasionally spectacular strangers dressed in blue, and the place is bound to become a part of you.

That said, I'm going to resist the temptation of dwelling endlessly on the death of Giants Stadium this season. Though I admired the yeoman's work done by the folks over at Loge13 last year, I really don't want to become their Big Blue counterpart. I don't want to be "Last Year of Giants Stadium Guy." While I concede that it would provide a nice framework for my writings this upcoming season, and a rudder with which I could conceivably navigate my way through to its final days, that's not my mission here. I've had some of the best and some of the worst days of my life in Giants Stadium, but as much as I love the place, it's not a museum to me. My memories aren't so much tied to the building as they are to the people who inhabit it, the Old Man and my knucklehead homies every bit as much as Harry and Rodney and Eli.

So even though The Fumble happened here. And Flipper Anderson. And even though Jimmy Hoffa may or may not be buried here, I'm not going to allow the 2009 season to become a funeral. Instead, I'm looking at 2009 as an opportunity to celebrate Giants Stadium. Because once the Giants move next door, gamedays in the Meadowlands will never be the same again.

As I mentioned in a previous post, the Old Man and I have been encountering an increasing number of unfamiliar faces in Section 127 in recent years. Part of that is no doubt the result of the aging season-ticket-holding fanbase attending less games, especially in cold weather. Part of it is also due to the economic opportunism of those season-ticket holders who choose to take advantage of the lucrative re-seller's market, easily doubling or tripling their investments through sites like StubHub and Craigslist. But part of it is the sad truth that attending a pro football game is no longer possible for many of the working class folks who inhabited the stands in the days before ticket prices became outrageous.

The Old Man doesn't remember how much his tickets set him back in 1964, but considering how he was a twenty-year-old college student with a part-time job as an errand boy at the time, I doubt they were all that expensive. In 2009, though--his forty-sixth season as a season ticket holder--they'll cost him $85 a pop. Times ten times four, plus parking. From what we've been told, they'll be $120 a pop once the new building opens in 2010. And those will be on the relative low side, as tickets in the new stadium will range from $85 to $700 per game. And this is all on top of the cost of the Personal Seat Licenses (or PSLs).

Ah, yes. PSLs. Those will run Giants fans anywhere from $1,000 (Terrace 1 & 2) to $20,000 (Field 1 and Coach's Club) per seat for the right to purchase those exorbitant tickets in the first place.

The Giants, like the Yankees, are learning the hard way that in this troubled economy there is a limit to what fans are willing to pay to see their home team compete. For years there was believed to be a thirty-year waiting list for Giants season tickets. But with thousands of unsold PSLs in the Mezzanine Club levels still available at $7,500 and $12,500, the waiting list has all but evaporated. People as far down as number 50,000 on the list have been recently offered the opportunity to buy these PSLs, some of whom placed their names on the list only a year or so ago.

Eventually, one would imagine, the Giants will be able to unload these PSLs (and the $400 and $700 game tickets that come with them) to some corporate interest or worse, ticket brokerage agencies. This will ensure the Giants a handsome return on their investment, which is sizeable. It will also ensure, rather unfortunately, that the club level of New Giants Stadium will be full of suits and wealthy visiting fans of opposing teams. Awesome.

Back in the 80s, things were decidedly different. Section 127 was like a community, every week the same faces in the seats around us. The Old Man and I knew many of them by name. Others, we referred to by humorous nicknames. Friendships formed, to the point where some fans exchanged Christmas gifts. And many of those familiar faces were the old timers--holdovers from Yankee Stadium and The Polo Grounds--fans who had come of age during the Golden Age of Giants football (1956-1963), when the club appeared in six championship games in eight years. Loyally, they had stuck with the team through their fallow period, the seventeen year playoff drought from 1964-1980. And one of the most wonderful things about the 1986 championship season was seeing those old timers enjoy a sweet measure of redemption. Thirty years is a long time to wait for a winner.

Now, most of those old timers are gone. If they still hold tickets, we don't see them anymore. If they don't, there's a good chance it's because they got priced out. The few that still remain likely won't be able to make the move to the new building, which means the Giants will be losing what was once the heart of their fanbase. The folks who bridged Conerly and Simms, Huff and Carson, Robustelli and Marshall.

Brick by brick, fan by fan, the Giants history is disappearing. Their first home, the majestic Polo Grounds of Harlem (1925-1955), was demolished in 1964. Their second home, Yankee Stadium (1956-1973) will be torn down later this year. The Yale Bowl still stands and was declared a national historical landmark in 1987, but considering how the Giants compiled a 4-23-1 record in their two seasons there (1973-74), I'm not sure that's the part of the franchise's rich history they'd want preserved. The Giants also played one season (1975, the year of my birth) in Original Shea, before establishing residence at Giants Stadium the following year. Original Shea has already been reduced to a pile of rubble in New Shea's parking lot and Giants Stadium awaits a similar fate. It's progress, I guess, but at what cost?

I'll be out at New Shea again tonight, and I'm hopeful that it'll feel more like home. Maybe it will, maybe it won't. But one thing I'm sure of is that it won't feel like Original Shea. I've got sixteen months to prepare myself for the eventuality that New Giants Stadium will feel the same way. That's a long time, I guess, but after twenty-eight years in Section 127 it's really not a long time at all.

At least I'll have eight more looks at that cold slab of concrete, perhaps more if the Giants earn a home playoff game. And maybe the nine new players the Giants brought into their fold this weekend can help contribute towards a grand send-off for the Stadium. Hopefully, in doing so, some of its magic will rub off on them. Another Super Bowl championship, and maybe I won't begrudge the folks in the club level their wine and cheese. After all, I'll just be there to see a ballgame.

2009 Schedule Announced

2009-04-15T09:54:00.002-04:00

Sunday, Sept. 13 vs. WASHINGTON, 4:15 p.m.
Sunday, Sept. 20 at Dallas, 8:20 p.m.
Sunday, Sept. 27 at Tampa, 1 p.m.
Sunday, Oct. 4 at Kansas City, 1 p.m.
Sunday, Oct. 11 vs. OAKLAND, 1 p.m.
Sunday, Oct. 18 at New Orleans, 1 p.m.
Sunday, Oct. 25 vs. ARIZONA, 8:20 p.m.
Sunday, Nov. 1 at Philadelphia, 4:15 p.m.
Sunday, Nov. 8 vs. SAN DIEGO, 4:15 p.m.
Sunday, Nov. 15 BYE
Sunday, Nov. 22 vs. ATLANTA, 1 p.m.*
Thursday, Nov. 26 at Denver, 8:20 p.m.
Sunday, Dec. 6 vs. DALLAS, 4:15 p.m.*
Sunday, Dec. 13 vs. PHILADELPHIA, 8:20 p.m.*
Monday, Dec. 21 at Washington, 8:30 p.m.
Sunday, Dec. 27 vs. CAROLINA, 1 p.m.*
Sunday, Jan. 3 at Minnesota, 1 p.m.*

*Times subject to change due to NFL’s flexible scheduling system.

R.I.P. Brad Van Pelt, 1951-2009

2009-02-18T18:10:00.018-05:00

I had a whole post planned for this week about Lawrence Taylor turning fifty earlier this month, about how the news of his reaching the half-century mark signalled the official end of my youth. It was going to be a really funny post, with references to LT's wild extra-curricular exploits and jokes about his Wrestlemania appearance, Punch cigar ads and forthcoming national humiliation on ABC's Dancing With the Stars. If LT could be fifty, I reasoned, then time will run us all down eventually. Just like LT ran down opposing quarterbacks. Time is relentless like that.

But this morning, when I learned about the untimely death of LT's "Crunch Bunch" teammate Brad Van Pelt from an apparent heart attack at age fifty-seven, it put the mortality issue--both my heroes' and my own--into a new perspective for me.

This wasn't like the passing of Roosevelt Brown five years ago at the age of seventy-one. As a teenager I had observed Brown limping along the sidelines at Giants training camp at Fairleigh Dickinson University and was amazed when my father told me that this man, then nearing sixty, had once been one of the game's most dominant tackles. Time (and the game) had certainly taken its toll on Brown's body. He grimaced with every step he took, and looked to be closer to eighty than sixty. But because I had never seen Rosey Brown play--because I had never cheered for him, collected his football card or hung his poster on my wall, I didn't feel his passing personally the way those of my father's generation surely did. I didn't feel it because I couldn't touch it. By the time Roosevelt Brown entered my consciousness he was already a relic. It never occurred to me that the young gladiators he was helping to coach might one day walk like him, or, worse, fail to see their fifty-eighth birthday, as Van Pelt did today.

Van Pelt is different. Though he was already nearing the end of his Giants career by the time I began attending Giants games with my father in 1982, he was still one of the the team's most beloved players. Van Pelt and Harry Carson had provided the majority of highlights for some of the worst Giants teams ever assembled in the 1970s. As the Giants amassed a putrid 24-52 record from 1976-1980, Van Pelt made the Pro Bowl all five of those otherwise miserable seasons (he was joined by Carson on the NFC team in 1978 and 1979) and in doing so captured the hearts of the fans. Despite never playing on a winning team in the 1970s, he was voted the Giants player of the decade.

In 1981 Van Pelt, Carson and Brian Kelley (chosen 313 picks after Van Pelt in the 1973 draft) were joined by wunderkind Lawrence Taylor and together they formed "The Crunch Bunch", one of the more formidable linebacking corps in the NFL at the time. The Giants made the playoffs that year for the first time in seventeen seasons, beating the rival Eagles in the Wild Card round before losing to the eventual Super Bowl champion Forty Niners, and a new, promising era in Giants football was suddenly underway.

