Best of 2011: Same Old Quarterback

Posted: December 25, 2011 by Keith Stone in Best of 2011, football, Jets, NFL, Sanchize
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It’s the end of the year so let’s look back at some of the best moments in The Suite (and give Stone a break). In honor of Mark Sanchez’s epic stinkbomb against the Giants, here’s a look at the quarterback from a skeptical Jets fan. This was originally published on November 19 by my prophetic buddy Ben after a tough Jets loss to the Broncos.

Football Fans, New Yorkers, and Jets Fans! hear me for my
cause, and be silent, that you may hear: believe me
for mine honour, and have respect to mine honour, that
you may believe: censure me in your wisdom, and
awake your senses, that you may the better judge.
If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of
Sanchez’s, to him I say, that Ben’s love for Sanchez
was no less than his. If then that friend demand
why Ben rose against Sanchez, this is my answer:
–Not that I loved Sanchez less, but that I loved
the Jets more. Had you rather Sanchez the franchise and
die without having tasted Super Bowl glory, than Sanchez gone, and we live
with the hope of championships? As Sanchez loved Jets fans, I weep for him;
as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was
talented, I honour him: but, as he was an awful NFL quarterback, we fans slew him.
There is tears for his love; joy for his
fortune; honour for his efforts; and death for his lack of accuracy and field sense.
Who is here so base that would be a
bondman? If any, speak; for him have I offended.
Who is here so rude that would not be a Jets fan? If
any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so
vile that will not love his team? If any, speak;
for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.

—Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, with slight edits for the situation

I went to bed at 2 AM Thursday night.

I didn’t intend to do that. But when the Jets lost night, I cursed, I punched the air and I think I freaked out my sweet and thankfully very understanding girlfriend. I called an audible and decided it was best not to go to bed at that moment. I was too angry.

It was an anger borne out of frustration. It was an anger borne out confusion. And in the end, it was anger borne out of a realization, the realization that the Jets are never going to be more than a decent team with Mark Sanchez at quarterback.

Coach bravado can only get you so far when you can’t throw five yard slant when and where it should be.

For a brief moment, I felt jealous of Broncos fans. Tim Tebow is a terrible NFL quarterback. He will almost certainly always be a terrible NFL quarterback. He can’t throw. He can’t read pass coverages. But right now, at least there’s always the small chance that he’s something more.

Then I pitied them, because they, like us Jets fans were, will be suckered in by the brief but exciting moments moments of glory.  When a QB leads your team back from the brink, it’s only natural to forget that the QB put your team there by bad turnovers, or in Tebow’s case, such inept play that the Broncos only had two sustained drives on the evening- and only came away with three points in four drives starting in Jets territory.

But the heroic moments do stop coming because eventually the other parts of the team covering up for the three quarters of bad play can’t hold back the deluge any more. And when that flood comes, you realize that you’ve spent three years watching the suck with no hope that it’s going to change any time soon.

There’s no worse feeling in the world than knowing the guy you’re playing will never be the franchise quarterback. When that happens, anyone looks better. Tebow. David Garrard, who couldn’t cut it in Jacksonville and who has a broken back. Tyler Thigpen- if Tebow can have the option, why not Thigpen the pistol? Greg McElroy. Yeah, he’s on IR and yeah, he has a weaker arm than Chad Pennington did after two shoulder surgeries. But we don’t know for certain he can’t be like Tom Brady.

Not like Sanchez. We now know he’s just like all the rest of them, the rest of those maligned QBs who donned the Jets’ green.

It’s an ugly history. Though it didn’t start with Joe Namath, it might as well have. And that must have been great for four years. Unfortunately it didn’t end well with him, nor did it ever for the men who followed.

But at least for four years, Broadway Joe was special. Richard Todd was never anything special, though he did get to an AFC Championship game, which the Jets lost to the Dolphins. Ken O’Brien was special, in 1985. Then he remembered what team he played for.

Browning Nagle never forgot.

Boomer Esiason and Neil O’Donnell were attempts to take someone else’s star and make them your own. But not all “stars” are created equal. Our solar system couldn’t be maintained with a red dwarf. Neither could the Jets offense, and that was before Bruce Smith knocked Esiason out for the season.

