All Dogs Go To Heaven

My Mom told me never to talk to strangers. But I had to break the rule this one time. New York City was buzzing, all of the heels of his decision to rip apart our unusually flaccid defense.

Plus, I wasn't talking to one person in particular. My sordid cheers were being transmitted to the entire world.

MICHAEL VICK HAS RETURNED.

A simple tweet, no? I had it resting in my queue, but declined to share it with the masses. It was too straightforward, too easy, too matter-of-fact. What's the point of adding more junk food to an online society craving fiber? Of course he's playing well. My eyes can tell me that.

Plus, that would be an admission of his departure. And I'm not so sure that's the case.

Thanks to a 24-7 sports news cycle, stories once buried now have more shelf life. There's more inches to squeeze, more storylines to cover, and more empty web pages to fill. Vick, being the polarizing figure that he is, begs for more coverage and more footage. Even though he was gone for almost two years, it felt like he never left.

Is Vick training in jail? Does he need protection? Why did he go to jail for 23 months when some killers of humans go free in less time? Who's going to sign him once he's free? Will he ever play professional football AGAIN? Should I wear my Vick #7 jersey outside?

All the while, Vick served his penance. Amazingly, he stayed in game shape. His desire for greatness never receded, and is only now complimented by a hope for acceptance. Vick doesn't play through those ancient shadows, but as a new man, his challenge is creating a new legacy.

Through fifteen weeks, Vick's been stellar. He's en route to crush his career-high marks in passing (20) and rushing TD's (8). He's already make light work of the outdated passer rating stat (103.5). And he's got his team sitting in the driver's seat of their division (NFC East).

Sure, I get it. He oversaw dogs getting skulls smashed into concrete. The jury's still out on his resurgence. PETA probably still sends letter to the Eagles brass declaring his guilt. But Vick did the crime, and Vick did the time. Everybody deserves a second-chance. Even a dog killer.

Michael Vick is the undisputed MVP. And I dare you to challenge me on it.

M.B., II

You're The Best...Around! (NFL, Part 2)

I knew I should've made this a combo post from the jump.

I know, I know. I promised you that I'd be back with Part 2 like, yesterday. I ain't gonna front. I knew ahead of time that we'd be going hard on a serious back-to-back, but I thought I'd find time to squeeze in another post during the off-peak cool down. I didn't want to intimidate you guys with a monster 1,000 word expression of my love for the NFL playoffs.

And then my job happened. And then overtime (hooray, money!) happened. And then my earlier promise was ground into dust.
That's how the media business is sometimes. You can never predict how long a game's going to be, or if your director's comprehension skills are beyond that of a field mouse, or if your equipment is going to malfunction and force you to make tremendous video fixes after the game. By the time we were done last night, it was 12:30am, my boss was delirious with laughter, and I unleashed a tirade of psuedo-expletives on the production truck that I knew would be a disaster as soon as I stepped through the front door.

But hey, whatever right? It's about results, not excuses. But if I begin to sound like Mush Mouth from Fat Albert over the next few paragraphs, please refrain from hurling an Allen wrench at my sternum. Thanks.

Part 2, let's GET. IT. ON! (I can feel the lameness kicking in already.)
4. San Diego Chargers (12-4, bye week)
Best Player(s): San Diego's O-line
Strategy: Phil Rivers throws jump ball to taller receiver, gloats and point in direction of head coach, laughs menacingly as he walks with peace sign extended to the huddle
Weakest Link: Norv Turner (he's gonna cost them a game, you watch)
X-Factor: Darren Sproles
Super Bowl Chances = An Old Lady Getting Preggo at Age 90 (Genesis 21:1-7)

Has anyone else noticed how Rex Ryan always calls the NFL postseason the "tournament" like we're watching March Madness? I think that's freaking hilarious. It's almost like, in his own mind, Sexy Rexy (whoops, sorry Grossman!) has decided to convince himself that his squad has just as much opportunity to knock off an opponent as any other team. And in some ways, he's right. The Jets are one awful Rivers game away from the AFC Championship.

Unfortunately, this is professional football. The Chargers are way better than us. I'm just counting on Norv to remember that he's in the playoffs and choke under pressure again.
As as I tweeted yesterday, I pray that LaDainian Tomlinson gets a TON of carries tomorrow. Yeah, I know he thinks he's still got the LT shuffle going strong. But I refuse to believe that he's even half the RB he was three years ago.

The Chargers should've drafted Mike Vick. (I kid! I kid!)

3. Minnesota Vikings (12-4, bye week in Round 1)
Best Player: Adrian "All-Day, Purple Jesus" Peterson
Strategy: Hand the rock to All Day, setting up the play-action pass
Weakest Link: Brad Childress (bad beard, crazy QB)
X-Factor: Jared Allen (if he gets to the QB, instant blowout)
Super Bowl Chances = Sleeping With a Lion All-Night and Not Becoming Seconds (Daniel 6:16-24)
There's going to come a point in time where Calm Favre gives way to Crazy Favre. You know, the guy that wanted to play in a meaningless Sunday Night Football game when his team already had their postseason position locked down. The one that wants to see how hard he can throw it into triple coverage while Adrian Peterson stands behind him with his hands folded.

I can't wait to see the ole' gunslinger play, er, FAIL. God, what did we do to deserve this?

2. New Orleans Saints (14-2, bye week in Round 1)
Best Player: Drew Brees
Strategy: Get the ball to the open man
Weakest Link: Reggie Bush (ain't no sunshine when's she's gone...)
X-Factor: Running Game (Pierre Thomas, Mike Bell, Reggie Bush)
Super Bowl Chances = 300 Men Laying the Smackdown on an Entire Army (Judges 7)

The Saints probably got the best and worst matchup for themselves in Round 2. The Cardinals can score with anybody (especially if Madden 2000 Warner shows up). The Cardinals can also forget how to form tackle in space. If Darnell Dockett (whose current wife went to HU!) and the front four can get pressure, then the Cards are in business. If they don't...we're looking at Breesus and the crew putting up a 50 spot in Katrina's kitchen later today.