That offseason, "The Crunch Bunch" released the iconic poster seen below, which my father purchased for me as a gift. I slept under it for most of my childhood, and I can only assume that I was but one of thousands of young Giants fans who did the same. "The Crunch Bunch" were like gods to me, untouchable. They looked (and played) every bit as tough as the John Deere bulldozer they sat on for that photo shoot, and it would only be a matter of time before they'd be champions. Well, at least LT and Harry would.

Unfortunately, Van Pelt (and Kelley) didn't stick around long enough to partake in the glory of 1986. Kelley retired after the '83 season, and when the Giants selected Van Pelt's fellow Michigan State alumnus Carl Banks with the third overall pick in 1984, Van Pelt's days in blue were over. He was just thirty-two years old at the time, a year younger than I am now, but Giants GM George Young felt he needed a young, pass rushing outside linebacker to complement Taylor, and after selecting Banks traded Van Pelt to the Minnesota Vikings in exchange for fullback Tony Galbreath.

Van Pelt refused to report to the Vikings, and was subsequently traded to the Raiders, for whom he started twenty-three games over the next two seasons. By 1986, though, when the Giants became World Champions for the first time in thirty years, Van Pelt was serving in reserve duty for the Cleveland Browns, his last year in the NFL. That year he would suffer the final professional indignity of being on the defense that allowed John Elway to drive the length of the field and beat his team in overtime in the AFC Championship Game in Cleveland, on the same day his former Giants teammates celebrated their first Super Bowl berth in franchise history with a shutout.

That wasn't the way things were supposed to go for Van Pelt, the former Maxwell Award winner who had turned down a contract from baseball's St. Louis Cardinals to sign with the Giants. A player of his ability and character probably deserved a better send-off into retirement. But Van Pelt's contributions to the Giants throughout the 70s and his mentoring of young Lawrence Taylor helped lay the groundwork for the team's renaissance of the mid-to-late 80s, a fact not lost on his former teammates.

"We had success as a group," Carson told Tom Rock of Newsday about those 1970s Giants linebacking corps. "As a team we did not have it. But we took great pride in the way that we played the game together."

"[Brad] was one of the main reasons why the Giants always had a signature defense," added George Martin, a teammate of Van Pelt's from 1975-1983.

A few years back, I took a meeting with Carson, my boyhood idol, to discuss a book project he had been working on. In the meeting Harry shared with me that the life expectancy of an NFL player is only fifty-three years, the same number that appeared on his Giants uniform. It was a difficult bit of information to process at the time, but thinking about it now, in the wake of today's news, it's staggering. Fifty-three is only twenty years older than I am now, and it's eleven years younger than my father is. And neither of us was a two-time All American safety. My old man is overweight and diabetic, and I'm so out of shape I can't run to the bathroom without getting winded. Granted, neither of our bodies have had to endure the kind of punishment an NFL player's does, but it still begs the question: if the average life expectancy of a top-conditioned athlete is only fifty-three years, then what chance do the rest of us have?

Van Pelt had joined Carson and LT on the field at Giants Stadium back in 2007, when the Giants honored Harry for his induction into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in a halftime ceremony. Van Pelt appeared to be in fine shape that night, and he received a tremendous ovation from the home crowd, a crowd who remembered and appreciated his contributions to the team at a time when there was little else to cheer for besides him and Harry.

Today, Giants fans cheer for Van Pelt again. Rest in peace, #10. You will be missed.

Exclusive Bluenatic Interview with Author Murray Greenberg

2008-12-12T20:00:00.023-05:00

When the talk around the tailgate turns to the subject of the greatest quarterbacks in New York Giants history, the conversation invariably turns into an argument over the respective merits of Charley Conerly, Y.A. Tittle, and Phil Simms. Eli Manning, fresh off his Super Bowl MVP award, also receives some consideration, (mostly from the tailgate's more junior attendees) as does Fran Tarkenton among those die-hards who came of age in the Giants "wilderness years." But rarely, if ever, is the name Benny Friedman uttered. And that's a shame, because as biographer Murray Greenberg points out in his fascinating new book Passing Game: Benny Friedman and the Transformation of Football, Friedman may very well have been the best of them all.

Friedman, the Giants quarterback from 1929-1931, never delivered a championship to the city of New York. But as the game's first great passer and the league's top gate attraction, Friedman's outstanding talent and popularity may have single-handedly saved both the Giants and the National Football League from financial ruin and premature extinction.

Bluenatic recently had the good fortune to conduct an interview with Greenberg over email. Here it is, unedited and in its entirety.

***

MW: To begin, a somewhat embarrassing disclosure: I am, by trade, a book editor. And despite being a proud graduate of the University of Michigan, a Jew, and a lifelong New York Giants fan with a historical bent, I passed on this project when it crossed my desk a few years back. I told your agent at the time that it was a terrific proposal and precisely the kind of book I'd love to read as a fan, but not one that I could ever convince my bottom-line oriented Publisher to take on. Considering how Benny Friedman, as you wrote in the book's introduction, has been "largely forgotten" by history, I can't imagine that I was the only editor to respond in such a manner. So my first question for you is, how difficult was it for you to find a home for Passing Game, and how did you manage to finally convince the good people at Public Affairs to take it on? For what it's worth, I'm glad they did.

MG: Benny Friedman's story is more than a football story. It is a human interest story -- a story of the rediscovery of a genuine American innovator and a huge celebrity in his day who had become lost over time, a man who during the Roaring Twenties revolutionized football with the forward pass while becoming a hero to the American Jewish community. I've always felt that readers would be fascinated to learn of Friedman's groundbreaking career and remarkable life. A number of publishers, perhaps concerned with Friedman's relative anonymity, declined my proposal. I'm most grateful to PublicAffairs for the opportunity to rediscover the story of the sensation that was Benny Friedman.

MW: The first thing that struck me while reading Passing Game was the incredible depth of the research. The book contains perhaps the most extensive bibliography of any sports book I've ever encountered, and it's remarkable how detailed the book is considering the lack of living sources. As a first time author, how did you go about approaching the research phase of the project, and how did you manage to pull it all together? I imagine it must have taken years.

MG: I reviewed a great deal of material and it did take several years to research and write the book. But the work gave me the opportunity to indulge my love for sports and history, and I thoroughly enjoyed the process.

MW: Though you expose some of Friedman's faults, most notably his oversized ego, it is hard for you to suppress your admiration and respect for your subject throughout the biography. That said, you are careful not to speculate too much on the cause of Friedman's exclusion from the Pro Football Hall of Fame until 2005, more than twenty years after his death, or his general lack of recognition among the greatest athletes of his era. Looking back now with a fully informed perspective, why do you think Friedman's incredible career and contributions to the evolution of football offenses have been so overlooked? After all, this is a man whom Paul Gallico once called "the greatest football player in the world," and whose record for touchdown passes in a season (20) stood for 13 years. How much of this do you think can be attributed to anti-semitism? How much to the brevity of his pro career? And how much to the perceived stain his suicide might have left on his legacy?

MG: Occasionally, for various reasons and, sometimes, for no discernible reason, people who have made important contributions in their fields and attained great celebrity become lost over time. Friedman was one such man -- perhaps due to the fact that he played so long ago, perhaps for no discernible reason. Or perhaps due to anti-Semitism, though I've not come across any hard evidence to confirm that. Nor have I come across any hard evidence that would establish that anti-Semitism kept Friedman out of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. However, anti-Semitism can be subtle. Given that, and given Friedman's singular contributions to the game and his peerless ability as recognized by the writers and players of his time -- the great Red Grange called Friedman the best quarterback he ever played against -- it is not unreasonable to consider anti-Semitism as a possible factor. That said, Sid Luckman was elected in the Hall's third class.

Some Hall voters may have felt Friedman didn't play long enough, but by the standards of his time, his career wasn't overly short. I don't believe Friedman's suicide -- which in any case occurred 19 years after the Hall's first class was inducted -- was a factor.

MW: The New York Giants have had some pretty darn good quarterbacks in their history. Charley Conerly, Y.A. Tittle, Fran Tarkenton, Phil Simms, Eli Manning, etc. Where do you think Friedman ranks among them?

MG: Friedman was the greatest quarterback of his time by a huge margin and, certainly as a professional, was widely considered the greatest football player of his time, period. He was unequaled as a field general, and his statistics surpassed his contemporaries' by such wide margins -- as for example in 1929, when he led the league with 20 TD passes while the great Ernie Nevers was second with six --that it was as if he was playing a different game. And he was. As football's first great passer at a time when the forward pass was usually used only in desperate situations, he changed the way football is played, launching the game toward the modern pass-happy era and grooming the path for the great passers -- including those you mention -- who followed him. Though Friedman's tenure in New York was shorter than that of other Giant quarterbacks, he must rank very high in the team's quarterback hierarchy.

MW: In 2005, less than a month before Friedman was finally inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame, Haaretz published a list of the twenty greatest Jewish athletes of all time. Friedman did not make the list. Sid Luckman did, as did a South African cricketer and two table tennis players. Where do you think Friedman ranks in the pantheon of Jewish athletes?

MG: In answering this question I would reiterate my answer to your previous question and add that Friedman helped save a fledgling NFL that was reeling in the midst of the Depression, as fans flocked to see him display his sensational talent. And at a time of rising anti-Semitism in America, a time when many young Jews looked to sports, particularly football, to smash stereotypes and gain a place in America's cultural mainstream, Friedman was a major hero to the American Jewish community. All of this surely earns him a place high in the Jewish athlete pantheon.