There was Glenn Foley and then there was Vinny Testaverde, who had the greatest year a Jets quarterback had since Kenny O. There was another AFC Championship game. But the Broncos wounded the dreams then and Week 1 of 1999 killed it. Not even the Tuna could bring the Jets to the promised land. Bill Belichick couldn’t even be bothered. For that matter, neither could Peyton Manning.

Stop for a second. The Jets could have had Peyton Manning, if he had declared early for the draft in 1997. Parcells promised to take him first overall if he came out. They could have had Bill Belichick as their head coach. He was the Grover Cleveland of Jets coaches, taking the reigns for brief periods on two non-consecutive occasions. The greatest quarterback and the greatest coach. Together?

Instead we were left with something that was just sad.

There was Chad Pennington, the thinking man’s quarterback, paired with Herm Edwards, who was not the thinking man’s coach. Pennington might have been one of the smartest men in football, but he never developed the cybernetics necessary to keep his rotator cuff healthy. It was a tragedy. But I bet he can call a better game than Brian Schottenheimer. In fact, I’m pretty sure his 2006 season is the only reason anyone thinks Schotty is a competent coordinator.

What about Kellen Clemens you ask?

He was never in any condition to play.

Of course there was the Brett Favre fun bag. Think Esiason or O’Donnell, with the media hype turned up by a million. The only joy to come out of that trainwreck was seeing Pennington beat Favre on the last day of the season. Chadwick will never be anyone’s franchise ever again, but at least he sent Favre on his miserable way.

Which brings us to Mark Sanchez, no longer worthy of “The Sanchez” moniker. We all know the background. We know the success.

But the success was never his. In the past Jets quarterbacks who had their brief moments have been the cause of that moment. Pennington was amazing in 2002. Vinny was never better than 1998. And Ken O’Brien wasn’t Marino in 1985, but he was better than John Elway or Jim Kelly.

Yet Sanchez has never been that. He’s never been the guy. We wanted him to be. We wanted to believe he could be. It was the one place the Jets could get better. Their defense was already great. Revis Island is still a place receivers fear being stranded.

Yet they could be no better. In fact they would get worse as the defense aged. Only Sanchez could change the course by becoming the franchise quarterback. He beat Brady in New England in January. If he did that, was it really too much to ask?

But then, was it too much to ask that 1985 not be the high water mark of O’Brien’s career? Or was it too much to ask Testaverde to actually learn that throwing the ball into triple coverage was a bad thing? And was it really too much to ask that Pennington’s shoulder not be held together by toilet paper?

Yes, yes it was.

Around 1 AM, after killing my brain with games of solitaire, I couldn’t even bring myself to play NCAA Football, I came to the sad realization that I was angry because I thought I had left this behind. The Jets were supposed to be different. Rex Ryan changed the culture they said. And he did. He had the players believing. He had the fans believing. There would be hiccups. But they would be champions. Eventually.

Last year after the Patriots loss, I was disappointed. I didn’t necessarily think they’d make the AFC Championship game- but the Jets were changing. So in 2011, after beating the Patriots in the playoffs, after coming so close to storming back against the Steelers, I was ready to believe.

But by 1:30 AM Thursday night, that belief was shattered. It really was the same old Jets. The team that will piss away opportunities against terrible opponents. That will lose to shit bag quarterbacks because they’ve got a shit bag of their own. The team that, at it’s finest, will build you up just to tear you down. The team that just isn’t winning a championship this year.

That last one isn’t the end of the world. I dealt with that last year and the year before.

The team isn’t winning a championship next year or the year after that either.

That’s something I didn’t want to remember how to feel. That’s something I hoped we had moved past. But why would this end any differently, when the dreams of championships as a Jets fan are always brief? They’re also vivid and memorable, but that just makes it all the worse.

