I Hate You, Tom Brady

I really did not want to write this article. I really hoped that the outcome this past Sunday would have been different and I would be writing a bragging, celebratory post boasting about New England's failures and dangling first place over their heads. Sadly, that eternal itch I can't scratch, Tom Brady, did it again. God, I hate him. While the Jets fell 29-26 in an overtime heart breaker to the Patriots, all was not lost. Yes, a win's a win and a loss is a loss. I'm not one for moral victories, they don't affect the standings so they don't count. However, Sunday's battle in Foxborough proved one thing to the world: these are not the same untouchable Patriots that we've come to expect throughout the Brady/Belichick era. Of course Pats fans like to think nothing's changed, but it has.

WTF

Every now and then today's athletes and other major figures in the sports world need to be called out for their insane behavior, ridiculous press conferences, peculiar tweets, and just general outlandish behavior. Maybe a little more than "every now and then," since this crazy shit happens all the time. Sure, Deadspin calls them out on it, but is that really enough? As fans and constant critics of our favorite sports personalities, we share in the responsibility of calling out their bullshit.

Where to even begin... How about with the breaking news? Miami Marlins' President Larry Beinfast released a statement this afternoon firing Fidel Castro's biggest (and only) fan in Miami, Marlins manager Ozzie Guillen. "After careful consideration following the disappointment of the 2012 season, we decided to dismiss Ozzie," Beinfast said. Now, the MLB's resident lunatic skipper was brought in to lead the relocated and completely renovated Marlins to victory. Unfortunately for Miami, they ended up with a pathetic 69-93 record. Even more unfortunately is that if Guillen doesn't find a new managerial job before the 2013 season, the Marlins will be eating the $7.5 million owed to him over the remaining three years of his contract. Sucks to suck, huh?

Tebowing™ And Beyond

Sunday marks the day Jets fans both anxiously anticipate and slightly dread each and every season - the inevitable game against the Patriots in New England. Of course, the rivalry between the Jets and Pats extends past football and feeds into the ever present New York versus Boston battle. Since Rex Ryan took over as head coach and drafted quarterback Mark Sanchez in 2009, the Pats lead the Jets only four games to three in regular season play. This week's match up is extremely important as all four teams in the AFC East have identical records of 3-3. With the Jets having won two divisional games already, beating the Patriots would bring them to 3-0 in the AFC East and give them a great advantage as the season progresses. But the question remains, just how will Rex's Jets beat Brady and Belichick?

See You Next Season

 

When Jeter went down it was like you could physically see the remaining Yankees deflating. Not that the Bombers were on top of their game throughout the ALDS series against the Orioles, but at least there was little bit of fire in their eyes. I'm one of those fans that sticks by my teams, especially the Yankees, to the last pitch. However, during the ALCS, it was apparent early on that the Yanks just weren't all there. After losing the Captain in extra innings during the first game, the future seemed bleak. Still, we hung on, we believed, but game two was even flatter than the first - even with Yanks pitcher, Hiroki Kuroda, hurling a perfect game through five innings (and a one hitter through six!) Game two blended with game three and by the time game four was rained out, we found ourselves almost thankful that we lived to die another day. And then the day came. The Yanks trailed the Tigers 0-3 in the series, but C.C. was set to take the mound. Everyone has an off day, and unfortunately Thursday, October 18th was Sabathia's day to be off his game. The game was ugly.

Touchdown, So That's Good?

As a Jets season ticket holder and die hard fan, you find your weeks dictated by either the atrocities committed against Gang Green or the unbelievable wins that they somehow held on to pull off. The Jets are known to bring you up to the point where you think they may actually have a shot at greatness, only to bring you down and stomp out your hopes and dreams (hello, Brett Favre.) This year's been one of the rougher seasons. Though the Jets were 2-3 heading into week six where they'd face the post-Peyton Manning Indianapolis Colts at home in the Meadowlands, the wins were ugly and the losses were pretty much unwatchable. Of course week one's 48-28 win over Buffalo was beautiful and the unexpected close game with the previously undefeated Texans last week was an almost-win that was almost cause for celebration, overall it hasn't been pretty.

So Long Sweet Captain

On Saturday night one of the most devastating things to ever happen in New York Yankees history took place. Just months after we watched in horror as Mariano Rivera was carted off the field, Derek Jeter overextended himself playing on an already bruised ankle without taking even a day off. The captain is pretty much the epitome of a team player. The man got his 3,000th hit in incredible fashion, but was happier that his team won the game that it came in. His team clinched the AL East pennant midway through the last game of the season and as his teammate celebrated, Jeter's expression never changed and as he explained, they still had a game to finish and win.