MW: You mentioned in the book that both Penn State and Ohio State passed on offering Friedman a scholarship coming out of Glenville High School in Cleveland, reporting that Penn State's Glenn Killinger ultimately decided that Friedman was "too small to play." But why did Ohio State pass on the local hero? Even Michigan, for whom he would go on to become a All-American, didn't offer him a scholarship. Was it just because of his size? I don't want to harp on this unnecessarily, but do you think it's possible that anti-semitism played a role? Could that also have contributed to Friedman being buried on the bench for so long at Michigan? You wrote that in 1925, Benny was one of only two Jews on Michigan's entire varsity roster.

MG: As I said in a previous answer, anti-Semitism can be subtle, but I did not come across evidence that anti-Semitism directly impacted where Friedman did or did not attend college. In the book, I discuss Friedman's view of the role of anti-Semitism in his struggles to crack the Michigan lineup.

MW: It's unclear, from reading the book, why Friedman chose to hang up his cleats after only eight seasons. Was it truly just the lure of a coaching job, of a more secure future? Or were there other considerations as well?

MG: Again, Friedman's career wasn't overly short for its day. That said, although Friedman's sensational play and drawing power had helped the struggling NFL stay afloat, he had reservations about its viability. Those reservations, his desire to coach, and perhaps some weariness of the wear and tear that his skills and prominence brought him -- opposing players usually saved their most physical play for him, and fans eager to see him play wouldn't tolerate his removal from games for a breather -- likely hastened his retirement.

MW: In chapter fourteen, you write about how Friedman's star power helped turn around the economic fortunes of the New York Giants, the increased gates bringing them from a $54,000 loss in 1928 to an $8,500 profit in 1929. "It is no stretch," you wrote, "to say that in 1929, the sensation that was Benny Friedman very likely saved the New York Giants from extinction." Fascinating stuff. The NFL was still a fledgling league in 1929, and it is hard to imagine the league surviving without a franchise in the nation's biggest market. So if it isn't a stretch to say that Benny Friedman saved the New York Giants, is it a stretch to say, by extension, that he also indirectly saved the National Football League?

MG: Given Friedman's importance to the Giants, his sensational skills, and his magnetic fan appeal throughout the league, I believe Friedman played a crucial role in helping the NFL survive.

MW: In chapter twenty one, you write of how Friedman was openly critical of some of the "modern" pro quarterbacks of the 1960s and seventies: guys like Namath, Bradshaw, etc. How do you think Friedman would look upon the great quarterbacks of the present day? The Peyton Mannings and Tom Bradys of the world? Do you think he would be pleased with how the quarterback position has evolved?

MG: Friedman, not one to hesitate to offer his views on football, had some interesting views of the evolution of the quarterback position that I discuss in the book. Regarding present-day quarterbacks, Friedman admired great passers, and admired outstanding field generalship even more. Referring to the two quarterbacks you mention, I believe Friedman would think very highly of Brady and Manning, both of who are outstanding passers as well as outstanding field generals. They are also tough and (at least until this year in Brady's case) have avoided serious injury without sacrificing toughness and intensity. Friedman believed that too many quarterbacks -- such as Joe Namath, to name one -- unnecessarily expose themselves to injury.

Who Are These Guys?

2008-11-20T03:22:00.018-05:00

With 292 points through their first ten games, the 2008 New York Giants are the highest scoring team in the National Football League. They're averaging 29.2 points per game, have twice topped 40 points and have reached the 30-point plateau in each of their last three games.

Clearly, these aren't your father's (or grandfather's) Giants.

Or are they?

The traditionally defensive-minded Giants have led the NFL in scoring only four times in their storied 83-year history and only once since 1933, when Pro Bowlers Y.A. Tittle, Frank Gifford, Del Shofner and the 1963 Giants outscored their nearest competitor (Jim Brown and The Cleveland Browns) by 105 points. 1963 marked the end of the Giants' incredible run of six Championship Game appearances in eight years (five of which they lost), and following their crushing, season-ending 14-10 defeat at the hands of the Chicago Bears they did not return to the playoffs again for 17 years. But 1963 was a glorious year for Tittle who, in the midst of a memorable 4-year renaissance in New York shattered the single-season record for touchdown passes with 36 (a record that would stand until 1984) and at age 37 was named the league's Most Valuable Player by the Associated Press.

Outstanding quarterback play was also at the center of the Giants previous three scoring titles. Decades earlier, when the Giants led the fledgling league with 312 and 308 points in 1929 and 1930 respectively, they were led by Benny Friedman, the celebrated University of Michigan All-American and the game's first great passing quarterback. So enamored with Friedman's abilities on the football field and potential draw as a Jewish sports star in the New York market, Giants' owner Tim Mara purchased and immediately disbanded Friedman's team, the Detroit Wolverines, for $3,500 (seven times what he paid for the rights to the New York franchise four years earlier) in order to obtain him after Detroit's owners, sensing Mara's desperation, refused trade offer after trade offer.

The season before, 1928, Friedman became the only player in NFL history before or since to lead the league in both passing and rushing touchdowns. And Mara's investment paid off instantly in 1929, as Friedman's league-leading 20 touchdown passes were 14 more than Ernie Nevers, who finished second, tallied. "It is no exaggeration," wrote Friedman biographer Murray Greenberg in his new book Passing Game, "to say that Benny's 20 touchdown passes in 1929 were every bit as astounding and groundbreaking an achievement as was Babe Ruth's 60 home runs hit two years earlier."

After a contentious financial dispute with Mara, Friedman bolted for the nearby Brooklyn Dodgers in 1932. But Mara exacted a measure of revenge a year later by signing Friedman's protege, the 5'8, 179 pound fellow Michigan man (and tribesman) Harry Newman, who as a rookie in 1933 led all NFL quarterbacks in pass attempts, completions, passing yards and passing touchdowns, in addition to leading the Giants to the league's scoring title for the third time in four years.

Why the history lesson? Well, not just to show off some of what I've learned reading Greenberg's exhaustively researched book (a full review is forthcoming once I've finished it) but also to illustrate just how long it's been since the New York Giants were a true offensive powerhouse.

One scoring title in the last seventy-five years? No Pro Bowl wide receivers in forty years (Homer Jones, inventor of the spike)? It hasn't exactly been the Greatest Show on Turf, now, has it?

It brings me no joy to also note that the Giants failed to win the championship all four times they've led the league in scoring. They lost in the Championship Game to George Halas and his Chicago Bears in 1933 (in the first ever Championship Game) and again in 1963, and they finished second (to Green Bay) in 1929 and 1930, too, back when the NFL Champion was still determined by the season-ending standings.

Additionally, you'll have to go back to 1999, when the St. Louis Rams narrowly defeated the Tennessee Titans in the Super Bowl, to find the last NFL scoring champion to also lay claim to the Lombardi Trophy. So even though the Giants do appear to have a formidable defense to match their suddenly prolific offense I wouldn't start printing up any "Back-to-Back Champion" t-shirts just yet if I were you. Just remember what happened last year. Championships aren't won in the regular season, and anything can happen when you get to the playoffs. Just ask Tom Brady.

Still, it's remarkable what this offense has been accomplishing lately. Thirteen different Giants have found the end zone so far this season (yes, even Sinorice Moss). Brandon Jacobs, arguably the most punishing runner the NFL has seen since Earl Campbell, has found it a league-leading* 11 times while trucking rival defensive backs at an alarming rate.

And even though Eli Manning has thrown for less than 200 yards in six consecutive games and Plaxico Burress, the Giants top receiver, hasn't really gotten it going, the offense (with the exception of their inexplicable stumble in Cleveland) hasn't suffered as a result. Relying instead on their league-best rushing offense (5.3 YPC), the Giants have run the ball for 200 plus yards in each of their last three games despite facing the tough defenses of both the Eagles and Ravens (#1 against the run coming in) over that stretch. This is the first time the Giants have accomplished this since 1952, Frank Gifford's rookie year.

They're on pace to finish the season with 467 points, which would easily break the team record (set in 1963) of 448. And really, it all starts with the play of the offensive line. Those guys are just going out and mashing their opponents each week. It's almost unfair, the holes they're opening up for Earth, Wind & Fire. They're the kinds of holes Gifford could run through even now, and he's 78 years old.

And all of this is just to say enjoy it while it lasts, Giants fans. Do yourselves a favor and savor this season, because you might not see another one like it for a very long time.
_____________________________________________________________

* Tied with Lendale White and Maurice Jones-Drew

From Zeroes to Heroes

2008-10-16T19:35:00.017-04:00

"Talk about your plenty, talk about your ills,
One man gathers what another man spills."
-- Robert Hunter, Saint Stephen

Much positive media attention has been showered upon Jerry Reese for his outstanding first draft as General Manager of the Giants, and with good reason. Seven of the eight players Reese selected in April, 2007 made significant contributions to last season's Super Bowl-winning team, and these astute selections, combined with his other roster moves, now leave the Giants with a core of young talent primed to make legitimate championship runs well into the future.

Known for years as as one of the game's shrewdest talent evaluators, Reese rose quickly through the ranks of the Giants front office, going from low-level college scout to Director of Player Personnel in less than eight years. In his four years as DPP (2003-2006), Reese not only coordinated the Giants’ college scouting operation, but was also placed in charge of the team’s draft preparation and the running of the draft room under General Manager Ernie Accorsi.

