I don't know why I've got all this stuck in my head today, but here's another bit of goofiness from the Syracuse NBC affiliate's morning news program. You know how most metropolitan areas, if not all of them, will include on their morning news a traffic segment so they can relate where trouble spots are on the local highways and such? Very useful, yes.
What's weird about this one is that, for reasons passing understanding, the guy who does the traffic reports here broadcasts them from his office. He's actually sitting at his paper-covered desk, looking into the camera and talking about the volume in I-690 and such. Is the newsdesk too small to accomodate this guy for his thirty seconds or so of on-air time?
The personal blog of author Kelly Sedinger, chronicling the adventures of one overalls-clad wanderer.
Monday, February 03, 2003
Signs that the guy on TV is not listening to what is actually being said by the person to whom he is speaking, as heard this morning on Syracuse's NBC affiliate:
Dramatis Personae: The TV Weatherman, and some woman who just won the station's daily contest and is on the phone.
Weatherman: Hi! You've just won the contest! So what do you do?
Woman who's won the contest: I am a stay-at-home mom.
Weatherman: Do you have kids?
Anchorwoman sitting nearby, politely listening: Uhhhhh....I think she said....
Weatherman: Oh....um....congratulations on winning! (valiantly tries to avoid turning red, but fails)
This is the same weatherman who a few weeks ago, during a weather segment, stepped off-camera while saying, "I'm going to step off-camera now so you folks at home don't see me scratching my nose, because it's really itchy today." And this is the same guy who, a few weeks before that, said on-air, "I don't really believe all that stuff about global warming."
The scary part? His forecasts are generally accurate.
Dramatis Personae: The TV Weatherman, and some woman who just won the station's daily contest and is on the phone.
Weatherman: Hi! You've just won the contest! So what do you do?
Woman who's won the contest: I am a stay-at-home mom.
Weatherman: Do you have kids?
Anchorwoman sitting nearby, politely listening: Uhhhhh....I think she said....
Weatherman: Oh....um....congratulations on winning! (valiantly tries to avoid turning red, but fails)
This is the same weatherman who a few weeks ago, during a weather segment, stepped off-camera while saying, "I'm going to step off-camera now so you folks at home don't see me scratching my nose, because it's really itchy today." And this is the same guy who, a few weeks before that, said on-air, "I don't really believe all that stuff about global warming."
The scary part? His forecasts are generally accurate.
Just a reminder: one week from tomorrow, the first round of the James Bond film score reissues will be out. The big release here is the almost-complete score to On Her Majesty's Secret Service, but all of these releases are great news.
The second round of reissues hits on February 25. The big one there will be You Only Live Twice, which features some of the most achingly beautiful scoring John Barry ever did, for any movie.
The second round of reissues hits on February 25. The big one there will be You Only Live Twice, which features some of the most achingly beautiful scoring John Barry ever did, for any movie.
Sunday, February 02, 2003
Sheila Viehl will be doing something interesting: allowing aspiring writers to follow in detail the process of writing a book, from pitching the idea to the editor to the actual writing and beyond. She hasn't ironed out the kinks yet, and it will probably take the form of a private e-mail loop, and she'll probably be limiting it to actual aspiring writers, but anyone interested should keep an eye on StarLines for updates.
(I probably won't participate because I've got about 9,344 other things going on right now. But it sounds worthwhile.)
(I probably won't participate because I've got about 9,344 other things going on right now. But it sounds worthwhile.)
Only Entertainment Weekly could take something as fun as debating the best Simpsons episodes ever and shoot it full of annoying critic-speak (is "didacticism" even a word?). And they omit my personal faves: the one where Homer joins the Stonecutters; the wickedly funny X-Files parody ep; the even funnier -- and wickeder -- Mary Poppins sendup, "Sherry Bobbins"; and the one where Homer takes over the Pee-wee football team. (Bart: "Dad, I've got some bad news." Homer: "Awww, your mother isn't pregnant, is she?") Oh well, the article is amusing enough, EW's annoying writing aside.
