Thoughts about Paterno getting the boot

Before I begin, I'd like to thank Al Michaels for earlier tonight dropping the latest edition of the stupidest, least creative, most trite joke in the history of sports commentary. The Jets had just forced Tom Brady into intentional grounding while he was in his own end zone, earning themselves a safety. The score was Patriots 6 Jets 2. Al:

Looks like we've got a game going on between the Red Sox and the Yankees!

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR I hate that bit.

Moving on to the NCAA football scandal of the week (this time with extra horribleness and nightmares!). I didn't feel compelled to write anything else about it until I had long conversations with two different friends in the past week. Contrary to my own views, those friends both thought Paterno's dismissal was unwarranted. And since those friends constitute 20% of the blog's readership, I will respond to their concerns with what I think is the simplest, clearest way to explain that the dismissal was absolutely necessary. It's worth noting that neither friend attended Penn State, and only one has any affinity for the school (since one of his parents was a professor there when he was a little kid). I'm not dealing with blind fanboys here.

First I'll clean up a couple side points. Both friends wondered why more outrage hasn't been directed towards Mike McQueary. For the most part, I agree with them. He should be fired. Fine by me. Putting aside the fact that keeping him around would just be kind of weird, he pretty much failed as badly as Paterno did. Paterno's failure means more because of his position, mind you, but McQueary bombed just as spectacularly when it came to preventing the rape of children. Ideally he would have actually stopped Sandusky when he stumbled across the 2002 incident. Failing that, he would have immediately called the police. Failing that, he would have followed up with Paterno and the high level school administrators (who met with him after his initial report and told him not to worry his pretty little head about it) and told them that he needed to know exactly what was being done about the incident and what changes would be made going forward. If they couldn't clarify things and tried to duck and dodge behind some "Oh, we've handled it" bullshit, he should have gone to the police. Since he did none of those things he can go fuck himself. Whether it was because he wanted to keep his job and feared losing it if he pushed the issue, because he didn't know quite what to do, or simply because he honestly believed that the administration had taken care of it, his inaction almost certainly facilitated more crimes. Fuck him. So there you go, we agree on something.

The other side point is kind of a macro-level analysis of the Paterno situation and is a little bit simplistic. But I think it's worth considering. Both friends conceded that Paterno could have done more. Paterno himself concedes that he should have done more. All three of them don't think Paterno should have been fired. How about this, though- put yourselves in the shoes of the university president (or perhaps in the shoes of a potential donor, ready to write a check if you feel good enough about the school). If you're the guy in charge or a person making an important choice about discretionary income, do you really want to have the most powerful guy on campus to be someone who doesn't do absolutely everything they can to prevent child rape? Do you want that guy to be someone who fulfills his legal obligation, shakes his head sadly for a minute because one of his oldest friends is destroying lives, and then calls it a day? I'm just saying.

Now, the one thing Paterno defenders have been saying about this argument is that maybe Paterno had no idea what was actually going on. Maybe McQueary didn't make the details clear enough. Great, let's discuss that possibility. Because while this is a complex situation with a lot of different events and actors, I think the question as to whether or not Paterno should have been canned can be reduced to what happened in the aftermath of McQueary's initial conversation with Paterno. As I see it there are only three possibilities as to what happened and they all force me to the same conclusion.

Possibility #1: McQueary was crystal clear when he told Paterno about what he saw (by which I mean he didn't use ambiguous language like "they were horsing around" or "Sandusky was doing something inappropriate" but rather "he was having sex with the kid, I am 100% sure of that"), Paterno understood exactly what McQueary was saying, and then Paterno responded by sending a report up the chain of command and nothing more.

Conclusion: Fucking fire his ass. The reason is pretty obvious as far as I'm concerned. You're the boss. Penn State football and its facilities are your domain. You need to keep control of the program and those facilities at all times and do everything you can to prevent horrible crimes from happening on your watch. You've just been told that someone who is still somewhat involved in the program and has access to the facilities is raping kids. Your obligation, unless you have a good reason to distrust McQueary, is to 1) get the police involved and 2) make sure this person never again comes anywhere near your program or your facilities. Your chosen response is to kind of sort of get the administration involved and then leave the situation alone for nine years, hoping it'll just go away. Fuck you.