It was in this position that Reese helped to form the team that would become the champions of the world in 2007, including the selection of "sleepers" such as Justin Tuck (3rd round, 2005), Brandon Jacobs (4th round, 2005), David Diehl (5th round, 2003) and Barry Cofield (4th round, 2006), as well as the scouting and signing of undrafted rookie free agents James Butler (2005) and Chase Blackburn (2005). And this isn't even mentioning the 2nd round steals of Osi Umenyiora in 2003 (56th overall) and Chris Snee in 2004 (34th overall).

Needless to say, Reese has come a long way.

But beyond his outstanding and much ballyhooed 2007 draft class, his eye for undrafted talent and his ability to acquire and plug veterans into positions of need without overpaying (see: Kawika Mitchell in 2007, Danny Clark in 2008), Reese also deserves high marks for, as another blogger recently noted, finding treasure in other teams' trash.

Consider if you will that Reese signed all of the above-pictured players (Madison Hedgecock, Domenik Hixon, Dave Tollefson and Derrick Ward) either off waivers or off the practice squads of other NFL teams. These players, who have all made significant contributions for the Giants over the past two years, were each considered expendable by seemingly talent-depleted teams such as the Rams (Hedgecock), Raiders (Tollefson) Jets (Ward), and Broncos (Hixon).

Reese saw something in these players that the other clubs couldn't, and through their stellar play he has been rewarded for his prescience.

* * * * *

With all due respect to fan favorites Jim Finn and Charles Way, Madison Hedgecock is the best blocking fullback the Giants have had since Maurice Carthon. In fact, he might be even better. His blocking was absolutely crucial to the success of the Giants running game in 2007 and a big reason why Brandon Jacobs, Derrick Ward and Ahmad Bradshaw (or Earth, Wind and Fire, if you prefer) are combining to average nearly 6.6 yards per carry thus far in 2008. An absolutely obscene number.

Hedgecock, a converted defensive lineman out of the University of North Carolina, was originally a 7th round (251st pick overall) draft choice of the Rams in 2005. The Rams waived him on Sept. 11, 2007, choosing instead to go with Brian Leonard, a 2nd round pick out of Rutgers they believed (incorrectly, it turns out) was the superior talent at fullback.

The always alert and opportunistic Reese claimed Hedgecock off waivers the very next day and the Giants immediately plugged him in as their starting fullback. A year and a half later, Leonard is on Injured Reserve for the 1-4 Rams while Hedgecock is playing at a Pro Bowl level, clearing the way for the Giants gifted trio of runners.

I wonder what Steven Jackson, the Rams' franchise running back, thinks of that brilliant personnel move now?

* * * * *

A converted safety out of the University of Akron, Wide Receiver Domenik Hixon was originally a 4th round (130th pick overall) draft choice of the Denver Broncos in 2006. He spent the entire 2006 season on the Broncos' reserve/non-football injury list with a foot injury and was waived by the Broncos on Oct. 2, 2007, just a few weeks after his special teams collision with Buffalo's Kevin Everett left Everett temporarily paralyzed.

As was the case with Hedgecock, Reese claimed Hixon off waivers the very next day. Hixon went on to play mostly on special teams for the Giants in 2007, enjoying some success and returning a kickoff for a touchdown in the Giants' regular season finale against New England. But it was Hixon's critical recovery of a R.W. McQuarters fumble on a punt return in the NFC Championship Game in frigid Green Bay that proved his true worth in the 2007 season.

In 2008, Hixon is proving that he can contribute to the Giants offense as well. Subbing for a suspended Plaxico Burress, Hixon hauled in 4 passes for 101 yards and a touchdown in the first half against Seattle on October 5th, before exiting the game with a concussion. He also had one rush (an end around) that went for 15 yards. Through five games, Hixon has 11 catches for 197 yards and that one touchdown, and is now seeing the field with regularity when the Giants decide to spread the field with a four wide receiver formation. His stellar play (which began with a terrific preseason) has made it difficult for Sinorice Moss and Mario Manningham to get on the field, as Hixon has passed them both on the wide receiver depth chart.

What's perhaps most amazing about Hixon's emergence in New York is the knowledge that he came from Denver, where Head Coach/GM Mike Shanahan is regarded as being one of the game's best evaluators of talent. With wideouts like Brandon Marshall, Javon Walker and Brandon Stokely on the Broncos roster last season it's clear that there wasn't much room for Hixon, but still it's curious that a guy like Shanahan would let someone of Hixon's obvious physical gifts go for nothing. But his loss is the Giants gain, and Reese, Coughlin & Co. are happy to have him.

Who knows? Maybe he's got another one of these in his bag of tricks.

* * * * *

Originally a 7th round (253rd pick overall) draft choice of the Green Bay Packers in 2006, reserve defensive end Dave Tollefson was waived by the Packers on Sept. 2, 2006 and then signed to the Packers’ practice squad a few days later. The Oakland Raiders signed him off of the Packers practice squad in January of 2007, but waived him at the beginning of the season and, like the Packers, signed him to their practice squad. A month later, Reese signed Tollefson away from Oakland, adding more pass-rushing depth to what was already a formidable rotation.

While at this stage in his development Tollefson is just a reserve player who isn't always activated on Sundays, he has proven himself to be a valuable addition when called upon. As I wrote in an earlier blog post here at Bluenatic, Tollefson showed flashes in limited action last season, impressing the Giants coaches with his play down the stretch against both Tampa Bay and Dallas in the playoffs.

"He affected (Tony) Romo on one play and on another play he made a great effort to prevent a first down," Giants defensive line coach Mike Waufle told Mike Garafolo of the Newark Star-Ledger. "He was effective in the fourth quarter in that game."

Tollefson is still a work in progress and struggles at times against the run and against the better left tackles in the league, but he's got a knack for getting to the quarterback and has a motor that won't quit. And though he's been inactive the past few weeks, Giants fans can certainly expect to see him contribute at some point this season.

And the Raiders? They could certainly use a pass rusher or two.

* * * * *

While Reese can't get 100% of the credit for acquiring Derrick Ward (Accorsi was still GM at the time), his signing may well be the Giants' shrewdest scrap-heap acquisition of them all.

Originally a 7th round (235th pick overall) draft choice of the New York Jets in 2004, Ward was waived and then signed to the Jets practice squad before the 2004 season opener. A month later, the Giants signed him.

Despite a promising 92-yard kickoff return for a touchdown against Washington that first season, Ward was mostly an afterthought in the Giants offense for his first three seasons in blue, as he sat buried on the depth chart behind star running back Tiki Barber and his lesser-light backups, Ron Dayne, Mike Cloud (remember him?), and later the beastly Brandon Jacobs. In fact, Ward had zero rushing attempts in both 2004 and 2006 and only 35 in 2005. But Ward bided his time, practiced hard, hit the weight room, and when he finally got an opportunity to show what he could do in 2007, he played phenomenally well.

Last year, Ward was a revelation filling-in for the banged-up Jacobs (602 yards in 8 games), and was enjoying his greatest game as a pro (154 yards and a score) against Chicago in early December when a broken fibula ended his season.

But through five games this season, Ward leads all NFL running backs in yards per carry with an astounding 7.4. He (Wind) has proven to be the perfect complement to Jacobs (Earth) and Ahmad Bradshaw (Fire), as the Giants boast the league's top rushing offense.

Ward is a huge part of that, and he's earned every accolade he gets. While he's still not the starter, he is a key cog in the Giants offensive machine and with free agency looming in 2009, there's an excellent chance that he'll be starting for someone else (and getting paid for it) next season.

And the Jets? They're still searching for an adequate replacement for Curtis Martin. Since Martin's retirement after the 2005 season, the Jets backfield has been a revolving door of coulda beens, never wases, and if onlys, including Cedric Houston, Derrick Blaylock, Kevan Barlow, Leon Washington and the sometimes brilliant yet maddeningly inconsistent Thomas Jones.

You don't think they could use a guy averaging 7.4 yards a game this season?

* * * * *

Though it's been said a billion times, it bears repeating here: scouting is an imprecise science. One man's trash is another man's treasure. One man gathers what another man spills. Add your own cliche if you care to.

But make no mistake: Jerry Reese knows how to find talent, and Tom Coughlin knows how to utilize it. So don't be surprised if reserve tight end Darcy Johnson (UDFA, 2006) makes an impact at some point this season, or if guard/tackle Kevin Boothe (waived by Oakland, 2007) excels subbing in for an injured lineman. And next year, when Derrick Ward is tearing it up for someone else, don't be surprised when all of a sudden Danny Ware (waived by Jets, 2007) sees some carries and shows himself to be a player of considerable ability.

Don't be surprised because Jerry Reese won't be surprised. He knew what he had in those kids all along.

Exclusive Interview with Ralph Vacchiano of the New York Daily News

2008-10-02T13:02:00.032-04:00

For a guy who's much more used to asking questions than answering them, New York Daily News Giants beat reporter Ralph Vacchiano sure has been granting a lot of interviews lately. In addition to dozens of recent radio appearances, he's talked to G-Men HQ, My Team Rivals and Gelf magazine in the past few weeks alone, and his celebrity appears to be growing exponentially.

Perhaps it has something to do with the recent release of his first book, Eli Manning: The Making of a Quarterback, an outstanding book which Sports Illustrated's Peter King called "a must-read for Giants fans."

Perhaps it's because Ralph has emerged as a breakout television star of the highest order.

Or maybe it's just because he pens what is by far the finest Giants-specific blog on the internet (this one included).

Our colleagues at The Sports Hernia Blog have their own theory, as well.

But whichever the reason for Ralph's sudden ascent into media super-duper-stardom, we here at Bluenatic were mighty pleased when he agreed to grant our little blog an interview of its very own.

Here it is, unedited in its entirety.