By 2 AM, two things had become perfectly clear. One Mark Sanchez is no more a franchise quarterback than Todd, Pat Ryan, O’Brien, Nagle, Esiason, Bubby Brister, O’Donnell, Frank Reich, Foley, Testaverde, Rick Mirer, Ray Lucas, Pennington, Patrick Ramsey, Brooks Bollinger, Clemens or Favre.

The second thing I had come to grips with was the Jets aren’t winning the Super Bowl any time soon.

And I fell asleep.

Trailer Park: Home Alone

Posted: December 24, 2011 by Keith Stone in Happy Holidays, Home Alone, Merry Christmas, Trailer Park, videos
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KEVIN!

If you’re under 30 and Home Alone isn’t your favorite Christmas movie of all-time, please leave this website right now. I don’t want to talk to you. Home Alone just wasn’t my favorite Christmas movie, it was my favorite movie for a while, at least until Independence Day came out. It has it all: laughs, drama, getting hit in the face with paint cans. When you’re a kid, there’s nothing funnier than seeing people get hit with stuff, especially when they’re BAD GUYS! Of course, you can’t leave Home Alone 2: Lost in New York out of the discussion. Despite the fact that it was the same exact movie in a different setting, it pulled it off better than The Hangover did. Seriously, though, how do you get on the plane without Kevin the second time? Wouldn’t you have him handcuffed to you at all times? Or maybe travel in a smaller group? Or take a road trip? I’m just happy the McCallisters never thought of such things.

WEEK 16 Picks: Eve of Annihilation

Posted: December 24, 2011 by Keith Stone in 2011 NFL Picks, football, Happy Holidays, NFL
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I hope nobody made any bets last week, especially using our picks. When Phanatic goes 12-4, you know it’s a weird week. The Giants, Jets, and Ravens games were especially vexing. All three teams are in prime position for a playoff spot and nobody came to play. At least the Jets and Ravens were playing contenders. The Deadskins earned their nickname for a reason. As much as you feel confident about a pick, like I did with the Giants over the Skins, you never know when you’re going to get a lump of coal in your stocking. You can only be so lucky. Let’s hope this isn’t a sign of things to come. Piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiicks!

RAIDERS AT CHIEFS (-2.5)
Stone: Chiefs
It’d only be right.

Slumdeezy: Raiders

Rory: Raiders
Who can figure out this division anymore?  I’ll just take the points.

DP Animal: Raiders

Phanatic: Raiders

BRONCOS (-2.5) AT BILLS
Stone: Broncos
Remember when the Bills were good all those many, many days ago?

Slumdeezy: Broncos

Rory: Broncos
TEBOW!

DP Animal: Broncos

Phanatic: Broncos

Read the rest of this entry »

Best of 2011: Smokin’ Joe

Posted: December 24, 2011 by Keith Stone in Best of 2011, boxing, Joe Frazier, RIP
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It’s the end of the year so let’s look back at some of the best moments in The Suite (and give Stone a break). This was originally published on November 9 by Dinner Party Animal, two days after the death of Joe Frazier.

Is it strange to consider one’s self a boxing fan, even if you could count on one hand the number of fights I’ve actually seen in real time? We’d certainly laugh at anyone who made a similar claim about baseball, or football, or even a slightly more obscure sport like hockey.  Such, however, is the fate of a 27-year-old boxing fan in 2011, when the only compelling fights happen at the lower weight classes, and even there the one fight everyone wants still hasn’t happened.  It’s nothing like the glory days, when the best athletes in the world boxed, and the Heavyweight Champion of the World was a title that deserved every one of those capital letters.

My boxing fandom is borne more out of my love of literature, because boxers make for far better stories than any other athlete.  The precise blend of poverty, desire, strength, and toughness means that every boxer is a tragic hero, a modern-day Achilles, slighted by the gods, or by Fate, and yet able to overcome the immense odds in order to achieve their one brief moment of glory, even as they inevitably meet their early demise.

The news of Joe Frazier’s death sparked a strange reaction in me when I first read about it yesterday.  Frazier was in many ways the epitome of the boxer-as-tragic-figure trope: born to almost unbelievably poor sharecroppers in South Carolina, he started boxing as a way to lose weight as a child and developed quite possibly the best left hook in boxing history by punching slabs of meat in Philadelphia decades before Sly Stallone made such things popular.