The worst Simpsons episode? Hmmmm....there was one where Homer sets up a webpage, which then leads into an unsuccessful parody of the cult-show The Prisoner; Barney Gumble's realization that he's an alcoholic seems strange for a show that once did an episode with the moral "To alcohol: the cause of, and solution to, life's problems"...but worst of all is the one where Maude Flanders dies. Ugh.
The worst Simpsons episode? Hmmmm....there was one where Homer sets up a webpage, which then leads into an unsuccessful parody of the cult-show The Prisoner; Barney Gumble's realization that he's an alcoholic seems strange for a show that once did an episode with the moral "To alcohol: the cause of, and solution to, life's problems"...but worst of all is the one where Maude Flanders dies. Ugh.
Kevin Drum asks of a number of seminal events in recent history: Where were you when they happened?
In order:
:: Nixon's resignation. I was one month shy of my fourth birthday; the earliest I recall even knowing there was a person called "The President" was in 1976, when our teacher told us about the election that year. Thus, I was pretty much totally unaware of Nixon. (A funny story in my family is that my sister, who was in second grade in 1972, managed to get her classmates so riled up by badmouthing Nixon -- my parents supported McGovern, and to this day are proud to have done so -- that the teacher had to call off the class's mock election.)
:: President Reagan's shooting. I was in a fourth-grade classroom when my teacher walked in and told us what had happened. I don't recall the time of day, but the event was still so fresh that she informed us that "the President's press secretary" had been killed. (James Brady was seriously wounded, but not killed as was originally reported.)
:: Challenger. I must be the only person I know who didn't see any footage of this event in school. One of my classmates told me about it in the hall between classes. (He was laughing, which is perfectly in character because he was, well, an ass.) I didn't see the coverage until I got home around 4:00.
:: The OJ Simpson verdict. I was in a training class with the company I worked for at the time, in a conference room in another town. Someone slipped down the hall into another office during a coffee break to find out what the verdict was. (I've often wondered if that court reporter, the one who read the verdict, is ever annoyed that her "big moment in history" has been recorded with her stumbling on the pronunciation of "Orenthal".)
:: 9-11-01. I was in my car, driving to work, listening to NPR's Morning Edition. The event was still so fresh that Bob Edwards had not even broken into the show's regular features for the day at that time, although he had done so by the time I got to work. I remember someone speculating that LaGuardia's radar-guidance systems had gone horribly awry, and I remember my thoughts turning to the premiere episode of The Lone Gunmen, the spin-off television series from The X-Files. In that episode a government plot to smash a jetliner into the World Trade Center is averted. (Even though the show only lasted a single season, I wonder if that episode will ever see the light of day again.) Like the Challenger disaster, I saw no footage of this event until I got home later that day, as our office had no television. One of my coworkers went to a previously-arranged lunch meeting with a client at Applebees, and she came back in the afternoon to tell us how horrific it all was. In the morning, our work day began at 9:30 am, so when we all arrived at work the Twin Towers were both burning. We got a slightly later start than usual, with a moment of silence, and then we began our work (but kept the radio on). Just when the awful reality of what had happened was only beginning to set in...the radio announcer broke in with news of the strike on the Pentagon. The job I had at the time was a telesales job, and I recall the instructions coming from our managers: "Do not call accounts in New York City; for the foreseeable future we cannot ship via next-day air."
:: Columbia. I had just got our daughter out of bed and was turning on the TV so she could watch cartoons, and I noticed a news anchor on ABC, which struck me as odd since there generally is no news coverage going on at that time of morning. I channel-flipped to CBS and saw a talking head there as well, and thus knew that something was up; then I saw the CBS headline, "Contact lost with space shuttle".
Kevin wonders why we always seem to wonder why we remember the bad events but not the good ones; I do remember some good ones, but by and large he's right: it's the horrible events that sear into our consciousness.
:: Princess Diana's wedding. I actually remember watching this, because my mother has a long-standing fascination with the British Royal Family.
