The Miami Dolphins have played ten games this season.
The six I’ve missed, they’ve won.
The four I’ve watched, they’ve lost.
Coincidence, right?
I thought the same until last week. When I tuned into (read: found an illegal internet feed of) Miami’s home game with Oakland, we led 14-8. Within two plays Raiders receiver Jonnie Lee Higgins had returned a punt for a touchdown, putting the team from the West Coast ahead.
I stayed watching. Miami quarterback Chad Pennington drove us down the field, but the game looked over at 4th and 5 way outside of field goal territory. Then the feed dropped... and while I was desperately searching forums for a new naughty link-up to the US TV coverage, Penny hooked up with Ted Ginn Jr for the first down.
Naughty feed found, I tuned in again to see the offense halted again. Then that feed dropped... and the official NFL site told me that Dan Carpenter had booted what turned out to be the winning field goal through the uprights just seconds after I’d been blacked out again.
I didn’t even try to retrieve the feed after that point. I knew what the result would be if I had. Lesson learned.
But now the jinx has got into my head, because the Phins’ most important game of the season – hell, of the last five years – kicks off in a couple of hours. Like the New England Patriots, we’re 6-4 and looking likely to snatch a play-off spot if we can continue some promising recent form. And today we go head-to-head. Not only is it a crucial game for divisional supremacy and Super Bowl contention, it’s massive for me because my hatred for the Patsies is well documented on here. As dreams come true go, it’s right up there with Evangeline Lilly and Drew Barrymore turning up on the doorstep in PVC asking me to teach them both a lesson. Today... I’ll take a Phins win over even that fantasy. I shit you not.
Last time we played (and smashed) the New England Patriots I was sat on a train from London to Bath, following it via text messages from a friend and ESPN updates on my mobile. It was great. But if – and it’s a big if – we’re going to beat the Pats again, I need to see it. And so, against my better judgement, I’ll be tuning into Sky Sports at 6pm. Because I haven’t seen a single one of our victories over the last two years. The last time Miami won and I was actually watching was on Thanksgiving Day 2006, when former Lion Joey Harrington returned to Detroit to guide us to a 27-10 triumph as the boos rained down around him. That was 23rd November, exactly two years ago to that day. And so I can’t help thinking this is the perfect day for my jinx to be lifted.
If it all goes tits, you know who to blame.
Sunday, 23 November 2008
Wednesday, 22 October 2008
Sox fail again
And so the baseball misery continues despite the season already being over.
This time, however, I’m talking about the virtual form of baseball that is MLB 08: The Show.
The Show is, undeniably in my eyes, the best sports game on PS3. And in trying to get the Red Sox’s Floridan failure out of my system, I decided on Tuesday night to start a new franchise on it, and sim straight through to the play-offs (arrogantly, and correctly, assuming that the AI would be intelligent enough to carry me there of its own accord).
First game up in the ALCS was at Fenway, against the Minnesota Twins, with Glen Perkins and Josh Beckett on the mound. As Beckett I was initially unhittable; against Perkins, I couldn’t put a bat on the ball. So when the Twins finally broke Beckett’s resolve and took a 1-0 lead in the 5th, I was panic-stricken. But in the bottom of the same inning JD Drew blooped a single over the infield before Jason Bay blasted a two-run shot against the Green Monster coke bottles.
2 hits, 2-1 lead.
The Twins pulled level next inning, only for me to pound Dennis Reyes in the bottom of the 7th and go up 4-2.
Time to put the game into the hands of my bullpen, which is where it all went tits. Hideki Okajima allowed a couple of men to reach base. With two outs Ben Revere drove one of them home. 4-3. Worse: As the scoring man beat Jason Varitek’s despairing dive at the plate I spotted Revere heading for second and launched the ball towards Dustin Pedroia – but it sailed over his head, enabling Revere to come round and tie the game.
Arse!
Or maybe not. In the bottom of the 8th, at 4-4, I loaded the bases and had JD Drew up with one out. Surely, with Paps warming in preparation for the 9th, I couldn’t lose it from here? Yup. In a moment of Mike Scoscia-style madness I went for a suicide squeeze to bring Jacoby Ellsbury home at third. But Drew’s bunt flew back to the pitcher for an easy home-first double play.