***

MW: I understand that you grew up a Giants fan in Oakdale, L.I. Who were your favorite Giants players as a kid? Are there any specific memories of Giants fandom that stick out to you from your youth?

RV: Probably the biggest memories are more personal than they are specific to the team. I recall watching the games with my dad, with him laying on the floor in front of the TV and me either leaning on him or sitting over on the couch. I was a fan of all sports, but I was way more into baseball (Mets) and hockey (Islanders) when I was growing up. I enjoyed watching football when I was real young, and I think I may have had a Steelers jersey at one point. But I didn’t become a serious football fan until I was in my teens. And of course, that coincided with the Giants’ revival and the arrival of Phil Simms and LT, who in turn became my two favorite players. Those teams were so great, and it was in my formative years as a fan, so there was almost no way I could avoid rooting for the Giants. Of course, it helped that my dad was a long-time Giants fan, too.

I suppose I should mention one other specific memory, which sort of makes me a footnote to a footnote in Giants history. I was in the marching band when I attended Connetquot High School out on Long Island and we were selected to play the national anthem and perform the halftime show at the Giants’ final game of the 1986 regular season – a rollicking, 55-24 win over the Green Bay Packers that sent them on to the postseason and, of course, their first Super Bowl championship. That was my first Giants Stadium experience, sitting on metal bleachers in the end zone, freezing my butt off in a very dorky band uniform. It’s strange. The contributions of the Connetquot Thunderbird Marching Band are rarely mentioned when the stories of the ’86 team are told.

MW: You attended the famed S.I. Newhouse School of Journalism at Syracuse University, the same school which produced Marv Albert, Bob Costas, Mike Tirico, Len Berman, Sean McDonough, Dick Stockton and many others. At what age did you know that you wanted to be a sportswriter? And how did your experience at Newhouse help shape you into the journalist you are today? I'll be kind enough not to solicit your opinion of Greg Robinson's Orangemen this season.

RV: Thanks. And it’s for the best because my opinion of Greg Robinson’s Orangemen and the current state of the Syracuse football program are probably unprintable, even on the internet.

I’m not sure how old I was when I gave up on my ill-fated dream of playing centerfield for the Mets and realized that maybe I should be writing about sports instead. I have a vague memory of starting to write my first book when I was in sixth grade. Really. It was about hockey and I’m pretty sure all the characters were named after my sixth-grade classmates. I’m also pretty sure I never got past the first two pages. I also know that I started writing for newspapers in seventh grade, when I joined the staff of the Oakdale-Bohemia Junior High School “Penpoint”. Probably by then I knew that I really sucked as an athlete, but I knew I could write. I don’t ever recall wanting to do anything else, so I guess my desire to be a sportswriter goes back that far.

As for my experience at Newhouse, I’m not sure this is an opinion that’s going to get me the alumni club’s Man of the Year Award, but I left Syracuse way more impressed with the student newspaper than I was with the school. I definitely learned some things in my classes, and obviously education is invaluable. But I’d say 90% of what I learned about being a sportswriter, I learned from working at The Daily Orange, which I’m pretty sure is the only completely student-run daily newspaper in the country. Sitting in a class and learning how to write a lead or avoid a cliché is nothing compared to actually doing it. You can’t teach someone to be creative. You can’t discuss with them techniques for hitting tight deadlines, or cutting 300 words out of your story at midnight. You have to do all those things. A lot of it is trial and error. By working every day at “The D.O.” I found my voice and my rhythm in ways that the brilliant and well-intentioned professors at Newhouse never could have helped me do. I don’t mean to disparage the school or the people that teach there. But if you’re a writer, you can’t just sit in a classroom and learn about writing. You have to write. And thanks to The D.O., that’s what Syracuse allowed me to do.

MW: When you became the beat reporter for the Giants, did you find it difficult to separate the fan in you from the objective journalist you were trained to be? Is this something you still struggle with at times? If so, what was the experience of Super Bowl XLII like for you? Was there at least a little bit of cheering in the press box? And is there ever a situation in which it's appropriate for a beat reporter to act like a fan?

RV: I don’t think I ever really struggled with it, and it shouldn’t be difficult if you’re good at your job and professional about it. Plus, I’ve never thought being a fan was necessarily a bad thing. No, you can’t be a true fanatic and wear Giants clothing into the locker room, or stand up and cheer in the press box or high five the players. But being a Giants fan allows me to feel the joy and frustration that my readers feel, and to understand what different events and issues mean to them. I think that’s pretty important.

One of the best compliments I got in this business came at the end of my first year at the Daily News, when I was covering the Islanders – probably the least significant pro sports beat at the paper. My boss told me “You cover this team like you think it’s the Yankees.” His point was that I worked hard at it and made it seem important, even though in the big picture it probably wasn’t. That’s because I was an Islanders fan. Every win and loss was meaningful to me. Every little story line was significant to me. So I’d fight to get them in the paper because I knew the little stuff meant something to Islanders fans. And I think my readers appreciated that. In the same way, I don’t think I was a very good Devils beat writer for my three years on that beat, because I was completely unaffected by what the Devils did. When they won the Stanley Cup, I was excited to be covering it and I obviously knew it was important, but I didn’t feel the joy the way their fans did.

Now that I’m on the Giants, I really do totally relate to what Giants fans feel. I may not agree with them all the time (and certainly vice versa), but being a fan gives me a look at the perspective of my readers. And it definitely helped with the coverage of the whole Super Bowl XLII run. I knew the emotions Giants fans were feeling. I knew the frustrations from previous seasons, the doubts they had in Eli Manning and the team, the passion and excitement and pride they felt in the defense. It was probably very subtle, but I think my stories reflected that understanding.

Unfortunately for me, I didn’t get to experience any of that directly during the Super Bowl run. I’ve said many times before that I’m jealous of my Giants fans friends, who got to simply be fans during that wild, unexpected ride. I couldn’t do that. I had to work. I had to be focused on work. Sure, I marveled at what was happening and felt my nerves tingle occasionally. But my adrenaline couldn’t be channeled to a celebration. It had to be channeled towards the business at hand. So no, there was not even a little bit of cheering in the press box for me. As the final minutes of Super Bowl XLII was winding down and Giants fans were jumping out of the edge of their seats, I was simultaneously writing two game stories – one if the Giants came back and held on to win, and one if they didn’t. And then I was just trying to make sure I didn’t send in the wrong one.

MW: In his new book, A Team To Believe In, coach Coughlin wrote that prior to the 2007 season he held private, one-on-one meetings with various local beat reporters, in an effort to improve his relationship with the media. He mentions Neil Best of Newsday by name, but not the other reporters. Were you one of the reporters who met with Coughlin? If so, what was that meeting like? Was he as intense as one might imagine? And did the meeting have any effect on your professional relationship with coach Coughlin moving forward?

RV: Yes, I was one of the reporters and I thought those meetings were “off the record.” Funny, usually it’s the reporters who are accused of violating the “off the record” code (whatever that is). The meetings were strange. I really didn’t want to take part in it because they were designed to help Tom Coughlin form a better relationship with the media which, in turn, would help him keep his job. It’s not that I didn’t want him to keep his job. It’s just that, as a reporter, that should be of no interest or concern to me. My job is to cover Coughlin and his team, not to help him. If he gets fired or keeps his job, and how he does either is simply news for me to report. Reporters should stay out of the news at all costs and just report it. In this case, we were becoming part of the story.

I really believe that all the writers should have gotten together and said “No, this is not appropriate.” Because it wasn’t. Coughlin’s relationship with the press should have been irrelevant to the press. If he wanted a better one, that was up to him. It wasn’t up to me to go in and help him figure out how. However he acted, he was nothing more than a coach of a team I was covering. It should have stayed like that. Having said that, of course, I did go mostly because this is a competitive market and I didn’t want to be the only beat writer left out. It was scheduled for 30 minutes and I was there for more than an hour, and by then he had already had the discussion five or six times with others. It wasn’t tense or intense, it was an open an honest discussion. Tom did most of the talking while I was there, since he had already gotten an earful on the issues and he had responses prepared.

My only intention going in was to try to give him a better understanding of why the media was there. In his first three seasons, he treated us as a nuisance, with an alarming lack of respect, and a completely lack of understanding of our purpose. He had restricted access in every possible way and his press conferences were often nasty. I wanted to let him know that the reason we’re there and the reason we ask questions is to find out the truth and to relay the story of his team to the fans that pay his salary. If I ask him, “Why didn’t you call a pass there instead of a run?” it doesn’t mean I’m second-guessing him or calling him an idiot. It means I don’t know why he made that call, and I’m pretty sure the fans want to know, so I’m doing the responsible thing and asking. That’s my sole motivation. And I would think it’s in his best interests to have his side of the story out in the media, rather than let us make guesses all the time. I’m not sure he understood that before the meetings. That’s really our only intention every day. To get the truth. To give the readers the real story of what’s happening with the Giants. Not everything is a big conspiracy or an example of the media “trying to stir things up.” But I think that’s the way he saw us. He saw us as an invasion of his privacy. To an extent, he still does. But he’s less nasty about it.

My professional relationship with him is still the same, which is good, though there’s probably a little less of an edge to it. Now, is that because they’ve been winning or because of those meetings? I can’t really answer that. I guess we’ll know for sure the next time things are going badly.

MW: Your first book, Eli Manning: The Making of a Quarterback, was published recently by the good (and devastatingly handsome) people at Skyhorse Publishing. Congratulations. After having researched this book for four years and having covered every snap Eli Manning has taken as a professional quarterback, it's reasonable to assert that you now know more about him than any other journalist working today. So tell me, what's it going to take (short of another championship or an MVP-type season) for the national media to finally get on board with this kid and realize what kind of player he really is? There are a whole lot of writers out there who still aren't sold, who consider what happened back in January and February a fluke. Why do you think so many people want Eli to fail so badly?