Hey, Drew Brees, just remember...YOU'RE THE BEST...AROUND! NOTHING'S GONNA EVER KEEP YOU DOWN!

(Had to get that off my chest.)

1. Dallas Cowboys (10-6, man-handled Philly in Round 1)
Best Player: DeMarcus Ware
Strategy: Who KNOWS. Should just hand rock to King Felix and Marion the Barbarian until defense cries "Uncle!"
Weakest Link: The fragile Wade Phillips-Double J-Nerd Boy triumvirate
X-Factor: Felix Jones/Roy Williams' hands
Super Bowl Chances = A Wall Falling Down Due to People Yelling Loudly (Joshua 6:6-25)

The 2009 Cowboys look eerily similar to the 2007 Giants. Think about it.

You've got a young, fragile quarterback capable of finding and riding a tremendous hot streak (Eli = Romo), cagey veterans that desperately crave that elusive championship ring (Strahan = Ware), a cadre of explosive running backs (Barber/Jones/Choice = Jacobs/Ward/Bradshaw), talent and speed at the skill positions (Austin/Williams = Burress/Smith), a ferocious defensive front that wants to plunder the O-line and run roughshod in the backfield (Strahan/Tuck/Umenyiora = Ware/Spencer/Ratliff), and young guys who are starting to find their niche as the team plows further and further into the postseason (Mike Jenkins = Aaron Ross).

Real talk, the parallels are unmistakable.

I'm afraid to say it, but this Cowboys team is probably the odds-on favorite to win the Super Bowl. Even with Wade "Tubbs" Phillips at the helm. And Jerry Jones in his crazy box.

(An addendum to the Part 1 wife talk: Finding an intelligent, attractive (non-crazy) sports gal on the market is the sports equivalent of Tim Lincecum making it to arbitration without a contract offer; or Miles Austin sitting in your fantasy football free agent pool. It's virtually unfathomable. It's like batting .406 for five straight seasons. You get my point.

When the time comes, you've got to be ready to make the Godfather offer. Pull out the big guns. Use your best tactics. Don't be afraid to take her out to Buffalo Wild Wings on the first date.
Enjoy the playoffs everybody. I'll see you come Super Bowl Sunday.

Mike Benjamin, II

Happy Days Are Here Again! (NFL Playoffs, Part 1)

(Editor’s Note: I’ve decided to transcribe the conversation that I overheard in my brain the other day. You know…the talk that every man would like to have with his wife (God, PLEASE BLESS ME WITH A SPORTS WIFE!) around this time of the year (if we actually had any say in what goes on around us):

PLAYOFF FOOTBALL + HDTV + MY TEAM!! = DO NOT DISTURB.

Okay, so I may have taken some liberties with the verbiage. Ladies, don’t be alarmed. This is only what we’re thinking when we politely excuse ourselves from company to forage for mindless entertainment. Just kidding. Kinda.

I’ve been watching way too much Lopez Tonight.)

Woman! HELLO! Wife! There's a man speaking over here!

We NEED to talk! Which means, for a change, you’ll do 95% of the listening! ZING!!!!

Let’s skip the foreplay and get right to business. You know why I’m here. It’s playoff time. Teams are gunning for my J-E-T-S to drown in a pool of their own excrement, Pey Pey just won another MVP trophy for those commercials that make freaking Tele-tubbies chortle, and Kurt Warner just toasted the Pack in his chariot of fire (TOASTY!) to get them W’s.

I’m not gonna even front. I don’t plan on doing any house work this month. I’m here to lay in my own filth, waddle in place as not to miss an offensive drive while in the can, and bad mouth my favorite football team as they trot down the field in an attempt to keep me from pouring liquid nitrogen on the new flat screen. I know this may sound banal and incomprehensible, but just let me be MAN. Me don’t have time for complex methods of speech.

So, please, PLEASE…every January weekend from the hours of 1pm to 9pm, don’t injure yourself or others. I’ll be too preoccupied with the TV set to notice your blood seeping into the carpet. I WILL become a nuisance to you (MA! THE MEATLOAF!), and at times I’ll seem distant from the charismatic sweetheart you came to know and love. Don’t be alarmed. You can find that guy under the self-made mountain of Slim Jim wrappers.

Feel free to join me, if you dare. Make yourself at home. Just not in Big Daddy’s seat.

Now get me my food stuffs!

(WARNING: Do not actually say this to your wife/girlfriend. I don’t need to be reading any Marvin Gaye stories in the Daily Bugle. Hot grits ain’t no joke.)

Folks, there are eight teams left in the playoffs. Let’s break down their chances as we head towards Super Sunday. You too, ladies. You can’t possibly still be mad at me, right? RIGHT?

8. New York Jets (9-7, beat Bengals in Round 1)
Best Player: Darrelle Revis, CB (Defensive POY runner-up)
Strategy: Run the ball, stop the run, unleash Revis
Weakness: Mark Sanchez (rookie QB on the road, USC quarterback)
X-Factor: Shonn Greene
Super Bowl Chances = Camel Going Through Eye of a Needle (Matt 19:24)

Ahh...I remember it just like if it were yesterday. Jets lose to a woeful Falcons team, the T-Rex prophesies destruction for the rest of our season, and the Giants are looking like they might be the only team representing the Jersey Shore Big Apple.

Fast forward to last week. Jets cream Ocho-Stinko on his home turf, Mark Sanchez looks like the best quarterback to come from Pete Carroll's system, and everybody in Greenland is starting to feel themselves a little too much.

And this is the precise moment where we've always taken the L. Really. Look at our history. The Monday Night Football fake-spike. The Mile High Massacre in '98. The Doug Brien game in '03.

Mark's cool, but he's lunch meat if he can't read defenses. If SD plays us like the Falcons did (put 9 guys in the box and force Mark to throw)...he's toast.

Clearly, I have absolutely no faith in my team. We haven't made the Super Bowl since 1967.
7. Baltimore Ravens (8-8, owned Pats in Round 1)
Best Player (tie): Ray Rice, Ed Reed
Strategy: Run the ball, stop the run, unchain Reed
Weakness: Joe Flacco (monobrow)
X-Factor: Willis McGahee
Super Bowl Chances = Slaying a Nine-Foot Giant with Some Rocks (1 Samuel 17:32-50)

Last Monday, I entered the mall to return a gift. I left the mall with an instant re-gift and a new pair of sneakers. And I completely blame this on the hand lotion counter girl. She said some things, I nodded, handed her a twenty, and BOOM!