Arse!
All the remained was Paps to fall apart on the mound in the 9th and I’d impressively thrown away a victory that I’d had not one but two shots at tying up. It ended 4-7 with Paps’ era at 27.00.
Game two is tonight, Jon Lester on the mound. Wish me luck.
This time, however, I’m talking about the virtual form of baseball that is MLB 08: The Show.
The Show is, undeniably in my eyes, the best sports game on PS3. And in trying to get the Red Sox’s Floridan failure out of my system, I decided on Tuesday night to start a new franchise on it, and sim straight through to the play-offs (arrogantly, and correctly, assuming that the AI would be intelligent enough to carry me there of its own accord).
First game up in the ALCS was at Fenway, against the Minnesota Twins, with Glen Perkins and Josh Beckett on the mound. As Beckett I was initially unhittable; against Perkins, I couldn’t put a bat on the ball. So when the Twins finally broke Beckett’s resolve and took a 1-0 lead in the 5th, I was panic-stricken. But in the bottom of the same inning JD Drew blooped a single over the infield before Jason Bay blasted a two-run shot against the Green Monster coke bottles.
2 hits, 2-1 lead.
The Twins pulled level next inning, only for me to pound Dennis Reyes in the bottom of the 7th and go up 4-2.
Time to put the game into the hands of my bullpen, which is where it all went tits. Hideki Okajima allowed a couple of men to reach base. With two outs Ben Revere drove one of them home. 4-3. Worse: As the scoring man beat Jason Varitek’s despairing dive at the plate I spotted Revere heading for second and launched the ball towards Dustin Pedroia – but it sailed over his head, enabling Revere to come round and tie the game.
Arse!
Or maybe not. In the bottom of the 8th, at 4-4, I loaded the bases and had JD Drew up with one out. Surely, with Paps warming in preparation for the 9th, I couldn’t lose it from here? Yup. In a moment of Mike Scoscia-style madness I went for a suicide squeeze to bring Jacoby Ellsbury home at third. But Drew’s bunt flew back to the pitcher for an easy home-first double play.
Arse!
All the remained was Paps to fall apart on the mound in the 9th and I’d impressively thrown away a victory that I’d had not one but two shots at tying up. It ended 4-7 with Paps’ era at 27.00.
Game two is tonight, Jon Lester on the mound. Wish me luck.
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
Fair play, Rays
The beautiful thing about baseball is the phrase “there is always tomorrow”.
From late March through September the 30 Major League Baseball teams play 162 games apiece. That’s a lot of homering, walking, striking out, and – if you’re the 2008 New York Yankees – looking miserable. Ha-de-ha-ha, cap wearers across the globe who have no idea what that stupid logo represents. And, no matter whom you support, it also means a lot of muttering the phrase above, because if you lose on a Tuesday, you focus your energies on Wednesday and believe your team will set it straight then. Lose on that Wednesday, and you look to Thursday. And so on and so on, until you give up waiting to win and curse your parents for bringing you up in Pittsburgh in the first place.
Except there’s one time when it’s not such a beautiful thing. And that’s when you lose an elimination game in the play-offs, and for your team there really is no tomorrow, and you find yourself immediately longing for pitchers and catchers to report to training four months down the line. And because you’re so conditioned to setting the record straight less than 24 hours later, knowing you’ll have to wait 24 weeks to do so is all the more agonising, and you mope around with the sickest of sick feelings in your stomach.
And exactly how every Red Sox fan felt on Monday morning.
The Sox lost a nailbiting American League Championship Series decider on Sunday night to the Tampa Bay Rays, and in truth the Floridan upstarts deserved their sizeable scalp. Over the seven game series, just as they had over the 162 game season, the Rays silenced everyone who doubted them and said that 2007’s Worst Team Baseball couldn’t become 2008’s Greatest. Well, they’re four victories over the Philadelphia Phillies away from doing precisely that. And I wish them well, because injuries and overreliance on underperforming players (cheers for the memories, Jason Varitek) and perhaps a slight lack of hunger having already nabbed two World Series in four years caused the Sox to leave the door to their trophy room ajar, and Tampa - after glimpsing baseball's finest accolade glimmering on the other side - rammed straight through to rip it away with power, exuberance, and evident relish.