:: Princess Diana's death. I was working the night shift at the restaurant; it was close to midnight when my wife called and told me what had happened.
:: Oklahoma City. Another phone call from the wife, but during the day shift.
:: The release of the hostages in 1981. Fourth grade; we had the classroom television on so we could watch the inauguration of President Reagan. Cheers broke out as soon as the announcer broke in and announced the hostages' departure from Iran.
:: Three Mile Island. I don't recall the exact breaking-out of this event, but I recall clearly the incredible tension on the news each evening. We lived in West Virginia at the time, about a three-hour drive from TMI.
:: The fall of the Berlin Wall. I genuinely don't recall where I was, but it was a month or two into my freshman year in college. I seem to recall it was Music Theory class, but I could be wrong on that point.
:: John Lennon's murder. The news of this was on Good Morning America as I got ready for school.
:: Frank Sinatra's death. I couldn't sleep, so I got up and went to the living room to watch some TV for a bit. When I channel-flipped by CNN, I caught them in the middle of one of those "life retrospectives" of the sort that are only done upon the passing of a significant person.
In order:
:: Nixon's resignation. I was one month shy of my fourth birthday; the earliest I recall even knowing there was a person called "The President" was in 1976, when our teacher told us about the election that year. Thus, I was pretty much totally unaware of Nixon. (A funny story in my family is that my sister, who was in second grade in 1972, managed to get her classmates so riled up by badmouthing Nixon -- my parents supported McGovern, and to this day are proud to have done so -- that the teacher had to call off the class's mock election.)
:: President Reagan's shooting. I was in a fourth-grade classroom when my teacher walked in and told us what had happened. I don't recall the time of day, but the event was still so fresh that she informed us that "the President's press secretary" had been killed. (James Brady was seriously wounded, but not killed as was originally reported.)
:: Challenger. I must be the only person I know who didn't see any footage of this event in school. One of my classmates told me about it in the hall between classes. (He was laughing, which is perfectly in character because he was, well, an ass.) I didn't see the coverage until I got home around 4:00.
:: The OJ Simpson verdict. I was in a training class with the company I worked for at the time, in a conference room in another town. Someone slipped down the hall into another office during a coffee break to find out what the verdict was. (I've often wondered if that court reporter, the one who read the verdict, is ever annoyed that her "big moment in history" has been recorded with her stumbling on the pronunciation of "Orenthal".)
:: 9-11-01. I was in my car, driving to work, listening to NPR's Morning Edition. The event was still so fresh that Bob Edwards had not even broken into the show's regular features for the day at that time, although he had done so by the time I got to work. I remember someone speculating that LaGuardia's radar-guidance systems had gone horribly awry, and I remember my thoughts turning to the premiere episode of The Lone Gunmen, the spin-off television series from The X-Files. In that episode a government plot to smash a jetliner into the World Trade Center is averted. (Even though the show only lasted a single season, I wonder if that episode will ever see the light of day again.) Like the Challenger disaster, I saw no footage of this event until I got home later that day, as our office had no television. One of my coworkers went to a previously-arranged lunch meeting with a client at Applebees, and she came back in the afternoon to tell us how horrific it all was. In the morning, our work day began at 9:30 am, so when we all arrived at work the Twin Towers were both burning. We got a slightly later start than usual, with a moment of silence, and then we began our work (but kept the radio on). Just when the awful reality of what had happened was only beginning to set in...the radio announcer broke in with news of the strike on the Pentagon. The job I had at the time was a telesales job, and I recall the instructions coming from our managers: "Do not call accounts in New York City; for the foreseeable future we cannot ship via next-day air."
:: Columbia. I had just got our daughter out of bed and was turning on the TV so she could watch cartoons, and I noticed a news anchor on ABC, which struck me as odd since there generally is no news coverage going on at that time of morning. I channel-flipped to CBS and saw a talking head there as well, and thus knew that something was up; then I saw the CBS headline, "Contact lost with space shuttle".