Instant punk.

I say all things for one reason: The Ravens are like the hand lotion lady. For the last ten years, we've been tricked into thinking that the Ravens are a really good team that's one measly piece away (Kyle Boller, Derrick Mason, Steve McNair) from winning the entire thing EVERY YEAR.

But they're not. Tony Siragusa isn't going to stop acting like a glorified color analyst on FOX, Bart Scott isn't walking through that door, and Ray Lewis isn't getting any younger.

And there's really no reason to buy what they're selling. But we will anyway, because we remember the beatdown they laid on the G-Men in 2000, and hey, their jerseys are the same color! Ray's not in prison! There's still gotta be some magic in that old top hat!
But there's not. See you on draft day, lovable black GM (Ozzie Newsome) in the NFL!

6. Arizona Cardinals (10-6, beat Packers on blatant facemask in Round 1)
Best Player: Kurt Warner (when he reverts back to the Madden 2000 model)
Strategy: Get the ball to the playmakers (Larry Fitzgerald, et al)
Weakest Link: Tim Hightower/LeGuy Who's Name I'm Too Lazy to Look Up
X-Factor: Defensive Line (Darnell Dockett)
Super Bowl Chances = A Man Staying Alive in a Whale's Belly for Three Days (Jonah 1:17)

I remember waking up for Round 2 last year, looking at the matchup between Carolina and Arizona, and guffawing loudly as I shuffled to the dorm kitchen for a huge bowl of Frosted Flakes GOLD. I later remember waking up later that day (gotta LOVE the nap after the big snooze), looking at the score, and planting the remains of said cereal into dorm carpet. Classic.

Remember that book that came out a few years ago about the "unknown" qualities that vault a company from being good to great? Me neither. But the Cardinals are that kind of team...good, but missing those perennial key ingredients that begat greatness (D, running game). Yup, Arizona is the Duane Reade of the NFL (hella convenient to find and enjoy, but doesn't completely get the job done).

The bigger question this week: How does Kurt Warner handle playing against the SAINTS? Discuss.

5. Indianapolis Colts (14-2, bye week in Round 1)
Best Player: Peyton Manning (Pey-Pey, 18)
Strategy: Dissect defense like a med student, then try really hard to make Jim Caldwell laugh
Weakest Link: Rookie Receivers, Wimpy Secondary
Super Bowl Chances = A Carpenter Turning Aquafina Into Cristal (John 2:1-12)

As Elmer Fudd would say, be vewy vewy quiet. I'm about to teww you the twuth. Shhh.

Indianapolis isn't a good football team.

Yes, it's true. The Colts haven't whipped their opponents all year (they've only beaten one quality opponent by more than 10 points; Arizona) and won seven games in which they trailed in the fourth quarter (the Manning effect). Bob Sanders has been out all year, and they've gotten away with playing a guy who only runs fly routes (Garcon) and a psuedo-Brandon Stokley (Collie) all year.

Here's the recipe for Saturday's game: If Peyton Manning comes out and sees Chris Carr covering Reggie Wayne, that's six. If Peyton Manning sees Ed Reed covering Reggie Wayne, he'll then have to throw to Dallas Clark. And that's six. But if Baltimore double covers Wayne AND Clark...well, then we'll see how good Collie and Garcon really are.

(By the way, I'm sad that we didn't invest as much time into all-decade lists as we did back before Y2K. I don't even think MTV bothered to even schedule a Top 100 music videos list to end off the year. Don't they know that I wanted an excuse to see Ok Go! walk on those treadmills in "Here It Goes Again"?

But if I had the opportunity to create any of the all-decade lists, one of the many I'd go with would be biggest foreheads. Why not? We've seriously had some epic ones make me wish for non-HD televisions...

5. Sam Cassell (because keeping him off any all-ugly ranking would automatically discredit the list)
4. Jason Kidd's son (remember the '02 and '03 NBA Finals? Yikes.)
3. Peyton Manning (check out his dome when he takes off his helmet)
2. Rhianna (OK music, bad boyfriend, unusual amount of space between eyebrow and hairline)
1. Alex Tyus, Florida PF (because when your headband doesn't reach your dreadline, I'm tempted to call you Stevie Wonder)
Am I grimy for that? Probably. Hehehehehe.

(Check out Part 2 coming...tomorrow. Out.)

My Dirty Little Secret

Shhh, I've got a secret.

I never shared this with anyone before. I'd rather not say, but we've been together for so long now. I feel like I can trust you. I think it's something you should know.

I hate power rankings.

I know I know…hate is such a strong word.

Power rankings are the biggest slap in the face to the sports fan. Power rankings declare your ineptitude. Power rankings take your mother out for a nice seafood dinner and never call her again. Power rankings erase your brain cells and leave you walking around your office building like Gabriel from Fences. Sans pants.

During the MLB and NBA seasons, power rankings get swept underneath the rug. Why? Because everyone's too busy, uh, watching the games. Who needs some self-touted "sports expert" telling them that the Bobcats stink. We know this, man. At the very least, that's why we'd put up with the Stu Scott's BOOYAHS! in the middle of a highlight package. And even that's pulling teeth.

But, hey it's the NFL! There's SO much time between games! Surely you, erudite plebian, would like to read a column detailing your team's abject failure! What fun!

Whoopee!

Like I've said before, making a power poll is the sportswriter's Western Union. It's the fastest way to write columns worldwide. (Hey, look…a pun!) If overused, this list can (and will) slowly drag even the best writer down the treacherous road to perdition. It's our MMQ, our Simmons podcast, our way of manufacturing content juuuuust in time to make tee time at the country club. We know that 60% of the time, it works every time.

Why does it work? Well, that's easy. Power rankings create buzz. They generate controversy. They get your average American riled up and ready to talk smack by their first water break.