Look, I understand that rape accusations are serious business. Duke lacrosse scandal, etc. Every year tons of people are wrongfully accused of rape and it can have disastrous effects on their life (and subject the accusers to all kinds of liability and problems as well). But in this scenario, we're talking about Paterno getting a clear and precise account of the rape of child from a McQueary that he trusts. And if you have that, what other followup option do you have besides contacting the police? I'm not saying you do it the minute McQueary leaves your office. Maybe you talk to the university's general counsel about it. Maybe you call Sandusky and ask for an explanation. But what could he possibly say? One of three things. "Yeah, I did. I'm sorry. I have a problem." Great, call the cops. "You know what Joe, my lawyer has advised me not to answer any questions about that." Great, call the cops. Or maybe "No way! Totally untrue!" Well, now we need some expert fact finders to get involved because we have a factual dispute. I suppose the university might be equipped to handle that fact finding task... but when rape is involved, I think law enforcement is the much better option. Call me old fashioned, I just think you've got to err on the side of caution when it comes to this kind of thing if the report you receive is clear and from a trustworthy source.

Possibility #2: McQueary was crystal clear about what he saw, but Paterno didn't understand what McQueary meant. He either couldn't comprehend it or chose to believe it wasn't true because the Sandusky Paterno knew was a class act who would never do something so unspeakable. Thus Paterno responded by telling the administrators that apparently McQueary saw something weird happening but it was probably just a misunderstanding and then doing nothing more.

Conclusion: Fucking fire his ass. If you're too old and senile to understand when someone uses unambiguous language to describe a rape, you shouldn't be in charge of a college football program. If you someone uses unambiguous language to report a rape but your relationship with the alleged rapist prevents you from believing that the reporter is telling the truth, you shouldn't be in charge of a college football program. You're beyond help in this scenario. There's no better way to put it; you simply do not possess the mental abilities needed to preside over a large and powerful institution. If you're a local hero like Paterno is, you should be placed in some kind of a figurehead honorary position where your stupidity is less likely to cause horrible damage to people and society.

Possibility #3: McQueary actually wasn't clear at all. Fearing backlash from Sandusky, fearing that he wouldn't be believed, or perhaps being so traumatized by the incident that he didn't want to believe he saw an actual rape, he chose to use ambiguous language in his conversation with Paterno. He said Sandusky and the kid "were messing around" or some shit like that. Paterno heard this, understood what McQueary said, took him at his word, reported it up the chain, and then left it alone.

Conclusion: Fucking fire his ass. This is most of the same logic from #1, just taken a step back to account for the possibility that McQueary didn't present all the relevant information up front. And if that happened, obviously it's Paterno's duty to ask some fucking questions and try to get that information. There's no way that an old man and a child were doing anything that fits under the umbrella description of "messing around" in a shower but that there was nothing at all wrong with it. So ask the questions and get the answers. And if McQueary won't give them to you, get a serious investigation rolling. Contact Sandusky. (That should be done in situation #1, too.) Contact the Second Mile. Ask the university to launch an internal investigation. Do something to gather the facts. Don't just stick your head in the sand and hope it all works out.

Yeah, so there you go. I dunno. There are a lot of other ways to look at the Paterno firing but I feel like this is the simplest. When McQueary came to Paterno and the end result was a few conversations about the issue behind closed doors and an unenforceable decree that Sandusky couldn't come to campus any more... it doesn't really matter how the Paterno/McQueary conversation went. Joe sealed his fate right there in my eyes. Feel free to leave thoughts in the comments (unless you're some fuckass moron named Anonymous), or just stare at the wall for a minute and ponder how fucked up humans and life are.

Probably the most out of touch comment I've read on the Penn State riot

And surprisingly (or not, to some) it comes from Michael Schur (creator of FireJoeMorgan.com and Parks and Recreation (which I think is the best show on TV)).

Yes, of course! If only this cohort of bored, likely intoxicated 18-22 year olds had kids, then they wouldn't be rioting. Somebody get these students some babies!