It was a strange feeling for me, because I’m used to my sports teams underperforming. Crystal Palace, my UK football team, are renowned for snatching defeat from the jays of victory and yoyoing up and down the leagues like a lift in a 100-floor Dubai hotel. Surrey, my cricket side, were a cricketing force for some time but are only too happy to fade away into obscurity every time August hits these days. And my NFL side, the Miami Dolphins... well, they’re the Miami Dolphins.
The Red Sox, however, always come back from the brink when all looks lost. After all those years of failure, four years of (almost) uninterrupted success (don't mention '06) its ‘Nation’ has almost come to expect them to keep on clawing their way back into contention when the chips are down. Perhaps it’s fair to say we’ve become greedy. It’s certainly fair to say we’ve been usurped as comeback kings; now that’s Tampa’s title. And they deserve it.
But the particularly worrying thing about the last couple of weeks isn’t the Sox’ failure to get the job done; it’s that their opponents are here to stay. This Rays team is young, hungry, and tied to the club for some time. Evan Longoria, in his rookie season, already looks like one of the best third basemen in the league, and has over half a decade to run on his super-cheap contact. The dangerous starting rotation of Shields-Garza-Kazmir-Sonnanstine is set for at least the next couple of seasons. Lefty David Price looked unhittable coming out of the pen and is a guaranteed star, whether he is added to that fearsome foursome of starters or used as a closer. BJ Upton’s fielding is a little overrated but man does he crush the ball when on form, and Reid Brignac leads the charge of strong draft picks waiting to make the step up. This is a solid side with quality and depth way down the organisation. And Gabe Gross.
For the Red Sox, their is no upside. It means a much tougher campaign next year, and the one after that, and so on. And perhaps a lot more “there is always tomorrow” being uttered next season. Even so, it can’t come soon enough. But in the meantime: good luck Tampa. You are where you deserve to be.
From late March through September the 30 Major League Baseball teams play 162 games apiece. That’s a lot of homering, walking, striking out, and – if you’re the 2008 New York Yankees – looking miserable. Ha-de-ha-ha, cap wearers across the globe who have no idea what that stupid logo represents. And, no matter whom you support, it also means a lot of muttering the phrase above, because if you lose on a Tuesday, you focus your energies on Wednesday and believe your team will set it straight then. Lose on that Wednesday, and you look to Thursday. And so on and so on, until you give up waiting to win and curse your parents for bringing you up in Pittsburgh in the first place.
Except there’s one time when it’s not such a beautiful thing. And that’s when you lose an elimination game in the play-offs, and for your team there really is no tomorrow, and you find yourself immediately longing for pitchers and catchers to report to training four months down the line. And because you’re so conditioned to setting the record straight less than 24 hours later, knowing you’ll have to wait 24 weeks to do so is all the more agonising, and you mope around with the sickest of sick feelings in your stomach.
And exactly how every Red Sox fan felt on Monday morning.
The Sox lost a nailbiting American League Championship Series decider on Sunday night to the Tampa Bay Rays, and in truth the Floridan upstarts deserved their sizeable scalp. Over the seven game series, just as they had over the 162 game season, the Rays silenced everyone who doubted them and said that 2007’s Worst Team Baseball couldn’t become 2008’s Greatest. Well, they’re four victories over the Philadelphia Phillies away from doing precisely that. And I wish them well, because injuries and overreliance on underperforming players (cheers for the memories, Jason Varitek) and perhaps a slight lack of hunger having already nabbed two World Series in four years caused the Sox to leave the door to their trophy room ajar, and Tampa - after glimpsing baseball's finest accolade glimmering on the other side - rammed straight through to rip it away with power, exuberance, and evident relish.
It was a strange feeling for me, because I’m used to my sports teams underperforming. Crystal Palace, my UK football team, are renowned for snatching defeat from the jays of victory and yoyoing up and down the leagues like a lift in a 100-floor Dubai hotel. Surrey, my cricket side, were a cricketing force for some time but are only too happy to fade away into obscurity every time August hits these days. And my NFL side, the Miami Dolphins... well, they’re the Miami Dolphins.