The bad part? Power polls divert your attention away from some great stories. Like Mike Sims-Walker – a guy who Jacksonville probably snagged for his hyphenated name – actually producing. Or Glen Coffee, whose name looks as fake as the fantasy-esque stats he's racking up for his least-coast NFC leaders. Or the implosion of the highly regarded Todd Haley, the Kansas City coach whose press conferences are bound to be Coors Light fodder by 2011.

Yeah, that's right, Arizona Cardinals! The talking heads and idiots I read in my local paper say you're only the 7^th best team in the freaking NFC. You ain't playoff material! NOBODY CARES WHAT YOU THINK!

But now that that's off my chest, I have another admission to make. I'm going to write a power poll column. (Zoinks!) I've got a lot of random stuff to unleash after a month of dormancy, and this just seems like the best way to unravel without this boring you with an entire column. Maybe I'll defend my placements…maybe I won't. It's just a freaking list column anyways.

I just hope the guys over at KSK don't catch wind of this.

Mike's POWER Rankings

(Brought to you by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and VIEWERS LIKE YOU!)

10. San Diego Chargers (2-2): Because we recently switched over to FiOS at the house, the gents that run the company gave us the Home Box Office network for A LIMITED TIME ONLY. Of course, I was giddy with anticipation. To top it off, Verizon installed their fiber optic do-dad mere days before the season premiere of Entourage. Perfect timing.

Or so I thought. I got hosed.

Every summer, there's that one movie that EVERYONE is anticipating. The movie your co-workers gossip about at your internship's water cooler. The movie that you're not going to waste on a first-date scenario. The movie you spend all summer dreaming about the stirring drama, living and dying with every commercial, adrenaline escalating with every gripping trailer. The movie you buy your ticket for way in advance, and even consider taking the day off for.

And then you get to the theater. And sit down. And realize thirty minutes in that you're really just sitting in on a nicely disguised bowl of excrement. Yuck.

Entourage felt like that to me. Adrian Grenier hasn't begun to remotely develop as an actor (i.e., he's TERRIBLE), Kevin Dillon and Jerry Ferrera are trapped in limited character models, and everything revolves too much around the little man with the melodramatic life (E) instead of the head honcho and his variable personality (Ari).

Honestly, the show left me frustrated. Cameo appearances and Hollywood girls can only hold my attention but for so long.

This year's San Diego Chargers are like that too. People seem to think that this hodgepodge of characters led by a fragile front man with tremendous upside (LT) can realize their potential…but we've read this script before. This isn't the same team. This idea's been done already.

Really, there's only one way to save both Entourage and the 2009 San Diego Chargers. Kick it up a notch. Allow Philip Rivers (Jeremy Piven) to shoulder more of the offensive burden. Exercise Darren Sproles (Jamie-Lynn Sigler) as the explosive running option. Keep Vincent Jackson (Johnny Drama) and Chris Chambers (Turtle) hungry.

And even though it may be hard, don't be afraid to cut LDT (Vincent Chase) loose. You've already put his protection (Lorenzo Neal = Eric Murphy) out to pasture. He's no worse than a wet blanket girlfriend at this point. It's for the best.

Be risky. Be self-indulgent. Be dangerous. Be everything that Norv Turner isn't.

9. San Francisco 49ers (4-1): Am I listing the Niners here in a futile attempt to reverse jinx them for the rest of the season? Yup! You guys know me too well. Sorry Tillman.

(By the way, wasn't it great seeing Mike Singletary for the first time since the Vernon Davis incident? His Coors Light mock conference can't come fast enough.)

THOSE EYES! NOW THEY'RE IN HD! AHHHH!!!!

8. Pittsburgh Steelers (3-2): They're the defending champs. It's wayyyyyyyy too early to count them out.

(I'm embarrassed to say this, but I'll be honest: I caved and started listening to Christmas music last week. My first song? Wham's "Last Christmas".

"Laaaaaaaast Christmas, I gave you mah heart but the VERY NEXT DAYYYYY…you gave it ahhhwayyy (you gave it aw-hhayy). THIS YEAR, to SAVE ME FROM TEARS, I'll give it to sum-one spe-cialllllllllllllll (specialllllllllllll)."

How can you resist listening to this song? There's enough unintentional comedy here to keep Craig Kilborn relevant for years. Wait, he's not on TV anymore?)

7. Baltimore Ravens (3-2): Last weekend, I went to one of those sanctioned LSAC law school fairs thingies in Manhattan. (By the way, it’s so weird to hunt for information about college after graduating. I’m officially the awkward old guy at the frat party. Ewww.)

Anyway, I saw a friend of mine strolling the corridors for university brochures. Of course, it was a young lady (a shrty in the vernacular, so to speak). We had a brief conversation, one of those “How’s school now that I’M not there?” (polite chuckle) dialogues, and I found myself just STARING at her face. I was absolutely mystified by how beautiful and intelligent she was.

It only took six months, but I totally forgot how mesmerizing a Howard Woman can be. Yeah, there are oodles of fine women out there…but I’m not talking from the perspective of a slobbering buffoon. (You know that’s not my style.) Howard women (and the rare, stable New York girl that I HAVEN’T FOUND YET) just have this intrinsic quality that insulates them from outside ignorance. They have such unique perspective on their world and the global community. This aura surrounding them seems kind of majestic, almost regal.

I was blown away. I felt like one of the mechanics from “Uptown Girl”.

(In other words, I need to find a wife like THAT. Period.)

6. Cincinnati Bengals (4-1)

Wowwe-wow-wow! I can't wait to see their epic road victory this week on NFL Network. Who knew that a team from Ohio could actually be GOOD? Of course, that means they're a historic collapse away from becoming a Jay Leno punch line:

"Did you hear about the Cincinnati Bengals collapse last week? Yeah, they were 4 and 1 early on and fell rrrrr-right outta contention.

(Makes sweeping gesture with right hand)

That's a darn shame. A DAMN shame. Fell faster than Conan's numbers after I moved my (expletive) to ten o'clock!"

(OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!1111!!!!111!!!)

5. Denver Broncos (5-0): I'm gonna stick them here. I refuse to believe that the Broncos are this good. I almost fainted when I heard Bob Costas say that Kyle Orton was better than Tom Brady.