/takes off sarcasm hat

Seriously, when I saw this on my Twitter feed I assumed it was from Bill Simmons because its explanation was equal parts: facile, smug, and wrong. (Yes I follow both Simmons and Schur on Twitter. It's because I'm jealous of their success, you see.) As I hinted at in the insultingly sarcastic chapter of my tweet criticism, I think most people would agree with me when I say that this protest, if it can be called that, has nothing to do with PSU students' inability to empathize with the victims' parents. What it's really about is that college students do stupid shit, and football fans are the most irrational assholes in the country. The fact that the student body used Paterno's early dismissal as an excuse for mayhem and wanton destruction is probably the least surprising thing about this whole mess.

Furthermore, I think Schur's argument is weak because it'd probably take about 5 minutes of canvasing State College, PA before you found some lifelong PSU fan with kids who said something like "Joe Pa deserved better!" Maybe I'm wrong on that count, but look at this past Sunday Night Football game. 65,000 fans cheered on Ben Roethlisberger as if he were a conquering hero. Would you really want to a wager that they were only able to palate Big Ben, an alleged rapist, because none of them had ever had a mom, sister, or daughter? Would you want to bet that no one at Lincoln Financial Field had ever owned dog? Probably not. So let's chalk this one up to PSU students being shit heads and not a generalization about the childless's inability to comprehend the gravity of child rape.

Grab bag post featuring an idiot, a complete dipshit, and a guy who won't stick to his guns

None deserve their own post. All deserve some ridicule.

First, you may not have heard, but Penn State had a pederast in their midst. Fortunately they dealt with the terrible situation swiftly and properly by contacting law enforcement. I think that's what happened anyways. Proving that he has his finger squarely on the throbbing pulse of America, Rick Reilly chimes in with an important message:

This is not about Joe Paterno.

No fucking motherfucking shit.

If these boys really were molested, groped and raped by a middle-aged ex-Penn State football coach, then whatever misjudgment Paterno made will be a single lit match compared to the bonfire these boys will walk in for years to come.

Many of them won't be able to trust. Won't be able to love. Won't be able to feel -- nor trust or love themselves.

Yes, everyone think of the children. And they already are. We don't need to be reminded of that in this situation; even the most callous or clueless person understands that the kids are the victims here. Paterno may be in the spotlight but it's for sensible reasons. He's the most powerful and visible person involved and the only one besides Sandusky who's nationally known. The fact that it's about the kids and not about Paterno doesn't mean the media is obligated to focus their attention on the kids or the crimes. That's an angle that's just too grisly and sad for a lot of people. The Paterno angle carries with it the possibility of some kind of justice, or at least so a lot of people will think. In short, it makes sense that a lot of the water cooler talk about this mess focuses on Paterno rather than the crimes/victims.

But of course that doesn't mean it's "about" him. The people who really do think this is about Paterno are mouth-breathing PSU alums or students who live for nothing but college football and could give a damn about anything else, including prevention of child rape. They probably (hopefully) make up less than one percent of the population.

Don't feel sorry for Paterno. He's had his life. Feel sorry for these boys, because they may never get one.

The people who feel sorry for Paterno are an even tinier subset of the tiny set of people who think this is about him. Those in that tiny subset are not worth addressing. They should be herded into a mine and sealed inside with concrete. I believe we have a label for articles like the one Rick wrote here. It should appear first in the list at the bottom of the post. He also threw this in, seemingly in an attempt to confuse me:

No, this isn't about 84-year-old Joe Paterno not taking more steps that might have stopped it. It's about everybody not taking more steps that might have stopped it. Not parents, not teachers, not uncles,

Uncles?

Enough of that uplifting story. Let's talk about Big League Stew. Yahoo's MLB blog is written by a mongoloid who goes by 'Duk and thinks that this is clever, useful analysis.

For the purposes of this post, let's say that I have just traded the ten-dollar bill that I just found on the ground for a fast-food meal at a chain burger joint.

It's nothing fancy, but it will get the job done. I hadn't eaten in days.

Furthermore, let's also suppose that I decide to walk home from the restaurant in an attempt to work off the caloric impact I have just foisted upon my system.

[two paragraphs spent extending this painful and worthless analogy snipped; don't worry, you don't need the full bit to appreciate how mind-numbingly stupid this is]

So I tell you that I'm perfectly willing to take your doggy bag if you don't want it. I might take it all the way home, but I might also throw it away. It doesn't matter, though, because you've already paid the bill. I'm on the hook for nothing.