The Red Sox, however, always come back from the brink when all looks lost. After all those years of failure, four years of (almost) uninterrupted success (don't mention '06) its ‘Nation’ has almost come to expect them to keep on clawing their way back into contention when the chips are down. Perhaps it’s fair to say we’ve become greedy. It’s certainly fair to say we’ve been usurped as comeback kings; now that’s Tampa’s title. And they deserve it.
But the particularly worrying thing about the last couple of weeks isn’t the Sox’ failure to get the job done; it’s that their opponents are here to stay. This Rays team is young, hungry, and tied to the club for some time. Evan Longoria, in his rookie season, already looks like one of the best third basemen in the league, and has over half a decade to run on his super-cheap contact. The dangerous starting rotation of Shields-Garza-Kazmir-Sonnanstine is set for at least the next couple of seasons. Lefty David Price looked unhittable coming out of the pen and is a guaranteed star, whether he is added to that fearsome foursome of starters or used as a closer. BJ Upton’s fielding is a little overrated but man does he crush the ball when on form, and Reid Brignac leads the charge of strong draft picks waiting to make the step up. This is a solid side with quality and depth way down the organisation. And Gabe Gross.
For the Red Sox, their is no upside. It means a much tougher campaign next year, and the one after that, and so on. And perhaps a lot more “there is always tomorrow” being uttered next season. Even so, it can’t come soon enough. But in the meantime: good luck Tampa. You are where you deserve to be.
Sunday, 19 October 2008
It’s been a while
And for that, I apologise.
Contrary to how it must look, I haven’t given up on this ole blog. It’s just been a crazy month with work/a trip to Rome/other stuff and I’ve taken my eye off the ball like an offensive lineman excitedly snapping up fumble, only to see it ripped from his hands and taken to the house. (Sorry, Pete Kendall, couldn’t resist).
Anyway. Hello again.
During the down period the Rays have been the Rays – winning tough games with ease when everyone had basically written them off – and the Sox have been the Sox – coming back into play-off contention from the most precarious of positions. Over in the NFL the QB injury crisis continues with quality names like Tony Romo, Carson Palmer and Jon Kitna (just kidding) following one Mr Brady towards the treatment table, while the Tennessee Titans look like the best team in football.
Wait, what?
No, I just checked, and that really is the case. For now.
Proper constructive analysis of some/most/all of the above to follow in the coming days. Beginning with a deliriously happy – or, more likely, head-in-hands sad – appraisal of tonight’s game seven showdown between Tampa and Boston. It’d be the typical of the Sox to come back from the dead and win it all again, just like ’04 and ’07. But it would also be jarringly characteristic of those damn Rays to drag themselves back from the brink like they’ve been doing all season, in what might be the most important game of all.
You call it. I really don’t want to.
Youk, Papi, Paps, Tek: just one more win. Please?
Contrary to how it must look, I haven’t given up on this ole blog. It’s just been a crazy month with work/a trip to Rome/other stuff and I’ve taken my eye off the ball like an offensive lineman excitedly snapping up fumble, only to see it ripped from his hands and taken to the house. (Sorry, Pete Kendall, couldn’t resist).
Anyway. Hello again.
During the down period the Rays have been the Rays – winning tough games with ease when everyone had basically written them off – and the Sox have been the Sox – coming back into play-off contention from the most precarious of positions. Over in the NFL the QB injury crisis continues with quality names like Tony Romo, Carson Palmer and Jon Kitna (just kidding) following one Mr Brady towards the treatment table, while the Tennessee Titans look like the best team in football.
Wait, what?
No, I just checked, and that really is the case. For now.
Proper constructive analysis of some/most/all of the above to follow in the coming days. Beginning with a deliriously happy – or, more likely, head-in-hands sad – appraisal of tonight’s game seven showdown between Tampa and Boston. It’d be the typical of the Sox to come back from the dead and win it all again, just like ’04 and ’07. But it would also be jarringly characteristic of those damn Rays to drag themselves back from the brink like they’ve been doing all season, in what might be the most important game of all.