 

So on Saturday night, when Jeter fielded a ball in the top of the twelfth inning and neither finished the play nor got up afterwards, we knew something was terribly wrong. The captain just laid there, with pure anguish and pain on his face. The stadium went quiet, hell, it felt like all of New York went quiet. With the exception of seeing Mariano carted off this past May with a torn ACL, I have never been in such a deep depression surrounding the Yankees. Sure I've seen them knocked out of the playoffs and even lose the World Series, but the shock and horror of losing the heart and soul of the organization is a pain almost impossible to shake. When Mo got hurt we thought his career might be over. We prayed and now we've  seen  him  back  in  pinstripes  to throw out the ceremonial first pitch at last Wednesday's ALCS game three. When Jeter went down we

knew it was bad, when he was carried off the field putting no weight at all on his left leg we knew it was worse, but the announcement by Joe Girardi after the game sealed his fate. Broken ankle, six week recovery, out for the remainder of the 2012 postseason. Even typing those words now is hard. It's bad enough that Jeet won't play, but on Sunday it was announced that he's in Charlotte, North Carolina meeting with undoubtedly the best foot specialist in the country and he will not be traveling to Detroit with the team for games three, four, and five of the ALCS.

Bring on Verlander, the Prince, and the Triple Crown

If you live under a rock or my blog is your only source of sports news, then the fact that the Yankees beat the Orioles in last night's game five is actually news to you! Still, it's worth celebrating all over again. With Arod benched, (a decision I found totally ballsy and equally as necessary being that he was 0-12 against rightys throughout the ALDS,) the rest of the line up began to wake up. The Yanks battled their way to a 3-1 win over the O's thanks to Curtis Granderson remembering how to make contact between bat and ball and a stellar pitching performance by ace C.C. Sabathia.

Where legends are made

Five game series are such a mess. Anything can happen in five games - anything, including the Orioles miraculously bringing the Yankees to game five. The nearly impossible has happened. Who would have thought that with all of the pitching issues the Bombers have encountered this season, that it would be the batters we're all worried about. The majority of the backlash is going straight at Alex Rodriguez, and at full speed too. If you're like me, you're having the repeated flashbacks of the Raul Ibanez game tying and winning home runs over and over in your mind. Yesterday Arod was bumped down from third to fifth in the batting order.

RAH-OOL

Last night, I had the honor of witnessing live one of the most incredible baseball games I have ever watched, (and growing up in my house, Yankee games are practically religious holidays.) My mother, one of the biggest Yankee fans I know, and I headed to the Bronx for game three of the American League Division Series where our Yanks would be seeking a 2-1 lead over the (normally pathetic, but miraculously good this year) Baltimore Orioles.

Mission 28

American League East Division Champs. God that has a great ring to hit, don't you think? The twenty-seven time (I love saying that,) World Series Champs started their postseason run this past Sunday against division 'rivals' the Baltimore Orioles. Now, yes there was a fantastic pennant race this year, but it still makes me chuckle to think that the Orioles had a legitimate shot at winning the division and that they are a valid hurdle in the Yankees chase for a 28th ring, or more importantly, Jeter's sixth. Game was a total blow out. The Yankees bats came out in full force and C.C. Sabathia walked away a winner with a final score of 7-2. Last night was a bit of a different story. Yankee legend, Andy Pettitte took the mound, and at his age and experience level, you really can't complain about the outing. Pettitte gave up three runs on seven hits in 7 1/3 innings. Realistically, the Yanks are home run hitters, if home runs aren't hit, games will not be won. It's as simple as that. Men were left on base almost every inning. Mark Teixeira is practically the new Jorge Posada post injury now when he runs the bases. Derek Jeter made an error (yes, you read that right, Mr. Wonderful straight up fucked up.) But somehow, with all of the fielding screw ups, only three little, annoying, orange birds crossed the plate. Tomorrow, the series comes back to the Bronx (and yours truly will be in attendance!) Let's hope actual home field advantage, a day off, and a stadium full of Bombers faithful will lift the spirits and that the wind carries those balls long, high, and GONE! The road to 28 is only 10 wins long, let's go!

Jet-lagged

The New York Jets are quite possibly the hardest sports franchise to write about with the most available material. Of course, the story of the season is the Son of Christ himself, Tim Tebow, playing nice as the back up to fourth year starter and perennial mediocre quarterback, Mark Sanchez. Now, you may remember those happy years following Sanchez's fifth overall selection in the 2009 NFL draft. The years when the defense was at  the top of the league, when the 'ground and pound' offensive was utilized instead of talked about and it actually worked, and when, by the graces of god, the New York Jets appeared in the AFC Championship game in back to back years. Flash forward two years and these, my friends, are the dark ages. Although, most ages for the Jets are dark ages. Any seasons without the names Namath or Chrebet on the roster, are most likely doomed for failure. This season, even though only five weeks have come and passed, is one of those seasons. Week in and week out Gang Green faithful prepare for inevitable heartache, even the wins feel like losses.

Here We Go Again

So you've made it here, I suppose a thank you is in order. My loyal followers know that my blogging history has gone through many twists, turns, and transformations in the past, and yet, we meet again. I'm a writer, by craft and nature, but life's inevitable shifts seem to have a habit of pulling me away from my first love. Many of my blogging ventures in the past were brought about by the thought that as a journalism student, I was wasting my time, talent, and ungodly amount of articles by not having a blogosphere to post them in. This time, it's different. I now have a degree and a job (!!!!!!) and while my career path has deviated slightly from my editorial goal, I find that it's essential that I keep myself writing. After all, as a self-proclaimed Twitterholic, there's only so much I can express in 140 characters, (hence the obscenely high tweet count.)