The origin story is interesting, but it’s of course his incredibly complex relationship with Muhammad Ali that raises the tragedy to Greek epic level.  If Ali was the visionary, the man destined to transcend the world of sport and become a global icon, then Frazier was just as destined to remain, at heart, a boxer.  Not gifted with Ali’s knack for self-promotion, he was doomed to forever be the straight man, the punchline, the rube.

It’s not often remembered that Frazier stood up for Ali during his fight against the US military.  Frazier referred to Ali as the true heavyweight champion (even if he did call him Cassius Clay), and even lent Ali’s family money during that time.  To then have Ali turn around and attack him remorselessly in the media, calling him an Uncle Tom, a gorilla, and the White Man’s champ, that was an indignity that he neither expected nor deserved.  Remember, Ali was the one from a (relatively) well-off black family, the lighter-skinned man, and the one with the movie-star good looks, while Frazier came from desperate poverty and had a face that, well, no one much minded if it got punched once or twice.  Denied much of a chance at schooling, it was only in the ring that he had a chance to express himself.

It was within that ring that Frazier showed the true measure of himself.  Short and light for a heavyweight, he was perhaps the most indomitable fighter of all time.  Legendary for his constant forward movement, Frazier remained unafraid of whomever else was in the ring against him.  It’s the trait that showed itself in both his single greatest moment, dealing Ali his first professional loss in a unanimous decision in the “Fight of the Century,” and then losing that heavyweight crown a year later to George Foreman while being knocked down six times in the first two rounds (“Down goes Frazier, down goes Frazier”).  Yet even in that fight against Foreman (quite possibly the hardest punching heavyweight of all time), Frazier got up off the mat all six times.

Let’s talk for a moment more about that first fight against Ali.  It remains the sporting event I’d most want to attend if I had a time machine, in part because of the sheer spectacle of it all.  Here you had two undefeated heavyweights meeting in Madison Square Garden for the Heavyweight Championship of the World, back when that was the most meaningful title in sports.  You had Ali, who had come back from prison as perhaps the most famous man in the world, a man who in the early part of his career had redefined what a heavyweight could be, but was something of a mystery since he’d had just a handful of fights in the buildup.  You then had Frazier, who seemed almost impossible to knock down, perhaps the strongest-willed man to ever step into a ring, at the absolute peak of his career.

Indeed, Frazier won in a unanimous decision, which remains one of the greatest wins in boxing history.  He remains, at least in my opinion, the only fighter to beat Ali during Ali’s prime.  Sadly for Frazier, instead of being the beginning of a long reign as the Heavyweight Champion of the World, it was the pinnacle of a career that would largely come to be defined by his heroic performances in defeat, his transformation from Achilles to Hector as it were.

Sadly, life isn’t just lived in the boxing ring, where things appear clear-cut.  Frazier’s deep animosity towards Ali, justified as it may be, remains the defining feature of his post-boxing life.  Forever cast as Ali’s nemesis, he may have been able to go toe-to-toe with the Greatest of All Time in the ring, but outside it he was ill-equipped to match words or wits with him.  Every so often, quotes would emerge about Frazier being glad about, or even gloating over, Ali’s illness.  It was as if by outliving Ali, he could somehow turn the tides on their rivalry.  The sad irony, of course, is that Ali has won even that fight between the two.

Still, Frazier remains a link to the glory days of the heavyweight division, a time when the true test of a man’s mettle involved trunks, gloves, and fifteen rounds.  Though his reign atop the sports world was short-lived, few men have reached the heights that Frazier himself scaled, and there have been few braver, tougher men in the history of sport.

After the 14th round of the Thrilla in Manila, Frazier’s eyes were virtually swollen shut.  As he tried to rise to answer the bell for the 15th and final round, his trainer Eddie Futch placed a hand on Frazier’s shoulder and said “It’s all over. No one will ever forget what you did here today.” No, we won’t.