You call it. I really don’t want to.
Youk, Papi, Paps, Tek: just one more win. Please?
Sunday, 5 October 2008
Fuku, Cubbies
You know, I almost felt sorry for the Chicago Cubs.
They’ve arguably been the best team in baseball this season. Their fans haven’t seen them win a world series since 1908. In many ways, they’re a little like the Red Sox were until 2004, when we finally broke the hoodoo that had hovered over Fenway for 86 years.
And yet, when they reached the Play-offs, they choked yet again - getting thumped 0-3 in a best of five series by the Los Angeles Dodgers. Anyone with an iota of sympathy had to feel for them.
One thread on one internet forum changed all that.
Read this. And note that at the start of the season they were treating Japanese import Kosuke Fukudome like a hero.
http://www.prosportsdaily.com/forums/showthread.php?t=278280
Sure, it may be just one set of fans in one corner of the internet, but my instinct having read reports elsewhere is that this isn’t just an idiot minority.
I’m suddenly glad that the Dodgers handed you your collective ass, Cubbies.
They’ve arguably been the best team in baseball this season. Their fans haven’t seen them win a world series since 1908. In many ways, they’re a little like the Red Sox were until 2004, when we finally broke the hoodoo that had hovered over Fenway for 86 years.
And yet, when they reached the Play-offs, they choked yet again - getting thumped 0-3 in a best of five series by the Los Angeles Dodgers. Anyone with an iota of sympathy had to feel for them.
One thread on one internet forum changed all that.
Read this. And note that at the start of the season they were treating Japanese import Kosuke Fukudome like a hero.
http://www.prosportsdaily.com/forums/showthread.php?t=278280
Sure, it may be just one set of fans in one corner of the internet, but my instinct having read reports elsewhere is that this isn’t just an idiot minority.
I’m suddenly glad that the Dodgers handed you your collective ass, Cubbies.
Friday, 26 September 2008
Magic fish
One victory, however emphatic, can't completely transform a poor team into a Super Bowl contender.
However, one emphatic victory over a Super Bowl contender can completely transform a poor team.
And so, after my rant about their recent form last week, the Miami Dolphins did the unthinkable on Sunday night: thumping perennial Vince Lombardi trophy candidates the New England Patriots 38-13 and instantly giving their long-suffering fans hope that maybe this isn't just another false dawn. Maybe, maybe the Phins are back.
The crucial thing is that while Ronnie Brown quite rightly earned the plaudits – scoring four touchdowns on the ground, as well as slinging a perfect six-point pass to getting-better-by-the-week tight end Anthony Fasano - this was very much a team win. Offensive co-ordinator Dan Henning's gameplan worked to perfection, with Chad Pennington's game management behind center near flawless and all of his receivers (is Greg Camarillo the next Wes Welker?) standing up to be counted. Quarterback coach David Lee's single wing formation – something he used to the full using Darren McFadden and Felix Jones at Arkansas – was a masterstroke, and the defense, so horrific last week in the Arizona desert, suddenly remembered how to play.
It was terrific.
And of course, I missed it all.
I'd been at an engagement party in London for two close friends and, en route back to my home town of Bath, had – expecting it to be the Pats doing the thumping - decided against getting any score updates. Then another mate texted 'Presume you know the Phins score' and, of course, I had to look. I pulled up the ESPN website while the missus used the loo at Paddington, expecting it to read MIA 0 NWE 40. Instead it read MIA 14 NWE 6. We boarded the train and I dared look again. MIA 21 NWE 6. The train departed and I was back on my phone. MIA 28 NWE 6.
!!!
Carriage windows were gloriously (semi-silently) pounded. “Fuckyesyesyescomeon” was mouthed at the wife on more than one occasion. She didn't know whether to laugh or act terrified, and so went for a little bit of both. I tried reading my book – Michael Lewis's outstanding The Blind Side – but all the sentences seemed to read 'miami new england miami. ronnie brown ricky williams miami miami new england' And so I kept checking my phone, and we kept on scoring. Until finally: MIA 38 NWE 13 – F appeared.
