I’m so glued to the TV when watching NFL RedZone that I won’t even tend to my inexplicably fluctuating thermostat. After a 6.5 hour session, I have both hard nipples and pit stains. But as we all should know, you don’t mess with a junkie when he’s getting his high.
I’ve never tried Meth, but I’ve pretty much simulated a continuous intravenous coffee drip, and I’ll assume that watching NFL RedZone is effectually somewhere in between.
The whole Sunday afternoon experience is so overstimulating and intense that it wipes my mind clean except for just two thoughts:
Thought Number One:
I imagine that if I watched NFL RedZone next to Michael Bay, we’d probably both explode.
Thought Number Two:
If the Zombie Apocalypse began while RedZone was on, I’d probably get my face eaten with little to no resistance.
I remember back in 1993 watching one game at a time. Luckily I got to see Barry Sanders play 16+ times a year (except in 1993, when he only played 11) being in the Detroit media market. But I knew back then as a bowl-cutted 9 year old that that wasn’t enough to get my fix. So I put up with Chris Berman and all of Tom Jackson’s references to the “Orange Crush” defense and watched Sunday NFL Primetime just as religiously. I went to school Monday-Friday with the NFL Primetime montage music stuck in my head, but as a football addled 9 year old, I didn’t know any better. So I’d slip back into the routine of watching my Lions and getting refilled with simplistic pun-heavy nicknames just like I had the Sunday previous. The only two players I really could connect with were Barry Sanders and Wesley Walls, and this was most likely due to a narrow range of programming. Those were rough times.
Those were times when only a Sunday drunk had the potential to watch 6 games at a time. And in order to get them all in, he’d need the peripheral vision of Joe Namath while sitting in the best seat at the bar.
But now, with NFL RedZone, watching 6 games at once isn’t only possible, it’s becoming the norm.
It’s the feeling that you can see everything, and that everything you see is unfolding live.
NFL RedZone perfectly plagues on our want for instant absorption of the world around us, which is convenient in these times of information overload. We have the technology, and we shouldn’t have to wait for anything. Sitting through a quarter-day saga of RedZone makes you both praise how far media delivery has come, and makes you criticize anything that isn’t just as instantly gratifying.
But you take the good with the bad, and in the case of NFL RedZone, and in my opinion, the good is much greater than the bad.
Now let’s get into this recap:
Welcome to a collection of notes jotted from a week of Football that was maximized for viewing time. Three of the 1 o’clock games were roughly four hours long, and many of the other games were also enthralling as bar tabs across the country exploded and weekend warriors were held captive within the ass grooves of their couches.
As usual, here are a few topics, a few expansions, and a few attempts at rousing a laugh from your beergut’s center of mass.
Music City Miracle 2
How ironic was it that Music City Miracle 2 happened just a few moments after C.J. Spiller went down for the Bills? Are the Bills perpetually hexed by an unknown chapter in some medieval book of witch craft? Don’t believe in witch craft? Then how do you explain the catches made by Nate Washington and the ironically named Titus Young Sr.?
Automatron Alert: Jason Hanson
Two weeks ago, I thought Peyton Manning may be a hybrid cyborg. This week, I turn my conspirator’s eye to Jason Hanson. The ridiculous production from his position coupled with the CPU-like precision and accuracy has me on high alert. Considering all of the missed field goals by kickers not named Unit #5430... I mean, Jason Hanson, this seems to be a valid allegation.
Little Orphan Andy, Dalton
What a crazy game for this orange-haired Bengal. First, he throws a pick-six in his own endzone, then he devastates the Redskins secondary like Jay Leno at a buffet table.
There Is No Free Lunch In The NFL
Good luck if you were still afloat in your eliminator pool until you went with San Francisco. Minnesota sent the hounds and got up 17-3 at the half and barely took time to look back. Harbaugh more than likely made a few players cry and bloodied a water boy in the locker room after being down by 14, and it received a brief positive response from his players. Knowing Harbaugh’s aggressive nature, there is no doubt he’s liable to do it again, even if it involves seeing a Make-a-Wish kid receive a beatdown. You don’t cross a Harbaugh brother, and you don't question his motivational tactics.
Jets Defense Very Rex Ryan Like
Even if his twin brother appears to get his hair cut by a dog groomer, Rex Ryan appears to have his defensive philosophy firmly in place in week 3. A pick-six here, a forced fumble there, and a cameo appearance by everyone’s favorite Evangelical, Tim Tebow, and the Jets are slowly ascending to relevance.
Stafford And Johnson, A 1-2 Punch Like Joe Louis
This is something that Seattle/Oklahoma City Thunder fans deal with throughout their season. Their principal gripe being, “why don’t they just keep feeding the ball to Durant?” As a Detroit fan, a similar statement becomes popularized: “why don’t they just keep feeding the ball to Calvin Johnson?” In both instances, both stars are virtually unstoppable, and in both instances good things usually happen when they can get the ball delivered to them. Up until your coach (Jim Schwartz) whom weirdly resembles Mike Munchak puts the ball in the hands of a replacement (Keanu Reeves) and goes for the throat but misses the jugular.
A Thought About Greg Schiano
Was he contacted during the Rudy casting call?
No Call-outs From Cutler
Cutler just relied on his cannon arm and sneaky wheels this week. He did get lit-up a couple times, but his blood sugar remained stable, so there was no need to get angry.
MJD Finally Back To Form
Maurice Jones-Drew proved he was worth every penny of that new contract he didn’t sign. Returning the investment in week 3 to fantasy owners and exploding like a horny frat boy during intercourse with a slump breaker.
Cowboys Don’t Have An Easy Time
Contrary to what seemed to be said by every single prognosticator, the ‘Boys had a tough go against the Bucs. Romo threw a pick, got smashed in sandwich fashion, and literally experienced how the Bucs defense can give you a headache. Notice how I didn’t use the phrase “Victory Formation” until just now.
Tony Gonzalez, Professional TE
This endzone buzzard hawk has been a fantasy football powerhouse for about 20 years now. Although he now settles for jumpers instead of dunks after TD’s, there’s nothing that goes against the fact that TG is solid.
Matt Schaub Went Deeper Than Lex Steele
First the deep ball to Johnson (giggling), and then the bomb to Walter (no sexual joke possible). This is possibly the first “Are the Texans for real?” game. That’s if, of course, the Broncos are for real.
Speaking Of “For Real”
Here’s a team that is for real: the Arizona Cardinals formerly of Phoenix routing the Eagles (a 2-0 team coming in that beat the Ravens on the road) after beating the Seahawks (who might be pretty good), and the Patriots at Gillette. The most impressive resumes so far are in the portfolios of the Cardinals and Falcons.
The Shoulder Is The New Spearing Helmet
With the enforcement of helmet-to-helmet rules in year 2, the players look to be putting the changes to practice pretty well. But now, the shoulder is the new battering ram, and they’re getting pretty good at using that. Next week, take notice of all of the shoulder-first hockey-style hits, you’ll probably be surprised at how they’ve been forced to prevalence.
The Falcons Receiving Core
Is their gamble in trading-up for Julio Jones beginning to report dividends? Their offense seems to be incredibly balanced with the running of Turner, the receiving of Jones, White, and Gonzalez and the dual-threat of Jacquizz Rodgers. All weapons of differing scope, and all reachable with the arm of Ryan.
It’s Good-ski!
A good day was had by Sebastian Janikowski and the Oakland Raiders. Never saying die, and hanging in there just like Al Davis and Art Shell would’ve wanted. Making sure to get the final field goal attempt placed down on the grass so Seabass could send it between the uprights. Even if he had to pick from a set of three.