I've also just perfectly described the strategy that Dayton Moore and the Kansas City Royals are taking in their attempts to resurrect a winner.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Finally, an article that's not truly abhorrent but just kind of bothered me as I read it because of Mark Schlabach's unwillingness to commit to his initial stance. It's a stance that I think is stupid and wrong but certainly defensible, and I'd like to see a capable writer like Schlabach fully support. Unfortunately he backpedals. Backpedals like a bitch.

LSU and Alabama are clearly the best two teams in the country and are head and shoulders above the rest. It's a shame they can't play each other again in the SEC championship game.

You want a plus-one playoff? Let the Tigers and Crimson Tide play three times this season, with the best-of-three winner claiming a national championship.

That's not how a plus one would work. Just nitpickin'.

LSU and Alabama are that much better than everyone else this season.

And we know that for sure, without any doubt; just ask an SEC fan.

If LSU wins out and wins the SEC West, critics will suggest Alabama shouldn't play for a national championship because it didn't win its conference. But when the dust settles on the college football season, the two best teams should play for a national championship, no matter the circumstances.

Strong stance. One that I think is dumb. Even if we could be sure that Alabama is better than Okie State or Stanford, Bama had its chance and blew it. If they were to rematch with LSU in the title game and win, it's kind of like... well, OK, we know both those teams are awesome and we know which was playing better in January. Can we say for sure that Bama was the best? I understand that you can never really say who the best of the best is unless they've all played each other, and a win by (not THE) OSU or Stanford over LSU doesn't forever end the debate. But to me, a rematch with a different outcome than the regular season matchup is wholly unsatisfying. And a rematch with the same result if/when OSU or Stanford was undefeated but got shut out of the title game feels even worse. I dunno, I just really don't want to see Bama play LSU again unless there are no other big conference undefeateds left.

History suggests that the odds of an LSU-Alabama rematch in the BCS title game are slim. After No. 1 Ohio State defeated No. 2 Michigan 42-39 in their 2006 regular-season finale, the Wolverines argued they deserved another chance at facing the Buckeyes in the BCS title game. But No. 3 Florida jumped the Wolverines in the final BCS standings, and the Gators routed Ohio State 41-14 in the BCS Championship Game.

Here's the difference, though: At the end of the 2006 regular season, you could argue that Florida was better than Michigan. But if Alabama wins out this season, you couldn't argue that another one-loss team -- or even undefeated Boise State -- is better than the Crimson Tide.

Sure you could. What if Stanford's only loss is by a field goal to Oregon in overtime? What if OSU's only loss is by a field goal to Oklahoma in overtime? There's definitely a debate to be had there.

Especially not after SEC teams won the past five BCS national championships.

Fucking SEC people. You cockswabbers, chanting your conference's name. GMAFB.

If Oklahoma State wins out, it will deserve a chance to play LSU for a national championship.

Wait, what?

The same goes for Stanford, if the Pokes slip up along the way.

OK. So that whole thing about Alabama clearly being the second best team out there, and them definitely deserving a rematch... tempered. Significantly tempered.

But if those two teams lose somewhere down the line, Alabama would be the most deserving team to play LSU for a national title.

And you just sucked all the controversy out of your article. That makes me angry because the ESPNiverse has trained me to zone out if a journalist isn't being intentionally contrarian or simply a straight-up asshole. Although you've let me down, Schlabach, you're still OK in my book. Just don't get my hopes up like that again.

Expert geniuses offer double top secret insider brilliant MLB free agent predictions

Let's take some time to appreciate this, shall we? After all, CBS doesn't just pay their baseball analysts to sit around and look good (although the analysts certainly do that!). It pays them to formulate informed and insightful baseball analysis. And so we have this lovely chart:

We have ringleader Gregg Doyel, troll extraordinaire, claiming the Yankees and Red Sox will sign every single one of these players and that the Yankees will end up with both Rollins and Reyes. BUT WHAT OF THE CAPTAIN?????1111?11. That's some nice trollin', Gregg. As Chris W says, "Gotta love Gregg for being the Skip Bayless of the internet." Then we have Vice Shithead Scott Miller saying the Pirates will shell out cash for Beltran and Buehrle will end up in Miami. We have a presumably pretentious dude named C. Trent claiming the Marlins will come up with the cash for Pujols and that Buehrle will somehow end up with the Cubs. We have three experts who say the Padres will decide overpaying Heath Bell is a good idea and in line with their organizational philosophy. Not be left out of the fun, Miller thinks the A's will the team that gives Bell the $8 MM per season it'll take to get him. We have Matt Sndyer thinking Prince Fielder will say "Yeah, Baltimore, THAT'S where I'll spend the rest of the prime of my career." We have Larry Dobrow thinking the Marlins will say "What's the one thing we definitely don't need? Starting pitching. So let's give C.J. Wilson the $14 MM a season he's asking for, why not." There's plenty more, too. The hits just keep on coming. This might be the most spectacular display of WRONG I've ever seen in graphical format. Here, I made it slightly less stupid (and I'm being generous about the Beltran to the Marlins, Reyes to the Brewers, and Rollins to the Mariners entries):

You're welcome.

The Otherwise Great Joe Posnanski Goes All Easterbrook On Us

In an ill-advised screed against the intentional walk (a right-minded complaint but with a strange hysteria that seems poorly fitted to the magnitude of the relatively infrequent free-pass), Joe drops this gem on us:


But win or lose is not the point -- I'm really not second guessing the strategy. I'm second-guessing the conviction. My old pal Herm Edwards became famous with his "You play to win the game" classic rant -- it even led to a book by that title. But I don't think many do play to win, not in any sport. You play to extend the game and hope that it works out for you. You play to delay the big confrontation until you have no choice. I don't know if it was ever different. But it sure feels like now coaching and managers try to avoid the big moment as long as they possibly can.


Oh Joe, what's next? A "Buck-buck-a-brawck" award for Ron Washington?


Also there's this:


And the incentives within the game tell you what kind of game it is. If you made pass interference a 5-yard penalty with no automatic first down, well defensive backs are going to mug receivers all over the field. If you made a half court shot worth 20 points, players would practice and practice and practice the half court shot until they could make them a staggering percentage of the time. The intentional walk is a case where the negative incentive simply doesn't work well enough. One base and no advance is not enough of a deterrent for managers, and I think that's a flaw in baseball rules.


I'm a little bit surprised at this given Joe's connection with all-around superhuman Bill James (whom Poz namechecks later in cribbing Bill's suggestion for an intentional walk rule change), who wrote the following in his Historical Baseball Abstract (fanboy alert: probably the best baseball book ever written):


[Walking every time up vs. pitching to a hitter even better than Babe Ruth in his best season with a terrible lineup around him is] not even close. Walking Ruth every time up does far, far more harm than good, even under these impossibly extreme conditions. The team for which Ruth hit .385 with 61 homers a year scored 601 runs per season, and finished with a winning percentage of .326. The team for which Ruth was walked every time up scored 667 runs per season, and finished with a winning percentage of .380. As great as Ruth was, as terrible as his teammates were, he was still nowhere near the point at which it made sense to simply walk him every time he came up to the plate.


So in other words, walking a hitter every time--even in the most extreme example imaginable--is a swing in runs produced of more than 10%. In a more realistic yet still extreme scenario (think Barry Bonds in 2001) where the hitter is not quite as good and the lineup around him is not quite as bad, it probably gets closer to a 15% edge. In a  closer-to-the-mundane example of an Albert Pujols surrounded by Matt Holliday and Lancer Berkman, the edge becomes closer--pulling numbers out of my ass, to 25%. This means that managers don't walk Pujols very often.


And here's Joe arguing that we need more extreme penalties--even though the current system fits to a tee his definition of a self-correcting set of penalties--because....why? He doesn't like it when people intentionally walk people?