Wait, WHAT? It's Kyle Orton! From Perdue! With the neck-beard! He's killing fantasy teams left and right! He's this generation's Trent Dilfer!

(Wait, Dilfer retired two years ago? Oops. My bad.)

4. Indianapolis Colts (5-0): Is it possible that after all this time, Peyton Manning's having his first eff-you season? Think about it. He's coming off one of his worst years. His long-time coach handed over the reins to a rook. His favorite target (Marvin Harrison) is cracking chrome domes in Philly, and his replacement receiver (Gonzo) is done indefinitely. They barely beat a very bad Jaguars team. Everyone writes them off. Enter 2009 football season.

Four weeks later, the elder Manning is seen polishing off his Offensive Player of the Month trophy. Coincidence? I think not. This team is GOOD.

3. New Orleans Saints (4-0)
They're the first team to make my boy Mark ("Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, did YOU know that Mark Sanchez is considered to be physically attractive? OOOOooooo!!!") Sanchez look human. Of course in the NFC, that makes you legit.


(Since I started writing these "notes" (which eventually found solace in my blog), I've gotten immense respect from you guys in regards to my writing talent. I am so humbled. Trust me, I appreciate the encouragement and appreciation. But one of the realest sentences I've ever read came from my dude Jarrett Freeman, who put together this masterpiece in his Facebook status:


"I remember when getting high meant swinging at the playgrounds, the worst thing you could get from a girl were cooties, race issues were who could run the fastest, life was so simple and carefree, but the thing I remember most was wanting to grow up."

Wow. Thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat's great. Remember when (insert sentimental moment)?

Time moves FAST.

2. Minnesota Vikings (5-0) This has got to be the worse time to be a Packers fan. I mean, after Brett's egregious display of fist-pumping with a total disregard for human life, there's no love lost now. I'd feel like Michael Corleone from Godfather II:

"I know it was you Brett. You broke my heart. You broke my heart."
In related news, Vlad Masters has agreed in principle to buy the Green Bay Packers from the state of Wisconsin.

(Wait, this just in…yup, it's confirmed. That last joke just went over everyone's head. Awwwwwwesommmme.)

1. New York Giants (5-0):
Everything rests on Elisha's heels. Literally.

(By the way…I've heard the belly-aching from the twelve Twins fans and the eighteen zillion Yankee haters over the last few days, so it's time for clear the air right quick.


Sure, I'll admit it: The Minnesota Twins got totally jobbed on Friday night. The ump completely missed the call even though it was inside the foul line by a CLEAR TWO FEET, and that fissure derailed the Twins hopes of winning the series. It's the Jeffrey Maier incident all over again.

However, I can't justify a single call dashing a team's dreams. I mean, Joe Nathan (easily one of the best closers this decade not named Mariano Rivera) allowed the anti-clutch A-Roid to yam a homer after Nick Blackburn (WHO?) held us to one-run ball. Carlos Gomez overran second and got thrown out. Plus, Jason Kubel, the man who filled in for injured slugger Justin Mourneau, went 1-14 for the series – striking out eleven times in total.

Yes, you read that correctly. ELEVEN TIMES.

When your cleanup hitter's is batting a beautiful .071 with eleven K's, you're not winning the series. Just ask A-Rod. He knows what I'm talking about.

(Yes, I refuse to mention that Alex Rodriguez has gotten ultra clutch over the last three games. I'd rather keep being surprised by his awesomeness. This way, I won't get my heart broken (if/when?) he chokes in a big spot. Again.)
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So, there you go. With over 2,000 words in the books, I think I'll shut up now.

Well, actually there's one more thing.

Barack Obama!

(Remember, it's not an article written by a black guy until he's mentioned.)

Got to LOVE post-racial America.

Michael Benjamin, II

"The Butterfly Effect" (and some championship game picks)

My ankle socks sit comfortably in the drawer, admitting their uselessness against the natural elements. Colorful T-shirts from gospel concerts, basketball tournaments, and family trips become faithful undergarments, preparing to shield my birdcage from the slicing wind. Baseball caps adorn my closet wall purely for their aesthetic quality, the cold forcing me to wear a wool cap that completely covers my ears. I pray that my gloves will add warmth to my calloused hands, and trudge forth, steely-eyed and temperamental, to face the unbridled beast.

In the nation’s capital, winter has officially begun. I have ice water running through my veins, and not because I’m unconscious like Reggie Miller at the charity stripe or Mariano Rivera in the 9th. To put it clearly: It is freaking cold outside. I pass acquaintances and friends with a quick grin and nod, covering my teeth before the wind turns them into rock candy. With our local meteorologist predicting a temperature of twenty degrees (with the wind-chill making it feel like two), my body pleads with me to reverse direction and lay underneath my sheets, to acquiesce to the discomfort. I refuse, stubbornly vowing that the weather will not seize the joy from my winter months.

For this weekend, amidst the bitter cold, a new president will be sworn. Unlike his predecessors, however, this gentleman possesses quite a few additional drops of melanin. This individual will be the first of his kind to hold the highest public office in our land, a significant event that may change the course of history.

But then again, any event in life can trigger the butterfly effect. Could I have altered history by choosing to eat my absentee ballot instead of penning in my selection? Can circumstances change tomorrow if I order a cheeseburger over the fish sandwich today? Do I have the power to inspire the Arizona Cardinals to topple the Philadelphia Eagles by picking them in my football column? Eh, who knows.

I do know one thing, though. I plan to keep my Honda Civic parked in her space throughout the entire weekend. I plan to steer clear of the crowds that will flood the district. I plan to fill my stomach with junk food and skip Jeremiah Wright’s speech at Howard University in favor of NFC/AFC championship game action. Simply put, I plan to keep a low profile this weekend and watch some championship football. Let’s Go!

