The Extra P_int is more than three thousand miles from New York City, and further from Boston or any other part of New England, yet that deterred no one there from cheering passionately for either the Giants or the Patriots.
Good thing, too. Neither team provided any of their own passion. Passion has little or nothing to do with success in the National Football League. Success in the NFL is the team that is best at executing their conservative game plan with the fewest mistakes. Passion gets in the way of blocking and tackling technique; of running precise pass routes, and throwing the spot-on ten to fifteen yard down field pass. No wonder so many SEC players make it to the NFL. Football at this level is craft with none of the art.
Uninspired, yet precise power football, is boring. As I watched the Super Bowl, I found myself longing for the Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives marathon the P_int showed during the BCS championship game. By the end of the close pro game that failed to engage my interest, I had found something else to make me glad I had ventured into the afternoon and spent four hours in the Extra P_int.
I found the Charger girls, or more precisely they found me, as they bought gin and tonics in wine glasses because they only drink out of glasses with long stems. I asked why and they said it is what ladies do. Even on their fourth trip to the bar the wine glasses represented what ladies do. The Charger girls are in their seventies. They are widows. They proudly display diamond rings worn on their little fingers – not on their ring fingers – and not far below the load of bling on their wrists and forearms. They rooted loudly and endlessly for the Giants. When asked why, they said they hate the Patriots because they usually beat the Chargers out of the play-offs. They also dislike Belichick because he lied after the New York Jets videotaping incident.
The “Ex-Pats” were there, too. They dislike the Patriots because they don’t really represent Boston, at least not the way the Celtics, Bruins, and Red Sox, do. In the mind of the Ex-Pats Boston teams are in Boston and named Boston. The Ex-Pats have neither sympathy nor understanding of the decades old reasons that made the local pro football team choose to be known as the New England anythings and to have a home field anywhere other than downtown Boston. Practical matters like no field and nowhere to build one mean nothing. They revel in their Ex-Pat-ness and root for the Giants.
Looking around, I saw how little the revelry had to do with football. Betting pools bloomed from every corner; more faces turned toward the screens when the commercials played than during the game, and cheers and boos reached their crescendos when the score changed near the end of a quarter redefining the winners and losers of the many pools. Football was the excuse and not the reason for the party. It was not love of the game.
One table caught my eye. Four large men solemnly watched the screen. Between plays they turned to each other and talked with a lot of hand motions that cut the air in what I decided were either pass routes or pursuit angles depending on the plays. They only watched the replays that involved missed assignments and the few mistakes that either team made in the cool executions of their game plans. If I were a big spender I would have bought the table a round.
I dislike the Woody Hayes days of four yards and a cloud of dust. The triple option was my mid-desert oasis. Chip Kelly’s offense at Oregon that consumes yardage in huge chunks is balm to my flagging interest in the game I still love. Defense should never dominate. It should slow and capitalize on mistakes, but not shut offenses down. Three and out is boring.
I love the art of football. I love misdirection and daring. I love the ninety yards up the middle run and the sixty yard pass play that work because you sold the defense on something else. Pro analysts say college tactics will never work in the pro game but there is no desire on coaches part to try. Audacious offenses get coaches fired. It is safer job security to do what everyone else is doing even if you don’t do it all that well.
The Extra P_int’s presentation of Super Bowl whatever wound up not being a waste of my time. Instead it validated my belief that if you take the corn chips and salsa out of the Super Bowl, if you take the Bloody Marys and hearty ales out of the game, or outlaw the pools, no one beyond a geographical allegiance really cares.
Does anyone out there think that any NFL game could compete in excitement with an Oregon v. Oklahoma State game? Not a fair question because the only thing the pro game and the versions played by the two college teams have in common is the ball, but still, does anyone think the pro game could hold a candle to the lightening quick college game? No.
Let’s hear it for sports fans like the Charger girls and the burly bruisers at their table. Let’s hear it for the pools and the salsa bowls. Let’s hear it for sports fans everywhere who want something to talk and read about that won’t get them divorced, fired, run out of town, or ex-communicated. There’s a stool for all of us at the Extra P_int. See you there.
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