Hell, baseball's odd. It's an odd game. Maybe we should get rid of the intentional walk. I don't know. I don't like the INT, per se. In fact, I dislike it. Actively. But if I had to list the things that bother me in baseball, it probably wouldn't crack the top 10:


10. Payroll disparity
9. Mike Scioscia
8. Too many pitching changes
7. Umpires who are huge fucking assholes like Joe West
6. The fact that the above umpires are never held accountable because...I don't know why. Didn't the umpires' union lose their strike?
5. Long running times of games.
4. Even longer running times of games involving the Yankees
3. MLB.com's absolutely awful video-clip policy
2. People pissing and moaning about instant replay
1. Joe Buck


Whatever, though. To each his own. Maybe intentional walks happening every three games or so is higher on your list than those. Maybe it's not. But it's absolutely asinine to say that a manager with a poor grasp of baseball strategy (eg Ron Washington) misreading the percentages and making a horrible percentage play in a key game (one of his many poor percentage plays in the World Series) means


a.) Managers don't play. To win. The game. and in fact are really trying to play to prolong the game (say....huh?)


b.) We need a radical rule change


You know what it is? It's downright Easterbrookian!

FMTMQR: Needed to write this to calm myself down after that World Series game

Been a few weeks. Anything change while I was gone? What? Gregg has decided to stop pretending he knows his elbow from his poophole when it comes to football, and simply write about how unrealistic science fiction movies are? Excellent, then my work here is do- Oh. Fuck, should have seen that one coming.

Re: the Dolphins/Broncos pillowfight

Yes, the zany final minutes of that contest were a lot of fun to watch. And the naysayers -- perhaps there is a National Association of Naysayers, with a motto such as, "Saying nay since 1908" --

*Crickets*

predicted Tebow couldn't win in the NFL. Now he has.

He actually did about ten months ago too, on Dec. 26 2010. But knowing stuff like that would take effort and research and distract from your incredible naysayers club joke. (Note: I am not standing up for Tebow by pointing this out. Just hating on Greggggggg.)

But Miami, and the officials, aided the comeback. After the first Miami touchdown, Dolphins coach-for-a-few-more-weeks Tony Sparano called timeout to prepare his hands team for an onside kick -- and Denver recovered the onside anyway.

I'll bet the guy who came up with it was undrafted out of Taintgrundle State A&M and has already been cut from four different practice squads.

With 25 seconds remaining in regulation, Tebow hit a well-executed throwback screen to tight end Daniel Fells for a touchdown. Zebras cooperated by failing to notice Denver linemen Chris Kuper and Orlando Franklin downfield before the pass.

Sometimes it's fun to keep it simple and just laugh at Gregg for being wrong about football basics. Linemen cannot cross the line of scrimmage until the ball does or a defender touches the ball on plays where the ball is being thrown downfield past the line of scrimmage. On forward passes that do not cross the line of scrimmage, this rule does not apply and linemen may release immediately. (Full blogging credibility disclosure, or something- I got this wrong the first time and edited it. LOOK AT MR. POT CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK OVER HERE!!!!!!111) That's exactly what happened here. But it's a whole lot easier to say things like that when you don't actually know the rules (despite writing a column that often focuses on them).

The fact that Tebow is religious had nothing to do with the outcome. God does not care who wins football games.

God singular, or Gods plural as in Football Gods? Because I'm pretty sure they saw Wisconsin beat South Dakota 59-10 a few weeks ago and said "Whoa, fuck that, we're going to let Michigan State beat them on a deflected Hail Mary. Running up the score is bullshit and we won't stand for it." Then again, Michigan State beat Florida Atlantic 44-0 earlier this year so... I dunno. Is there a chance that TMQ leans heavily on anecdotal bullshit to back up his preachy attitude?

Declining Football IQ: San Diego led Jersey/B 21-17 with 11 minutes remaining and had third-and-5 on the Jets' 25. The Jets came into the contest with the league's 28th ranked rush defense. So why not run?

Every play! Don't bother throwing on any given play, it's a waste of valuable running time.

Interception.

/sitcom crowd makes "disappointed" noise

Five snaps later, Philip Rivers threw another interception in a situation that might have called for a rush.

Great noncommital language there. Hey, I'm not saying they really really REALLY should have run... but maybe they should have. And the fact they didn't exposes what a diptard Norv Turner is. Wait, never mind, Norv Turner's career record exposes what a diptard Norv Turner is.