Arizona Cardinals (+4) over Philadelphia Eagles (27-21)
There is nothing more annoying than a fan from the city of Philadelphia. Unlike the Boston fan, who will scream at fans of other teams for overspending while their teams invariably spend large sums of money for their players (Kevin Garnett, Josh Beckett), Philadelphia fans have the innate quality of kicking a man while he’s down. Before the Phillies won the World Series, this haughty attitude towards the art of fandom was held in check and reserved for the players of their city. Yes, I’m black. I want Donovan McNabb to win a Super Bowl to prove all of his doubters wrong. But…he’s wearing an Eagles jersey! Plus, I haven’t forgotten about your decision to play phone tag on our sidelines, sir. McNabb, I hope you have an awesome game…but I need the Eagles to lose. You, dear reader, need the Eagles to lose. WE NEED THE IGGLES TO LOSE. Period.

ESPN’s Bill Simmons brought it up in his weekly picks column, but it’s worth restating in this space. The Cardinals have the chance to beat every other bird team in the NFL en route to a championship. So far (since Week 17), the Cardinals have beaten the Seahawks, the Falcons, and will play the Eagles on Sunday. If Arizona defeats the Eagles and the Ravens find a way to win in Pittsburgh, we’ll have a potential Alfred Hitchcock movie on the reel. Wouldn’t HBO have to use this opportunity to televise “The Birds” on a mundane Saturday afternoon in January? Wouldn’t Bruce Springsteen have to allow Birdman an opportunity to freestyle during the halftime show of Super Bowl XLIII? I’m getting giddy just thinking about the possibilities.

I can’t ignore the 1 Samuel 17, “David vs. Goliath” potential. I can’t ignore Larry Fitzgerald and his propensity to make sensational grabs in the secondary. Who am I to go against a guy who draws pictures of Jesus with his spare time? I can’t pick against this Cardinals team. As Sylvester Stallone said at the end of Rocky IV, “if I can change, and you can change…anybody can change!” The Cardinals…gulp…are your NFC Champs.

Pittsburgh Steelers (-6) over Baltimore Ravens (20-13)
Just like any football pundit, I was elated to see my pick (Baltimore) win on the road, in a tough environment. As my friend Melford wrote on my Wall last week, I even picked the correct spread for the final score (3 points). But let’s be clear…I got extremely lucky. First, Chris Johnson, who was destroying the Baltimore front seven, found himself sitting on the sidelines nursing an injury while Lendale “Fat” White did his best Ron Dayne impression, falling forward for three yards on every run play in the second half. After Alge Crumpler fumbled in field goal range late in the 4th quarter and Joe Flacco got an extra two seconds on the play clock to complete a much-needed 3rd down pass to Todd Heap, I knew that the Ravens would quote “Nevermore” on the Titans’ season. I took a rookie quarterback on the road (a no-no in the playoffs) and got away with it.

However, an inexperienced quarterback against another top-flight defense on the road just isn’t going to cut it this week. Sorry, Ravens fans...but I'm going to have to bail. Unless Sylar Joe Flacco suddenly turns into Tom Brady cerca-2002, I have a better chance of landing a commercial airplane in the Hudson River than the Ravens have of beating the Steelers this week. So, there you go.

(While we’re on this topic, I am perplexed by the amount of praise lavished on the pilot that actually pulled this landing off last week. While the captain did an excellent job of avoiding both the George Washington Bridge and the skyscrapers on the West Side, why are other aerial experts declaring his water landing an impossible feat? Granted, I’m glad to see those passengers safe (with a few minor situations), but shouldn’t we be concerned about pilot training? Check out this quote from the CNN.com story:

"I don't think there's enough praise to go around for someone who does something like this. This is something you really can't prepare for," said former Delta pilot Denny Walsh. "You really don't practice water landings in commercial airplanes. Just the sheer expertise he demonstrated is amazing."

Wow, that's coo...Wait, what? Go ahead and re-read that paragraph. You DON'T practice water landings???? All this time, I thought guys like Jester and Maverick from Top Gun trained these guys on similar tactical maneuvers and all possible forms of expert crash landing. So, though our airline seat cushions have the ability to keep us afloat, most of our pilots probably aren’t
skilled enough to crash land an aircraft into a body of water. To me, that makes plane seat cushions even more useless. What the heck am I paying for? I think John Madden might have the right idea…just drive a bus around the country that emits a huge amount of toxic fumes. Wait, maybe I’m just overreacting. Can someone provide me some clarity on this issue in the comments section?)

Anyway, the Baltimore Ravens are like the Sarah Palin of the NFL Playoffs. Sure, Sarah, you were big news during the election (Wild Card Weekend), creating executive fashion trends and funny Halloween costumes, and you took this nation by storm (Ed Reed’s monster game). Heck, you even found a way to hang around on our news wires (yes, I’m looking at you, MSNBC) a little longer than we expected after the election’s end (beating the Titans). But the excitement has worn off, sister. Let’s stop the charade. You are officially old news. Trust me, it’s okay to walk quietly into the sunset of irrelevance. We forgive you for wasting our time. Hasta la vista, baby.

To all of my Washingtonian brethren (and sistren), be safe on the streets this weekend. Don’t get trampled by the influx of Barack Obama supporters on the Mall. And if you need a buddy to hang with until the wave passes over our city, you know who to call.

Just make sure not to wear those darned ankle socks. It’s freaking cold out there.

Mike Benjamin, II

NFL, College Cliches, and the Best Bro-Sis Combo Ever Assembled!

Fact: College is the best four years of your life.

ENNNNNN! Wrong answer!

I hate it when people use this phrase to summarize their college careers. Whenever someone casually tosses this cliche into conversation, I wince, peer into their eyes, and give them the People's Eyebrow. True, I'm enjoying college, but if this experience serves as the highlight of my life before I've lived my next two months, two years, or two decades of my life, that's a sad commentary in regards to my future. Granted, I'll miss the HBO network and the free Honors Office printers, but I'm not afraid of moving on. In God, I'm ready to take on the next challenge, accomplish the next goal, and inspire others for Christ along the way. These entries serve as a humorous but nostalgic signifiers of great moments and awesome experiences. Yup, I'm getting wistful already.

So, before we get to the next point on the list, let's agree to make college mean more than a stupid cliche quote. And if you haven't been maximizing college life, it's time to get moving. As Ferris Bueller would say, "life comes pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it."

Things I'll Miss About College #3: Going to School with My Sister!