Trivia Time: Christmas

Posted: December 24, 2011 by Keith Stone in Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, trivia
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It’s almost time for Christmas and I couldn’t be more excited for presents, family, and the return of basketball. I did a little research and Christmas is not only Santa Claus’s birthday but somebody called Jesus Christ. A few centuries after Jesus was born, his followers decided to start celebrating his birthday. There was only one problem. Nobody knew when it was. Some thought the spring. Some the summer. Eventually, December 25th was settled on as the date. It was the same date a big pagan holiday and the Christians wanted to steal their thunder. This brings us to our Question of the Week. Get it right and Santa won’t put you on the naughty list. The answer, as always, is after the jump.

In which year was Christmas first celebrated on December 25th? (and a hint: it is not 1975)

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Talk Is Cheap

Posted: December 24, 2011 by Keith Stone in football, Giants, Jets, Joe Namath, NFL
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After both teams turned in pathetic performances last week, you’d figure the Giants and the Jets wouldn’t worry too much about the trash talking and concentrate on what’s going down on the field. For the most part, that’s been true. There’s been a little, “We’re classier,” “Our fans are better,” “Revis is overrated,” “I can’t wait to shoot my former team in the leg” talk but it’s been pretty subdued.

The only thing that bothers me is that Joe Namath got involved and is telling everyone the Jets are going to win 27-16. What does Joe Namath have to do with the 2011 Jets? Shut up, Joe. Shouldn’t you be in rehab or embarrassing yourself on national television? Rex Ryan is the biggest loudmouth of them all and even he’s sick of your yapping. You don’t see Frank Gifford talking about the Giants-Jets game. He’s busy slapping around Kathy Lee. The fact of the matter is that this game is important because both teams are on the brink of missing the playoffs. I couldn’t care less about bragging rights. Talk is cheap. Play the game.

NY Daily News

Kidnapped?

Posted: December 23, 2011 by Keith Stone in basketball, NBA, New Orleans Hornets
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“They are feeding us and treating us well, however the guards won’t let Kaman shave. Commissioner Stern gave us a basketball and lets us out to practice a few hours a day. It keeps our spirits high. We are looking forward to returning to civilization in a few years.”

Throwback: Beware the Gays

Posted: December 23, 2011 by Keith Stone in the gays, Throwback, videos
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Watch out! If somebody is personable and treats you with respect, you might dealing a homosexual. But don’t worry, Jimmy, you can spend time with your local boy scout leader, priest, or assistant football coach. This is like the most fucked up episode of The Twilight Zone ever. They should call it Night of the Friendly Gays.

Best of 2011: The Slutty Bartender

Posted: December 23, 2011 by Keith Stone in basketball, Best of 2011, Knicks, Melo, NBA, Slutty Bartender
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It’s the end of the year so let’s look back at some of the best moments in The Suite (and give Stone a break). This was originally published in the early morning hours of February 22 after the Knicks acquired Carmelo Anthony. Witness the birth of the Slutty Bartender Theory.

I went to Joshua Tree on 3rd Ave. on Sunday night (President’s Day FTW). One of the bartenders there was as sloppy as it gets. Big tits with a tight shirt, thong hanging out. She knew what she was doing when she was bending down. Every time you ordered a drink from her, she flirted so hard you expected her to take you into the bathroom in exchange for a tip. Every guy knows what I’m talking about.

As hot as she was, though, I got to thinking what I would have to go through to hook up with her. Even after seeing her shake her ass at every guy at the bar, I couldn’t say no when she asked me if I wanted another drink. How much money would I spend and how much of her slut antics would I put up with?

The Knicks finally acquired Carmelo Anthony on Monday night and it played out like the guy making a move for the slutty bartender. In the end, they bought plenty of drinks: Danilo Galinari, Wilson Chandler, Ray Felton, Timmy Mozgov, Anthony Randolph, Eddy Curry, a first-round draft pick, two second-round draft picks, and $3 million. It’s frustrating because it seems like they’re giving up a lot and maybe they didn’t need to. I think that as Knicks fans, it’s hard to say goodbye because these players were likable and it was fun to see them grow particularly after that horrid stretch from 2005-2007. The team is 28-26, though. They weren’t exactly setting the world on fire. Wilson Chandler is a restricted free agent at the end of the season and was unlikely to come back. Gallo had an extra year on his contract but it would have been tough to keep him when he became a free agent as well. Mozgov is a project. Ray Felton played great but has been struggling with injuries. Chauncey Billups will be a better replacement despite being on his last legs.