Astonishing.
And although I missed the greatest shock of the decade, and my team was in it, I've no regrets. Because I know that had I rushed home to catch it live on the internet it just wouldn't have panned out the way it did. I never goes to plan when the Dolphins are playing and I'm watching. Which is why when Tony Sparano takes us back to the Super Bowl in five years time I'll be at home, with the lights off, cowering under the table, trying not to think of the letters E, S, P, and N.
As for texting me? Don't even think about it.
However, one emphatic victory over a Super Bowl contender can completely transform a poor team.
And so, after my rant about their recent form last week, the Miami Dolphins did the unthinkable on Sunday night: thumping perennial Vince Lombardi trophy candidates the New England Patriots 38-13 and instantly giving their long-suffering fans hope that maybe this isn't just another false dawn. Maybe, maybe the Phins are back.
The crucial thing is that while Ronnie Brown quite rightly earned the plaudits – scoring four touchdowns on the ground, as well as slinging a perfect six-point pass to getting-better-by-the-week tight end Anthony Fasano - this was very much a team win. Offensive co-ordinator Dan Henning's gameplan worked to perfection, with Chad Pennington's game management behind center near flawless and all of his receivers (is Greg Camarillo the next Wes Welker?) standing up to be counted. Quarterback coach David Lee's single wing formation – something he used to the full using Darren McFadden and Felix Jones at Arkansas – was a masterstroke, and the defense, so horrific last week in the Arizona desert, suddenly remembered how to play.
It was terrific.
And of course, I missed it all.
I'd been at an engagement party in London for two close friends and, en route back to my home town of Bath, had – expecting it to be the Pats doing the thumping - decided against getting any score updates. Then another mate texted 'Presume you know the Phins score' and, of course, I had to look. I pulled up the ESPN website while the missus used the loo at Paddington, expecting it to read MIA 0 NWE 40. Instead it read MIA 14 NWE 6. We boarded the train and I dared look again. MIA 21 NWE 6. The train departed and I was back on my phone. MIA 28 NWE 6.
!!!
Carriage windows were gloriously (semi-silently) pounded. “Fuckyesyesyescomeon” was mouthed at the wife on more than one occasion. She didn't know whether to laugh or act terrified, and so went for a little bit of both. I tried reading my book – Michael Lewis's outstanding The Blind Side – but all the sentences seemed to read 'miami new england miami. ronnie brown ricky williams miami miami new england' And so I kept checking my phone, and we kept on scoring. Until finally: MIA 38 NWE 13 – F appeared.
Astonishing.
And although I missed the greatest shock of the decade, and my team was in it, I've no regrets. Because I know that had I rushed home to catch it live on the internet it just wouldn't have panned out the way it did. I never goes to plan when the Dolphins are playing and I'm watching. Which is why when Tony Sparano takes us back to the Super Bowl in five years time I'll be at home, with the lights off, cowering under the table, trying not to think of the letters E, S, P, and N.
As for texting me? Don't even think about it.
Monday, 22 September 2008
A fellow Fin writes...
I'm still too delirious about yesterday's Dolphins result to make any sort of sense of it, so I've invited a guest speaker for the day. Step forward my fellow Fin friend Tony, AKA Strathclyde Eagle, for his thoughts on the shock of the decade...
(Mine to come tomorrow.)
'The 2007 Miami Dolphins might have been the most scarring sporting season I have ever experienced. The 1-15 disaster was week after week of torment, with repeated three-point defeats (Washington, Houston, etc.) giving way to humiliations (the game at Buffalo possibly being the worst). Even the sole win against Baltimore was gut-wrenching, as Matt Stover pulled an overtime kick wide-left that would have left us staring down the barrel of an 0-16 season.
With rebuilding now being the only option I decided to take the smart decision and emotionally detach myself from this season. It worked for the inevitable week one defeat to the Favre-led Jets, but slightly less so for the week two shocker in Arizona where the Cardinals ran the lead to 31-3 against a team which couldn't even get a stop when it put twelve men on the field.