Do you really want to know what love is? (More than anything in the world, Ron.) Well, I'll admit that I wasn't really sure what to expect when my sister, Arielle, formerly accepted the scholarship offered to her by The Howard University to join its few but proud students. (Note: I feel that using the determiner "the" prior to a common name gives that name way more credibility. (The Bronx or The Dark Knight, for example) So, look forward to seeing tons of "The Howard University" mentions sprinkled throughout this blog post.) However, I am so glad that Arie decided to attend the Real HU. I am convinced that her decision to attend our university was not only the primary catalyst that grew our relationship to that of "best friend status", but also provided a sensible but encouraging voice that has helped me to become the student and person that I am today. (Plus, she's probably the coolest person on our campus.) All jokes aside, I am truly a proud older brother who can only praise God for what he's doing through Arielle. By far, Arielle and I are the best brother-sister combination ever assembled! Period.

First, no one has better quips, funny theories, and quick-hitting jokes than the Arielle/Michael combo. Over the years we have promptly constructed a list of approximately one trillion quips, one million cripping disses, and ten trillion inside jokes. To me, Arielle is like the Android 18 to my 17, the Cheryl Miller to my Reggie Miller, the Cece to my Bebe Winans. If you've ever been blessed (or willing) to see a movie, eat a meal, or travel anywhere with Arielle and I, you understand that our dynamic duo is like taking a bite of a well-made cheesecake. You're not sure which section of the cake tastes better, the filling or the crust, but you know that you are consuming an awesome delicacy.

Secondly, Arielle's understanding about women that I would have no chance of knowing (and for the record, still have zero chance of fully understanding). When Arielle tells me not to date a girl, I listen 99% of the time - partly because I know that she's helping me out, and partly because she's just so dang convincing with her explanations. Really, I can rattle on for hours in the space about my sister and her accomplishments (ExxonMobil, Abbott, et al), her talents (poetry, anything using the computer, her geniousness, smiling), or just Christ in her life...but I don't want to sound like an overzealous B-list actor that receives an award at the stepbrother of the Academy Awards Golden Globes. Anyway, you get the point. When I move on from The Howard University this spring, I'm going to miss our time together. As I would say, it's been pure awesomeness.

Since I'm supposed to be a sportswriter, let's go ahead and get to some football picks:

NFC: Giants over Eagles (20-17)

I love watching Chris Berman's "Two Minute Drill" on Friday nights during the football season. This week before the big Eagles/Giants Super Bowl, safety Brian Dawkins dropped this gem during the segment.

"This is what the season's coming down to. Me running full speed into big men."

Really, has the season really come down to Dawkins headbutting 330-pound linemen in the sternum (a la Zinedine Zidane) on any given Sunday? Isn't that the most bleak outlook on professional football you've ever heard? Seriously, doctors calculate that football players crashing into one another on any given play is equivalent to a simultaneous car crash. For the record, you will never catch me destroying my shoulder blades for the betterment of the team! If my coach told me to commit spinal suicide during football games, I would stop, spit directly on his Dr. Scholls, and quote Julius's classic line from Remember the Titans: "Why should I give a HOOT about you, or anybody else on this team? NOBODY PLAYS! I'm supposed to wear myself out for the team? WHAT TEAM? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Brian, you may want to sit a few plays out, champ.

NFC: Panthers over Cardinals (Infinity to Sub-Zero)

Okay, this might be the easiest game to pick this weekend. That's why the network executives argued to shove this borefest into the 4:15pm Saturday slot (because no one will forfeit an entire Saturday afternoon for this). Although I'd love to go against conventional wisdom and pick the Cardinals (so that the G-Men will have an easier route to the Super Bowl), I decided to concede victory to the Cats. Arizona is playing this game without WR Anquan Boldin (who in my definition is the most BOSS player the NFL has even seen), on the road, in a cold-weather stadium, with a terrible defense (who only beat Atlanta because they stopped the cutback system in the zone blocking scheme), the classic previously-underrated-but-now-overrated-because-everybody-talked-about-him-all-week guy (Edge James), and a quarterback who's probably hiding varicose veins underneath his leggings. Unless Ray Carruth breaks out of prison and flat-out maimes a guy on the field, we can all agree that the Panthers will take care of business with K-Ci and JoJo at the running back position.

AFC: Pittsburgh over San Diego (11-10)

I'm still bitter about the first meeting between these two clubs. First, we've got two offensive teams, slouching around in the crappiest field in the NFL today (Heinz Field), playing probably the most meaningess 4:15 game in recent memory. Of course, because I thought that Norv would wet the bed well before 7pm, I sidestepped my homework and watched this atrocity. Plus, my boy Troy Polamalu got robbed of a sure-fire TD that would have started heads rolling in Vegas (Pittsburgh would have covered the point spread). Uhh, not that I gamble or anything. (Ducks thunderbolt) San Diego can only hope that Mike Scifres (the guy who will be the highest-paid punter next season) drops about ten punts inside the 5 and that Big Ben's offensive line will offer Luis Castello 5years/$50 million by opening up the doorways to Roethlisberger's ankles. (It's possible - remember the Giants and Eagles games.) Otherwise, the Steel City rolls.

AFC: Baltimore over Tennessee (16-13)

Ray Lewis! Albert Haynesworth! Who's going to score the most defensive TD's? It's the NFL on CBS! This is going to be like one of those first-person, walkthrough, Nintendo 64 "Rampage" style bouts at LP Field. This summer, I drove by LP Field while in Nashville and laughed aloud. Why? Because I loved the idea of Titans fans possibly being one Vince Young injury/mental breakdown away from cheering hard for Kerry Collins, a guy who is guaranteed to look for cover when he sees flashbacks of the 2000 Super Bowl. (Yup, I'm still bitter.) Plus, without a solid deep-threat (really, the only weakness of Baltimore's defense...ask the Colts), the Titans have no chance of winning. And yes, I know I'm throwing my support behind a rookie quarterback on the road (Joe Flacco). Let's just not bring that up.

Plus, I can't stand the idea of my buddies (Ray and Earl) dancing in the streets of Vanderbilt University in jubilee while my New Jersey York Jets continue their search for the next Al Groh. Life as a perennial loser...you really can't get much worse.