RV: Well, first of all I disagree with the premise of your last question. But more on that in a moment. As for what he has to do to get everyone on board, I think more people are sold on him than you think. But the truth is all Eli Manning needs to win everyone over is one good, consistent season. He doesn’t need to rewrite the record books, he just needs to avoid the month-long (and longer) slumps that have often plagued him throughout his career. What he did during the Super Bowl run, even he describes that as “one good month.” In fact, he’s had better months, statistically. But they’ve always been followed not by a bad game, but by a string of bad games. Every quarterback has bad days, but Eli had a habit of stringing them together. He’d toss two interceptions and follow it with a 125-yard passing day, followed by a 39% completion day, followed by four interceptions. Then he’d have a 300-yard game, and then go back into the abyss. It was maddening to watch. Just when you started believing in him, he’d give you three reasons not to. Now this year he’s helped himself with a very strong start to the 2008 season. The real key will come when he has his first bad game. What does he do the following week? And the week after? Can he avoid the slump? If he does, and if his numbers continue to get better, everyone will start to believe.

And I don’t think that anyone wants him to fail. Maybe fans of the Redskins, Cowboys and Eagles, but if you’re talking about the media it's not about “want.” The issue has always been expectations. Because he was a Manning, because he was Accorsi’s hand-picked successor to the legends of Unitas and Elway, because he was a No. 1 pick, because the Giants traded four picks to get him, because he was in New York, because Ben Roethlisberger won a Super Bowl in his second season … because of all of that, Eli had to be great, not good, right from the start. Days after the Draft Day trade in 2004, people were already saying Eli had to win two Super Bowls to justify the trade. It’s ridiculous, but those are the standards by which he is measured. Even if you take away Super Bowl XLII, he has had a very good and very successful start to his NFL career. Unfortunately for him, for most people, it’s not good enough. And the truth is that some of those expectations are set so absurdly high that there will always be a few people that consider him a failure. My advice to everyone else is to ignore those people. The kid pulled off one of the most remarkable Super Bowl runs and Super Bowl upsets we’re likely to ever see. If that’s not enough, then your expectations really are way too high.

MW: Based on your interviews, observations and interactions with them, who would you say are the most intelligent Giants players you have covered in your twelve plus years on the beat? Conversely, which were the most, um, intellectually challenged?

RV: You know, it’s actually kind of hard to tell who the really smart ones are because most of my conversations over the years with players have centered around football. Some of them have certainly appeared to be very intelligent. Obviously Tiki Barber fancied himself to be smarter than the average football player, and that’s certainly the way he came off. Jason Sehorn was absolutely sure he was smarter than everybody. Kareem McKenzie, the current right tackle, seems to know a lot about a lot more than football. Actually, over the years, most of the offensive linemen I’ve covered have appeared to be very smart, well-rounded and well-spoken. And after researching all that goes into the quarterback position for this book, I’d have to put every quarterback that’s come through the Giants Stadium doors on the “most intelligent” list. The amount of things they have to learn and know would blow your mind.

I’m having a little trouble with this question, though, because it’s hard to separate actual intelligence from football intelligence. For example, I think Antonio Pierce has a brilliant football mind. He really understands the strategies and nuances of the game. But I have no idea how actually intelligent (whatever that means) he is. Plaxico Burress is another example. He doesn’t come off as being very smart, but he’s brilliant when it comes to breaking down and understanding opposing defenses. It’s also hard because in a locker room setting, it’s easy to mistake being soft-spoken or aloof for being dumb, which isn’t fair. Some guys are just quiet and are often unfairly labeled. I’ve pretty much done a nice job of tap-dancing around that question, haven’t I?

MW: You have taken your fair share of heat from Giants supporters over the years for some of your opinions, especially those related to former Giants tight end Jeremy Shockey. You've also taken some criticism for some of the more sensational headlines that have adorned your articles, such as the infamous "Eli the Terrible" one from last November. Beyond making the important clarification that editors, not reporters, write the headlines, how have you responded to your critics? And do their criticisms ever bother you?

RV: I have critics? I had no idea. Really, I thought everybody loved me.

Getting criticism is never fun, and anyone who tells you that they enjoy it, or even that it doesn’t bother them at all, is probably lying. But it’s part of the business and you learn to deal with it. My way of dealing with it has been to make sure I’m available to answer my critics. I answer every e-mail that I get. Sometimes it takes a while to sort through them, but everyone gets a response eventually. Even the nastiest e-mails that I get, I answer. Most of the time – but not all of the time – people seem surprised that I’ve written back, and their next e-mail is apologetic, or at least toned down. Some people are just nasty no matter what, and I give them their opportunity to rip me, but then eventually I tune them out. But I’m always happy to defend my position, explain my reasons for writing something, answer questions, or whatever. And sometimes I even concede the reader is right. Not all the time, but some of the time.

What really bothers me is the people who don’t bother to contact me. There are a lot of people that just like to talk tough on anonymous message boards and spout out things that aren’t true. Or they get angry when they don’t have the whole story. You mentioned the “Eli the Terrible” headline after last year’s Vikings game. The one that got me in the most trouble, actually, was the “Mad Plax” headline during Super Bowl week – when Plaxico Burress said he thought the Giants receivers were better than the Patriots receivers in some ways and it became front and back page news in the Daily News. Well, my story was completely fair and accurate (even Burress acknowledged that), but the headline was way too big, misleading and out of context. And not only do I not write the headlines, but I was furious about it. Anyone who bothered to e-mail me found that out.

As for my opinions on Shockey … well, I think my readers expect and appreciate my honesty. I thought he was a disruptive influence on Eli Manning, a bad guy, and what he did during the offseason (basically forcing a trade by throwing tantrums) was child-like behavior and the Giants are better off without him. I’m not going to not tell you that just so I don’t bother people. I’m going to tell you what I think. And if someone’s bothered by that, they can feel free to e-mail me and debate the point. It could even be a fun exchange. But I’m not going to shy away from that opinion if the subject comes up. And unfortunately, the subject will come up because how the Giants play without Shockey is one of the more important storylines, in my opinion, this year.

MW: As a journalist who has one foot in the print world (beat reporter) and the other in the online world (blogger), what do you make of the semi-recent clash between Friday Night Lights author Buzz Bissinger and former Deadspin.com editor Will Leitch over the future of sports journalism and the role of blogs? Do you, like former Chicago Sun-Times columnist Jay Marriotti, believe that print is a dying medium? Or do you believe that newspapers, in their present state, can be saved despite their limitations in what has become a true, 24-hour sports news cycle?

RV: I saw that exchange between Bissinger and Leitch, and I completely agree with the points Bissinger was trying to make. I just wish he made them in a more professional manner. If his point was that blogs too often show a lack of professionalism and dignity, by resorting to cheap shots, bad language and lots of innuendo … well, he certainly showed that he’s capable of getting down in that mud and muck, too. His point should have been that there are some extremely talented writers online who are becoming more “mainstream” (whatever that is) every day. But they do themselves a disservice when they resort to the cheap laugh or sophomoric humor instead of making an intelligent point. Sometimes those blogs and websites – including Deadspin – come off as mean-spirited, as if their entire purpose is to be nasty and embarrass someone. That’s probably why they’re so popular, but I can’t respect them when they do that. I would argue it’s pretty easy to sit in your basement and take basically anonymous shots at people when you don’t have to actually face them. Anybody can do it. And that’s being proven by the massive number of similar websites that seem to pop up all around.

The newspaper business is a struggling and changing industry, not a dying one. It was very late in adjusting to the modern world, and is only now beginning to realize what it has to do. Small newspapers are dying and the bigger ones are seeing a drop in circulation, so they’re focusing more attention on the internet. At the Daily News, we do blogs, video reports, audio reports, live chats, and whenever there’s breaking news it immediately goes up on the website and is updated several times throughout the day. It’s a ton more work for the writers (for not a dime more in pay) but those of us who are good at and care about our jobs are willing to do it. And newspapers still employ the reporters that get the news for everyone else. Kill off all the newspapers and where will Deadspin get its information? What will Jay Marriotti have to yell about on TV? The people in the Giants locker room every single day are still the newspaper reporters, and that’s true with every team and every sport. And it’s even more true in news departments, where the newspaper reporters are the ones talking to government officials, digging through records, and doing important investigative work. Without newspapers, there would be a lot less going on for people on TV and the internet to talk about. The industry definitely had to change to survive. But it’s far from dead.

MW: It's no secret that despite their denials, a lot of players read the papers. And they're not going to like everything they read. As a result, have you ever had any heated confrontations with players in the locker room, similar to the Antonio Pierce air horn or Michael Strahan donut incidents from the past few seasons? If so, please share. If not, feel free to relay the story of a particularly entertaining (or scary) confrontation you might have witnessed. Did it ever get Bonilla/Klapisch in there?

RV: Well, first of all, I was there for both of those Giants incidents and neither was close to approaching what I’m told the Bonilla-Klapisch episode was. That, apparently, was ugly and scary. The Strahan and Pierce things were also much different. Antonio Pierce was really, seemingly just trying to have some fun. Strahan was angry (by the way, it was peanut butter and jelly spewing from his mouth, not a donut), but he wasn’t physically threatening the reporter (Kelly Naqi from ESPN).