Buck-Buck-Brawckkkkkkk: Green Bay leading 33-27 with 2:37 remaining, the Vikings punted -- and I scarcely need to tell you Minnesota never touched the ball again. So what if it was fourth-and-10? The Vikings were playing at home. They entered 1-5 on the season and 4-9 under Leslie Frazier. A successful conversion on fourth-and-10 could have led to an upset of the defending champion Packers and revived the team's season. A punt made a sluggish defeat likely.

They were on their own 36 and had all three timeouts. A failed 4th down, a few runs up the middle, and Green Bay launches a field goal that makes it a two score game. Sure, the Packers had scored 33 points so far, but had gained only 15 yards on their last three drives (including a pair of three and outs). Punting gave Minnesota the chance to get the ball back with better field position and a fresh set of downs. It's not that goshdarn hard to fucking understand.

Frazier knew that if he went for it on fourth down and failed, he would be blamed for the loss; if he ordered a mincing, fraidy-cat punt, the defense would be blamed for failing to get the ball back.

I don't think anyone blamed the defense's inability to stop the Packers before the clock ran out for the loss. Nor would they have blamed Frazier if a 4th and 10 attempt had failed, although they probably could have, because I'm willing to be the percentages favored punting there.

Blame-shifting is a huge factor in NFL coaching decisions.

Making stuff like this up and hoping no readers think about it long enough to realize that it's total malarkey is a huge factor in crafting TMQ every week.

Hell's Sports Bar: Hell's sports bar has 28 wide-screen plasma TVs, although certain blackout restrictions may apply.

One of his least obnoxious bits.

On Sunday, the televisions in Hell's sports bar showed nothing but Seattle at Cleveland, which ended 6-3. The highlight show endlessly replayed Seattle, trailing 3-0 at the end of the third quarter, kicking a field goal from the Cleveland 2-yard line, then never entering Browns territory again.

Followed by one of his most obnoxious recurring complaints.

Put it this way: Jacksonville held the visiting favorite to 7 points, 146 yards on offense and just 2.8 yards per play, yet had to hang on for dear life in the final two minutes. Average out the Saints' 55-point victory on Sunday night and the Jags' 5-point win on Monday night, and you'd have two normal games.

A pair of thirty point wins? If you put those two games together, you also have three offenses that played like shit and one that was awesome. Averaging those out equals two normal NFL games in 1923, not 2011.

Credit the win to Jack of the River going for broke rather than doing the "safe" thing. Jax leading 9-7 'ere the clock struck midnight -- with 1:48 remaining on the clock -- the Jags faced fourth-and-6 on the Baltimore 33. A field goal forces the Ravens to play for a touchdown; a missed field goal gives them possession on their 40, needing only a field goal to win; a punt probably rolls into the end zone for a touchback. Del Rio sent out the place-kicker, whose 51-yard kick was true: Forced to play for a desperation touchdown, Baltimore threw an interception. Often a field goal attempt is the safe course.

A mincing, fraidy-cat field goal!

In this case, it was bold.

Conveniently unmentioned is the fact that Josh Scobee had already nailed two 54 yard field goals that night, so sending him out for a 51 yarder didn't exactly take elephant balls. Also, I love how coaches that make cautious decisions do so to avoid the blame that might come from a bold decision that didn't work out (because coaches are so egotistical!), but coaches that make bold decisions that work out were CERTAINLY not doing so to soak up glory and be credited for the win (because coaches are not egotistical).

Readers including Nora Podolak of Bremerton, Wash., noted that the the Nissan Frontier commercial -- in which a pickup truck races onto an airfield and catches the front wheel of a landing jetliner-- has a tiny-type warning, "Fictionalization. Do not attempt." OK, I won't drive my pickup truck in front of a landing jetliner. But the disclaimer also means the properties of the Nissan Frontier are fictional.

The fake computer-generated aircraft, described by an announcer's voice as a passenger plane, resembles a Boeing 727, which is an obsolete aircraft no U.S. passenger airline has flown in more than a decade. Owing to quirks of this 1960s-era design, such as its flap settings, the Boeing 727 had a high landing speed of 150 to 180 miles per hour. So even if the pickup truck actually could support the nose wheel of a landing jetliner, and even if the truck somehow could drive to precisely the correct spot synchronized with the descending plane, the pickup would need to be moving at least 150 mph. Talk about fictionalization.