Enjoy the games, everyone.

Mike Benjamin

Redskins: Good Indicator Of Election Winner?

Hail to the Redskins!

Well, maybe not in every game, but tonight’s anyway.

According to Forbes magazine’s report in 2007, the Washington Redskins are the second-most valuable franchise in the NFL, trailing only the Jerry Jones-led Dallas Cowboys. The fiscal success of this Washington-based franchise is predicated on their preservation of a number of great traditions. Those traditions include the adoration of the famous (or infamous) “Hogs” offensive line established during Joe Gibbs’ first tenure with the team and their live marching band, a throng of musicians the owners continue to squeeze into their 91,000-capacity stadium.

Every Sunday, Washingtonians attach team flags to their radio antennas and jerseys to their backs, waiting for their team to trounce an unsuspecting foe and praying for the Redskins’ ascension to the pinnacle of the NFL. While living as an observant college student in the D.C. area over the past four years, I definitely regard the Redskins’ fan base as one of the most united and dedicated groups that exists in the NFL today.

However, before this edition of “Monday Night Football” (Redskins vs. Steelers), some of these diehard Redskins patrons will have to make a tough decision. During the game, you may see fans that normally bang their fist on their chest and yell violently after a big Clinton Portis resort to giving their star running back a simple round of applause. Instead of standing to witness Santana Moss potentially run a punt back to the house, some fans will probably resign to crossing their legs and watching the return from the big screen.

On Monday night, loyalties will be tested, friendships lost and fans divided. Why?

Well, according to the stats, the Redskins have the ability to predict the White House.

Over the last 17 presidential elections, the Redskins have been the most accurate barometer of success for either the Democratic or Republican Party.

Here’s how it goes: If the Redskins win the game prior to Election Day, the incumbent political party will retain power and regain leadership over the United States. However, if the ’Skins lose before the election, the rival party will defeat the controlling party in the White House, and party power will switch hands.

In other words ... if the ’Skins win, McCain wins. If the ’Skins lose, Obama wins.

The Redskins’ prognostication prowess began in 1936, when the Boston Redskins downed the Chicago Cardinals 13-10, signaling a win for FDR and the incumbent Democratic Party. During the heated presidential race of 1992, Redskins fans already knew Bill Clinton would be our next leader after witnessing their defending Super Bowl champs fall to the New York Giants in a rout at home.

Don’t worry, Washingtonians. Since George W. Bush trounced John Kerry in the 2004 presidential election (even though the Packers had defeated the Redskins on the Sunday prior to voting day), the reliability of the ’Skins’ election barometer has been questioned. Heck, you might just be able to pencil in your vote for Barack Obama and still cheer valiantly for your beloved burgundy and gold. As for me ... well, let’s just say that I’ll be starting Ben Roethlisberger in my fantasy league this week.

So football fans, don’t be afraid to yell “Let’s Go Redskins!” on Monday night.

Or, you can just hold your cheers in until next week. We’ll understand.

Watching Football With the "Yard Family" at Homecoming

(Editor's Note: This article was first written in Howard University's daily black college newspaper, The Hilltop. You can check out this and more of my writings for the Hilltop, at www.thehilltoponline.com. Now, onto the article. Enjoy.)

We’ve got to stop scheduling Morgan State for homecoming.

I saw it go up.

Coach Carey Bailey had just called a great play-action pass for the Bison, leading to an awesome bootleg and toss from QB Floyd Haigler to his running back who scampered into the end zone for six. However, nothing is guaranteed in college football, and our kicker’s extra point attempt sailed wide right.

Final Score: Morgan State 31, Howard 30. And I saw it all from WHUT’s big screen TV on the Yard.

To me, watching the football game from the Yard is one of the most underrated experiences of Homecoming weekend at Howard. Every year a collection of folks from diverse backgrounds and different eras to trek across this country and return to HU.

Though our American economy screams for reform and our wallets cry for attention, the students and alumni refuse to allow this sacred tradition to die.

This multitude of globetrotters and world-changers take a collective break from their lives and muster the resources to gather annually at the Hilltop for their Howard University Homecoming.

For that collection of hours, Howard is more than a simple getaway weekend.

Howard is home.

Every year, the Yard eagerly awaits the return of this huddled mass. Shop owners fight to claim their space along the economic triangle in front of the Carnegie Building, knowing that legions of alumni will walk through to bargain for extravagant paintings and creative Obama T-shirts.

During the football game these shop owners are even busier than they were during Yardfest. Further down towards Douglass Hall, the smell of food circulates the air and draw hour-long lines filled with people who clamor for the taste of home cooking. Though Howard’s fashion show ends on the Thursday night before game day, a stream of new designs and unique threads continue to travel throughout the crowd, voicing the individuality of its wearers.

On the Yard, Homecoming IS football. To the appreciative Yard crowd, the unknown defensive linebacker before the game that later drilled a Morgan State running back during the game will forever be known by the nickname of “Coop.”

The reserve kicker that boots the football through the uprights on only his second career field goal attempt receives genuine cheers because of his resiliency. To these fans, Howard football brings back pleasant memories and toothy smiles.

While the final score on this day may signal another Howard loss, these fans will always remember this team played with intensity and character, attributes that they also strive to exhibit in their daily lives.

Sure, Yard football fans know that overtime action may bring a huge amount of stadium fans that left the stands too quickly in order to beat the traffic or prepare for their future activities after the game. However, the additional fans that join the group add the right amount of nervous excitement and energy to the crowd, wincing and holding their breath along with the Yard fans after every extra snap in overtime.

However different, the constant thread that ties all Homecoming game fans together will still remain the same. We all take joy in watching our players don those blue and white uniforms on that Saturday afternoon.

For those four hours, watching the Homecoming game on the projection screen with folks on the Yard is like piling into a family member’s living room on Thanksgiving to watch football before scarfing down the pot roast and greens. On this Saturday, millions of people around the globe treasure this experience because Howard represents that family. Heck, Howard University is family.

I’m just happy to have a seat at the table. And a spot on the Yard, too.

Michael A. Benjamin II