This girl is definitely going home with someone. The Russian guy at the end of the bar was ordering vodka tonics and telling her about his Jet Ski and some douche from LA wearing shades was circling. The Knicks are cooler but those guys made them step up. She’s not going home with the Knicks just because there’s nobody else there, but it’s a lot easier to persuade a girl to go to Midtown than Jersey or Brooklyn. They tried to play it cool and wait till closing time but their buddy in a band with the rich dad kept prodding them to buy more drinks and go for it right now. If the Knicks couldn’t seal the deal, he might start hanging out with his friend from Detroit a lot more. So they bought a couple extra rounds of shots and soon the chick was stumbling into a taxi.

If the Knicks didn’t make a move, maybe they make the second round of the playoffs, but without serious reinforcements would they ever contend? There’s no telling how long Amar’e is going to be playing as well as he is. Melo’s a top-15 player in the league and he makes the Knicks potentially greater than they would be with anyone they traded away. Melo is battle-tested. He’s played in 45 career playoff games in the significantly harder West. He’ll be ready to go up against the Bulls in the first round and won’t be afraid of the Heat, Celtics, and Magic.

It’s clear now that Melo wasn’t going to wait to become a free agent. The free agent class of 2012 is loaded but it’s so far away. The only players the Knicks have under contract for 2012-2013 are Amar’e, Melo, and Renaldo Balkman for about $45 million. Depending on the new CBA, they should still have some flexibility. This was really the Knicks’ one chance to get any game-changer until then and nobody knows what the new Collective Bargaining Agreement will bring. There may be franchise tags or a hard cap. You can bring the slutty bartender home and she might be a dude, but it’s worth the risk.

Ultimately, Amar’e and Carmelo are the cornerstones of this team. Their games do not complement each other, but they are gamers and maturing into leaders. Coach D is smart and will help them figure it out. All three of them have something to prove. Carmelo is coming to New York to show that this entire hassle was worth it. He and Amar’e need to rally the team around them and make a commitment to defense and rebounding. We all know they’re going to score. A lot. It’s how they do the other things that will make all the difference.

With a upgraded starting lineup but short bench, it’s going to be tough for the Knicks to contend for a title as currently constructed. However, the NBA is a superstar-driven league and now they have two. THE KEY IS THAT THE KNICKS HAVE TWO SUPERSTARS. The second- and sixth-leading scorers in the NBA are on the Knicks. You got the slutty bartender home before some other prick could swoop in and take her. What else can you ask for? You may have spent a ton of cash and lost some of your dignity but you had a hell of a night. The important thing is that you got her home. And if one day a girl from New Orleans, a bitchy Mormon, or a tall chick dressed as Superman want to join the fun, you’re right up there with the best of the best.

My slutty bartender didn’t have such a great night as the Knicks’ girl. After they started playing “I Wanna Dance With Somebody,” she tried to climb onto the bar and fell backwards into a mirror. She was helped away by a bouncer. I guess now I know what it’s like to be a Grizzlies fan.

Those North Koreans Are Taking the Giants Loss Pretty Hard

Posted: December 23, 2011 by Keith Stone in geopolitics, Kim Jong-Il, North Korea, RIP
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OK, so they’re actually crying about the death of their Dear Leader Kim Jong-Il. I’m not sure if his death will ultimately be a good thing or a bad thing, but 2011 for sure has to be known as the year that some of the worst people on the planet met their end. Life in North Korea must be pretty horrible, almost as bad as an airport right before the holidays. Here’s a profile on what the country is like from the New Yorker a few years back. The craziest part is when Kim Jong-Il kidnapped a movie director so he could make movies in North Korea. That is not the type of person I’d want running my country. He was one hell of a golfer, though. 11 holes-in-one!

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