Personally, I’ve had only three times that I can recall a player getting angry with me and confronting me over something that appeared in the paper. One was a story on the poor play of the Giants’ defense that angered Strahan. It turned out that what really angered him, though, was that he was pictured with the story, which he somehow took as a sign that the story was all about him. I explained that I had no input into what picture ran with the story and that the story was fair, and that was it. Another incident was after a story I wrote at the end of Coughlin’s first tumultuous season. I interviewed a bunch of Giants about whether free agents would want to come to New York after reading and hearing all the horror stories about Coughlin and most of them said they were worried that his reputation would scare players off. The lead quote was from Amani Toomer, and the headline ended up being something like “Toomer: Nobody will play for Tom.” Amani was mad, and he was right to be mad. He was one of about five players I quoted, and that wasn’t even what he said. It was a terrible headline, but I think he eventually understood that I didn’t write the headline. The third was the famous “Mad Plax” incident. On Super Bowl media day, I asked Burress a question about how he’s not afraid to say what’s on his mind, and he ripped into my editors for that headline. I was actually pretty impressed. A lot of people don’t believe me when I say “I don’t write the headlines,” but he understood and knew who to target.

The common thread in those three instances is that while the players were angry, they were never physically threatening or obviously trying to intimidate. They were very professionally expressing their anger. And I welcomed that. In fact, I wish more players would. Much like I’d rather a reader e-mail me than post something anonymously on a fan site, I’d rather have a player confront me than privately stew about something I wrote. I’m happy to admit if I’m wrong. Really. And I might even run a correction (which is much easier to do now that I have a blog). I welcome any discussion or debate of the issues. I want to get things right, and if I don’t I should be told that I didn’t.

Oh, that reminds me, I forgot one other confrontation. It was in Tom Coughlin’s first or second training camp. I wrote a story about how, after a preseason game, Coughlin wasn’t pleased and he was more interested in the things his team did wrong in that game. The headline on the story was: "Tom Focuses On The Negative." Coughlin was mad and said something to me. I told him that writers don’t write their own headlines. He said, “A writer told me that 15 years ago. It was a lie then, and it’s a lie now.” Some people, I guess, are never going to believe me.

MW: It has been well documented here on this site that my father has held Giants season tickets since 1964. This is his 45th year. With the new stadium set to open for business in 2010, my father and countless other long-standing season ticket holders are now facing the harsh reality of exorbitant Personal Seat Licenses. In our case, we're going to have to come up with $40,000 if we want four comparable seats in the new building. Others will have to pay even more. Considering how much the Giants and Jets stand to make in naming rights, sponsorships and other new revenues generated by the new stadium, do you think that the Giants made the right decision to charge PSLs, or is this just another example of corporate greed? Sports as big business. Additionally, how do you think the Giants might have handled this situation differently if Wellington Mara was still alive?

RV: This is an enormous example of corporate greed and I think things would be much, much different if Wellington Mara were still alive. First of all, let’s call it like it is. The Giants and Jets aren’t selling PSLs to help them cover the costs of a new stadium. They’re selling PSLs to ensure that they’re going to make an enormous profit with the new stadium. They could cover the costs of construction with loans, advertising, naming rights, ticket prices, suite sales, and dozens of other revenue streams. But they wouldn’t be able to make hundreds of millions of dollars in profits by doing that. Now, it’s their right to make a profit. But they do it at the expense of people like you and your father. So loyalty – something Wellington Mara was famous for – is now gone. Greed is in. That’s fine. But like I said, let’s just call it like it is.

Having said that, I have two thoughts on this. The first is that I think PSLs are a scam and should be outlawed. It’s a ripoff for fans that you have to pay for the right to pay for tickets. Where else is that practice acceptable? You wouldn’t pay for the right to buy a car, or pay for the right to shop at a grocery store, would you? But they’re counting that you’re so emotionally tied to the Giants that you’ve got no choice. It’s not like you can say “Screw them. I’m a Jets fan now.” Sports fans are stuck, and the owners know it. So rather than thank their loyal customers, they’re going to take advantage of you instead.

My second thought is one you’re not going to like, though: It’s life. Prices go up. Way up. And just because you’ve had tickets for 45 years doesn’t mean you have a right to have them at a low cost for a 46^th. It’s hard, but think of it from the perspective of someone on the waiting list who has been waiting for decades. This is the free-market system giving him a shot to finally get Giants tickets. If people are willing to pay $40,000 for two seats, why shouldn’t the Giants charge that? They’ve done their research. They know they could’ve charged $40,000 for every seat in the stadium and they still would’ve sold out. The demand is that high. And in every other business, people are allowed to charge what consumers are willing to pay. Plus, don’t you have the opportunity to move upstairs for $38,000 less? Who says you have the right to first-level seats forever? I used to sit in the Field Box at Shea all the time. Now I can barely afford the upper deck. Who knows what I’ll be able to afford when the Mets move to CitiField? But that’s life. My choice is pay it or don’t pay it. Complaining about it is pointless when plenty of people are willing to shell out unreasonable bucks.

It’s not that I’m unsympathetic to your plight. I think it sucks. I’m a fan, too. I pay to go to non-Giants events. I think the fan – the loyal, middle-class fan – is being constantly screwed. And because of that, I doubt our children will grow up to be sports fans like we were. When I was in high school, my friend s and I would take the train to Shea and see the Mets every Saturday they were home. Tickets were $5. How can kids today do that when the lowest-priced ticket is probably at least $20, maybe more? So I understand. It’s wrong and the owners should be ashamed of themselves for what they’re doing. I just see both sides. There’s no doubt sports fans are getting totally screwed. But really, sports owners are just catching up to the rest of the world with their screwing. It is what it is, as someone famous once said. The only way to stop it is to stop paying to go to games. And so far, fans in general haven’t been willing to take that drastic step.

An Open Letter to Giants Fans

2008-09-02T22:26:00.040-04:00

Dear Giants fans,

Please step back from the ledge. Everything is going to be okay.

Yes, Osi Umenyiora is out for the season with a torn meniscus in his left knee and Michael Strahan isn't coming to the rescue by unretiring, but the Giants defense is going to be just fine. In fact, it's going to be better than fine. I promise.

Sure, it's never a good thing when a football team loses its two best defensive players in less than three months, especially when both players are team leaders. It's hard enough to repeat as champions in the salary cap era as it is. But now, with the loss of Umenyiora, the Giants enter the 2008 season without five of their defensive starters from the Super Bowl team (Umenyiora, Strahan, Kawika Mitchell, Reggie Torbor, and Gibril Wilson) that heroically held New England's record-setting offensive juggernaut to just fourteen points back in February. Together, those five players combined for 209 tackles, six interceptions, and twenty-six and a half sacks last season--more than half of the team's league-leading total. Their replacements, whether they be young players emerging from within the roster or newcomers acquired through the draft or free agency, are going to have a tough time matching those numbers this year. I fully concede that.

But let's not act like the Giants don't have significant depth and talent throughout the defensive roster.

The lone Pro Bowler on a championship team, it will be extremely difficult for the Giants to match Umenyiora's sack production this season. But make no mistake--Mathias Kiwanuka (pictured above mauling a middling quarterback) is a beast, folks. He's a natural pass rusher returning to his best-suited position at end, where he excelled as a rookie two seasons ago (44 tackles, 4 sacks, 2 interceptions in nine starts) after injuries to both Umenyiora and Strahan forced him into full-time action.

In addition to his outstanding pass rushing instincts, Kiwanuka has the kind of freakish athleticism that enables him to play standing up and to cover receivers (something Umenyiora and Strahan struggled with at times). These unusual physical gifts, which enabled the Giants to convert him to a linebacker last season, also make it possible for defensive coordinator Steve Spagnuolo to mix up his coverages and to disguise his blitzes, which come from everywhere. And while Kiwanuka may not be as strong as Umenyiora at the point of contact, he is, at 6'5, 265--believe it or not--bigger and heavier than him and his equal (if not his superior) in the speed department. A true sack threat coming off the edge, Kiwanuka has also not shown himself to be a liability against the run, containing plays by holding his corner ably.

"It is something that Kiwi, all of us, really, wanted," emerging star Justin Tuck told Dave Eisen of Giants.com regarding Kiwanuka's return to the defensive line, "but obviously we didn't want these circumstances for him to get back in that [meeting] room," It is a good thing for him; it is a good thing for this team. He is definitely a D lineman at heart, and hopefully he can just come back and not miss a beat."

Like their superstar forebears Umenyiora and Strahan, the largely unheralded tandem of Kiwanuka and Tuck form one of the most formidable pairs of young, pass rushing ends in the National Football League. This is precisely why the Giants inked Tuck to a five-year, thirty million dollar extension back in January--a deal which included $16 million in guaranteed money. This, several weeks before he went out and dominated the Super Bowl.

And as those of you who watched Super Bowl XLII know, Tuck is kind of a scary dude. At 6'5, 275, he is big and strong enough to line up at either end or tackle, yet quick enough to beat offensive linemen off the ball with his speed. And he's relentless in pursuit, posessing a motor that simply refuses to quit. As a key reserve the past few seasons, Tuck brought an intensity to the defense that energized the entire unit, and the Giants are confident that he will only continue to impress with starter's reps in 2008 and beyond.

This is a confidence that Tuck shares with his employers, as he has set high expectations for himself this season.

"I have individual goals like making the Pro Bowl, being an All-Pro and leading the team in sacks," Tuck told Ken Palmer of the Giant Insider. "But I’m more of a guy that sets goals as far as being the best defense, leading the league in sacks as a defensive line, things like that."

These are comments that underscore how Tuck, in only his fourth year, has already taken on--along with veterans Antonio Pierce, Fred Robbins and Sam Madison--a leadership role on the defense. And the one thing he has stressed all offseason in the interviews he's given is that he's not going to let this team rest on the accomplishments of last season.