So needless to say I wasn't particularly optimistic about our visit to Gillette Stadium yesterday, even with downright smug Patriots having Matt Cassel taking the snaps meant for Tom Brady. It might not be a blowout, but I still suspected they would win handily, probably covering the thirteen-point spread. I could live with that, just keep them under 30 and let us put some points on the board. That'll do. Just get it done, get on with the bye week and let me reflect upon the fact that the Cowboys drafted Marion Barber a whole hundred places below Ronnie Brown in the 2005 draft.
And so I carried on with one of my Sunday nights in my 2008 NFL season plan. No Sky Sports, just chilling out, planning to walk the dog and avoid any sight of Strictly Come Dancing. Then the cpfc.org NFL thread let me in on something - the Fins were leading in Foxborough. Nothing to get excited about, early days.
Only the lead stayed, and then grew. Fifteen points up at the break, three touchdowns for Ronnie Brown. Not a lot of yards, but a lot of points. Then the editor of this blog sent me a text message from his frustrated position on a train, asking for updates. I was going to be unpopular with my dog. When I only wanted to stare at a laptop screen a friend with no fondness for the NFL phoned - arrggh!
When the call finished half-an-hour later I went to look for another update. We didn't just still have the lead, we had extended it. NFL.com gamecenter confirmed it, as did the fact that Finheaven had threads crashing left, right andcenter centre. Good grief, could this really be happening? Were we really going to win a meaningful game in New England of all places? Just before 9pm UK time the final score was confirmed, 38-13 to the Fins. A feeling of happy disbelief stayed with me for the rest of the night.
I'm still not all the way back with this team. The only good memories in recent years have been a few wins against the Patriots when we've been underdogs, and I'm consequently about as guarded with the Fins as I was with women in my teens, but for the moment there is something to smile about. More than that there is a result to be proud of, and finally signs of things going in the right direction.'
(Mine to come tomorrow.)
'The 2007 Miami Dolphins might have been the most scarring sporting season I have ever experienced. The 1-15 disaster was week after week of torment, with repeated three-point defeats (Washington, Houston, etc.) giving way to humiliations (the game at Buffalo possibly being the worst). Even the sole win against Baltimore was gut-wrenching, as Matt Stover pulled an overtime kick wide-left that would have left us staring down the barrel of an 0-16 season.
With rebuilding now being the only option I decided to take the smart decision and emotionally detach myself from this season. It worked for the inevitable week one defeat to the Favre-led Jets, but slightly less so for the week two shocker in Arizona where the Cardinals ran the lead to 31-3 against a team which couldn't even get a stop when it put twelve men on the field.
So needless to say I wasn't particularly optimistic about our visit to Gillette Stadium yesterday, even with downright smug Patriots having Matt Cassel taking the snaps meant for Tom Brady. It might not be a blowout, but I still suspected they would win handily, probably covering the thirteen-point spread. I could live with that, just keep them under 30 and let us put some points on the board. That'll do. Just get it done, get on with the bye week and let me reflect upon the fact that the Cowboys drafted Marion Barber a whole hundred places below Ronnie Brown in the 2005 draft.
And so I carried on with one of my Sunday nights in my 2008 NFL season plan. No Sky Sports, just chilling out, planning to walk the dog and avoid any sight of Strictly Come Dancing. Then the cpfc.org NFL thread let me in on something - the Fins were leading in Foxborough. Nothing to get excited about, early days.
Only the lead stayed, and then grew. Fifteen points up at the break, three touchdowns for Ronnie Brown. Not a lot of yards, but a lot of points. Then the editor of this blog sent me a text message from his frustrated position on a train, asking for updates. I was going to be unpopular with my dog. When I only wanted to stare at a laptop screen a friend with no fondness for the NFL phoned - arrggh!
When the call finished half-an-hour later I went to look for another update. We didn't just still have the lead, we had extended it. NFL.com gamecenter confirmed it, as did the fact that Finheaven had threads crashing left, right and
I'm still not all the way back with this team. The only good memories in recent years have been a few wins against the Patriots when we've been underdogs, and I'm consequently about as guarded with the Fins as I was with women in my teens, but for the moment there is something to smile about. More than that there is a result to be proud of, and finally signs of things going in the right direction.'
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