And all five of the people in America who didn't think that commercial was just a silly gimmick intended to advertise a truck have just seen the light. Thank you consumer watchdog Gregg.

Consolation for Miami, Indianapolis Seasons-Ticket Holders: Early in the season, TMQ noted this was a good year to be terrible, as two franchise-quality quarterbacks, Andrew Luck and Landry Jones, will be available in the draft.

Landry Jones will bust. Just sayin'. /ducks to avoid heavy objects thrown by mouth-breathing Sooner fans

There's a chance of three franchise quarterbacks, depending on what transpires with

Yeah, I know where you're going, Matt Barkley.

Russell Wilson.

BWAHAHAHAHAH. If Russell Wilson ever starts for a full season for a team that finishes with a winning record, post your address in the comments of this post and I will mail you a dollar. Wilson is a good but not great college QB who is listed at 5'11". There's a chance he's Drew Brees, but there's a much bigger chance he's a tiny guy who will never succeed at QB in the NATIONAL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL LEAGUE. If Wilson is a "franchise-quality QB," Jimmy Clausen was too.

The last time quarterbacks went 1, 2, 3 in the NFL draft was 1999. This is a really good year to be terrible.

Two of those quarterbacks were Tim Couch and Akili Smith, so yeah, it's probably about as bad a year to be terrible as any.

Adventures in Officiating: Scoring on a pick-six against Oakland, Brandon Flowers of Kansas City briefly put his foot on the ball and flexed his muscles. He was flagged for unsportsmanlike conduct for "using the football as a prop." Celebration penalties have become ridiculous. Taunting should be penalized, but what's wrong with celebrating?

Who wrote that, and how did neither Gregg nor his editors catch it before publication?

What's the less obnoxious alternative here:

Red Sox make the playoffs, or we spend three or four weeks after the season ends reading about whether or not a few resting starting pitchers having a few beers caused the whole team to tank down the stretch? On September 28th I would have chosen the latter but now I'm not so sure. Jiminy Fucking Christmas on a pogo stick. LET IT DIE, ESPN. LET IT DIE. It's especially irrelevant since the person whose job it is to keep the team focused has since been canned. Of course, the series of articles about BEERGATE 2011 did give us this great Joe Torre quote:

"It's something we're going to look at and find the best way to approach it, let's put it that way," he said, according to the paper. "That's one thing where I feel comfortable, the fact that I played and I managed. I have no problem talking to someone in regards to baseball, whether it's behavior or otherwise."

That's a lot of words to say "I guess my job is to fix problems for MLB or something. Not sure how to do it though."

TMQR later this week.

Tom Verducci's Figures of Speech Stretch Further Than Reed Richards

Look, I love Tom Verducci. I don't say that with much caveat. He's probably my favorite traditional (read: Old-fashioned) sportswriter working today. He manages to let the game's story tell itself without romanticism or the curmudgeonliness that seems to typify non-advanced stats sportswriters. But man oh man, in this week's print SI, his World Series writeup (I can't find its counterpart online) is chock full of--as Hawk Harrelson might say--streeeeeeeeeetch(es). Observe:

One night last week, due to a lengthy rain delay, the ALCS preempted the Fox talent show The X Factor. Some viewers might not have noticed though, especially the way Rangers manager Ron Washington habitually went all Simon Cowell on his starting pitchers and showed them the door.


.....


Baseball's equivalent of the Geneva Convention, the established protocol of postseason engagement, has been suspended until further notice.


....


Small ball? Great starting pitching? Big payrolls? The might of the Northeast Corridor? None of these supposed October truisms matter in 2011, a prime number year that lacks divisors (other than 1 and itself) and logic.


....


Speaking of prime numbers, [Ron] Washington and St. Louis manager Tony La Russa combined to make a whopping 53 pitching changes.


....




Ok. Whatever. Some brutal and/or overwrought metaphors/analogy/similes in there. But this one is my absolute favorite (read: spit take quality hackery):

For La Russa, the founding father of the modern specialized bullpen, running an eight-man relief unit with a day off every two or three is like Dennis Kozlowski throwing a birthday party or Charlie Sheen on the company dime in Vegas: There is no such thing as excess.


HEYO!