"We really don’t put too much emphasis on what we did last year," Tuck told Palmer. "That doesn’t mean a hill of beans now. We’re looking forward to talking it one step at a time. We realize we’re going to get everybody’s best shot but we like it like that. I want to play teams that want to knock me off. And that brings the best out of me also. I think the reason why we’re going to be successful is because of our leadership, our coaching staff and because we really have a good group of guys that get it."

Considering how Spagnuolo and defensive line coach Mike Waufle like to rotate players, keeping the starters fresher late in games, it's critically important that everyone "gets" it.

"Nobody I've played for has had a defense like this that is ever-evolving, that takes you on a journey," newly acquired veteran safety Sammy Knight told Thomas George of NFL.com. "One door of it opens to another door of possibilities. It has variety in blitzes and variety in everything it does. It's a press, it's a zone blitz, it's a man attack, with all principles in one. It's like a germ that spreads. It can be what we want it to be. We can take it again to a great place."

One of the reasons Knight and his teammates believe they can take it to that "great place" is the Giants depth on the defensive side of the football, and the confidence the defensive coaches have placed on their valuable reserves.

Perhaps you've watched this clip a time or two over the past few months? Lord knows I have. If not, that large gentleman owning Tom Brady in the clip is Jay Alford, last year's third-round selection out of Penn State University. A seldom-used reserve defensive tackle last season, he is expected to see an increased role in the rotation behind Barry Cofield and Fred Robbins--the unit's captain--this year, using the confidence gained from his Super Bowl experience to make further strides towards improvement in his second professional season.

Also expected to make strides this season is little known end Dave Tollefson, who showed flashes in limited action after being signed off the Raiders' practice squad last October, including significant contributions down the stretch against both Tampa Bay and Dallas in the playoffs.

"He affected (Tony) Romo on one play and on another play he made a great effort to prevent a first down," Waufle told Mike Garofolo of the Newark Star-Ledger. "He was effective in the fourth quarter in that game."

If Alford and Tollefson's limited sample size concerns you, be comforted in knowing that other, more experienced reinforcements have also been brought into the fold this season, including versatile veteran Renaldo Wynn (most recently of Washington) and just released Eagles defensive end Jerome McDougle, the player who, back in 2004, gave Eli Manning his "welcome to the NFL" moment. Both players are sure to be inspired to exact a measure of revenge against their former employers--both fierce division rivals--when they face them this season.

In the back seven, the losses of Mitchell, Torbor, and Wilson will not hurt as badly as many of the national pundits have predicted in their short-sighted preseason analyses. All three players left via free agency for significantly more money than the Giants were willing to pay them, and while each played an important role last season, none were irreplaceable.

Obviously, teams never want to lose both of their outside linebackers at once, but as is the case with the defensive line, the Giants have other options at linebacker which they have confidence in.

The jury's still out on third-year linebacker Gerris Wilkinson, but there was no way the Giants were going to pay Kawika Mitchell--a one-year stopgap last season--the $17.5 million Buffalo threw at him. Beyond that, it's time for the Giants to finally learn exactly what they have in the enigmatic former third-round pick out of Georgia Tech. Wilkinson has started only two games for the Giants in as many seasons, but enjoyed an excellent game (8 tackles) in the playoffs at Tampa starting in place of a gimpy Mitchell last year. He is also reported to be the best linebacker the Giants have in pass coverage, so it will be interesting to see how he fares against Pro Bowl tight end Chris Cooley on Thursday night. It remains to be seen whether or not Wilkinson can perform at a high level on a consistent basis, but the Giants coaches, including linebackers coach Bill Sheridan, appear to be high on him. A precipitous drop-off from the quality of Mitchell's play is not anticipated.

Kiwanuka's switch from linebacker to end also leaves a hole to be filled on the strong-side, where the Giants believe newly acquired veteran Danny Clark, most recently of Houston, will fit in nicely. Clark, a seventh round draft choice of the Jacksonville Jaguars in 2000, is the first former Coughlin player to rejoin him in New York. A nine-year veteran with 66 career starts under his belt, Clark has experience playing all three linebacker positions and comes to New York with a reputation for being an excellent special teams player as well. That's exactly that kind of versatility that will help him excel in Spagnuolo's ever-changing defense.

The depth behind Wilkinson and Clark may not be as strong as what the Giants will rotate up front, but Chase Blackburn and Zak DeOssie have both proven themselves to be capable backups and special teams contributors in the past. In addition to them, rookies Bryan Kehl (who had an outstanding first camp) and Jonathan Goff will also likely see action this season.

For years considered its weakest link, the Giants defensive backfield is perhaps its deepest unit heading into 2008. Losing Gibril Wilson, the team's top safety, certainly hurts, but not as much as it hurt Raiders' owner Al Davis' checkbook ($39 million over six seasons, with $16 million guaranteed). Wilson is a good player who made some big plays for the Giants during their run to the Super Bowl, but let's not kid ourselves--he is not even close to being a $39 million dollar talent. In his place, the Giants will open the season with Michael Johnson, one of their two seventh round picks from last season (Ahmad Bradshaw being the other), at free safety. The oft-maligned yet consistently solid James Butler returns as the starting strong safety.

Johnson is likely just keeping the seat warm for this year's first-round pick, the dynamic Kenny Phillips out of the University of Miami, though. The 6'2, 210 pound Phillips is the latest in an impressive line of outstanding safeties from "The U" which includes 2004 AP NFL Defensive Player of the Year Ed Reed and the late Sean Taylor. Judging by his performance in camp and in the preseason, Phillips looks to be an absolute steal as the 31st and final pick in the first round.

It hasn't taken Phillips long to catch the eye of his teammates and coaches, either.

"Looking at him, I definitely see a special player," safeties coach Dave Merritt told Ralph Vacchiano of the New York Daily News. "I truly believe that he is going to be a special one. Athletically, Kenny is without a doubt one of the best I've seen. The kid has unbelievable range. He can get from the middle of the field to the sideline just like that."

“You don’t like playing against guys like that,” Plaxico Burress, the Giants' top wide receiver, told Joshua Robinson of The New York Times. “They can be in the middle of the field, the quarterback can look him off, throw to the other side of the field, and he’s right there to put his helmet under your chin or pick the football off. There’s only a few guys in the league that can do things like that."

Instead of opening the vault to retain Wilson, the Giants went out in free agency and signed Knight as insurance against Butler and Johnson. Knight, a twelve year veteran and former Pro Bowl selection, ranks third among all active players in interceptions, having amassed 42 picks in 168 starts for New Orleans, Miami, Kansas City, and Jacksonville. He, along with veteran corners Sam Madison and R.W. McQuarters, should be able to mentor the Giants young defensive backs as they step into larger roles this season.

Combined, the four safeties the Giants will bring into 2008 are slated to earn just $19.1 million over the length of their contracts, less than half of what Wilson will be earning out in Oakland. And considering how the sky appears to be the limit for young Kenny Phillips, the Giants certainly seem to have made a wise move by letting Wilson go. He was a good Giant and will be missed, but his departure is a reminder that football is a business, and that teams have to do what makes the most long-term business sense for their ball clubs.

At corner, the team boasts some legitimately quality depth this season. The playmaking Aaron Ross (last year's first-round pick)--who had three interceptions in nine starts as a rookie last season (including the Super Bowl)--returns as a full-time starter this season opposite Corey Webster, who not only resucitated his career last season but who also, through his outstanding play throughout the playoffs, is playing with as much confidence as he ever has in his three seasons in blue. If both Ross and Webster can build on their individual success of last season, they might be able to emerge as one of the best young corner tandems in the league. Go figure.

And because the NFL is a week-to-week league in which every starter is one play away from injured reserve, the Giants have solid veteran depth behind Ross and Webster as well. Sam Madison (a four-time Pro Bowler in Miami) and R.W. McQuarters enter the 2008 season with a combined 21 years of NFL experience, 51 interceptions, and both will undoubtedly see plenty of playing time this season. Rounding out the DB corps behind them are the fleet-footed yet raw Kevin Dockery and this year's second-round pick, the talented yet oft-injured Terrell Thomas from the University of Southern California.

With that kind of depth up and down the defensive roster, it's no wonder the Giants and their coaches are confident.

"We are crisper now than we were at this time last year," Madison told George. "We're in the second year with our defensive coaches and with this system. But this year's Giants defense is really up in the air. Everybody is speculating right now. For many of our young guys, this is their time. I don't know how good we are going to be or what we are going to do. But I know we won't be sitting back trying to find out. We'll be on the attack."

Amen, brother. No Osi, no Strahan, no Wilson, no Mitchell, no Torbor.... no problem! This is a defense with enough playmakers and depth to make things happen, and with Coach Spagnuolo dialing up his unique brand of blitzes and coverages, Giants fans can expect big things out of this unit again in 2008.

Like Michael Strahan told the Giants offensive lineman before they headed out for their final drive of the Super Bowl: "Believe it and it will happen." Yes, Big Blue can be great again this year, regardless of what all the "experts" are saying.

So please, Giants fans, I beg of you. Step back from the ledge. Until further notice, the Giants are world champs, and we might as well enjoy it as long as we can.

_____________________________________________________

NFL.com: A Giant reminder: Best offense is a good defense
Giants.com: On the Line
Newark Star-Ledger: New York Giants DE Dave Tollefson cherishes each moment on the field
New York Daily News: Kenny Phillips a Giant Shock at Safety
New York Times: Phillips Takes Guesswork Out at Safety for the Giants