Kevin wonders why we always seem to wonder why we remember the bad events but not the good ones; I do remember some good ones, but by and large he's right: it's the horrible events that sear into our consciousness.
:: Princess Diana's wedding. I actually remember watching this, because my mother has a long-standing fascination with the British Royal Family.
:: Princess Diana's death. I was working the night shift at the restaurant; it was close to midnight when my wife called and told me what had happened.
:: Oklahoma City. Another phone call from the wife, but during the day shift.
:: The release of the hostages in 1981. Fourth grade; we had the classroom television on so we could watch the inauguration of President Reagan. Cheers broke out as soon as the announcer broke in and announced the hostages' departure from Iran.
:: Three Mile Island. I don't recall the exact breaking-out of this event, but I recall clearly the incredible tension on the news each evening. We lived in West Virginia at the time, about a three-hour drive from TMI.
:: The fall of the Berlin Wall. I genuinely don't recall where I was, but it was a month or two into my freshman year in college. I seem to recall it was Music Theory class, but I could be wrong on that point.
:: John Lennon's murder. The news of this was on Good Morning America as I got ready for school.
:: Frank Sinatra's death. I couldn't sleep, so I got up and went to the living room to watch some TV for a bit. When I channel-flipped by CNN, I caught them in the middle of one of those "life retrospectives" of the sort that are only done upon the passing of a significant person.
Saturday, February 01, 2003
Twenty-two years ago or so, I sat amongst my fifth-grade classmates and watched, on television, the maiden voyage of a spacecraft.
This morning, I sat with my three-year-old daughter and watched that ship's final landing.
This was no automated spaceprobe, vanishing into the interplanetary vapors just as it's supposed to be entering Mars orbit; nor was it an old, outdated communications satellite no longer used by a company that no longer even exists being allowed to burn up in the upper atmosphere without so much as a notice for the general public. This was a spaceship, containing live astronauts -- people for whom the sense of wonder and adventure and exploration of space travel far, far outweighed the ever-distinct possibilities that they might not survive the trip. Today, even as the forces of war muster and as our earthly concerns consume our attention, we mourn seven people who flew with the spirit of Magellan and Erickson and Columbus and Armstrong and who, in doing so, joined the spirits of Grissom and Chaffee and Resnik and McAuliffe.
I pray that in days to come we do not seriously entertain the notion that to reach for the stars is too dangerous an enterprise. I pray that we do not allow three years of investigations and bureaucratic wranglings pass by before we once again take to the heavens. I pray that, faced with the lessons of this terrible event, we do not embrace the fears made all the more real by what happened today but rather take our inspiration from the seven souls lost.
We have to investigate what happened. We have to know why Columbia failed as it did. We have to know what we can do to make our future flights successful. But we must not decide not to undertake any more flights. I envision all the ships littering the floors of all the seas, and yet still we sail. I envision footprints upon the Sea of Tranquility, waiting to be joined; I envision Olympus Mons, waiting to be climbed. And I envision the Voyager craft, carrying evidence of our lonely little species out beyond the Sun's gravity and into interstellar space.
It will be hard, and our first launches in the future will be tempered anew by our freshened fears of the possible fates awaiting those astronauts. But we must keep going into space. As Alfred Bester might say, "The stars, our destination."
In Memoriam:
Rick Husband
William McCool
Michael Anderson
Kalpana Chawla
David Brown
Laurel Clark
Ilan Ramon
Roll on, Columbia, roll on.
This morning, I sat with my three-year-old daughter and watched that ship's final landing.
This was no automated spaceprobe, vanishing into the interplanetary vapors just as it's supposed to be entering Mars orbit; nor was it an old, outdated communications satellite no longer used by a company that no longer even exists being allowed to burn up in the upper atmosphere without so much as a notice for the general public. This was a spaceship, containing live astronauts -- people for whom the sense of wonder and adventure and exploration of space travel far, far outweighed the ever-distinct possibilities that they might not survive the trip. Today, even as the forces of war muster and as our earthly concerns consume our attention, we mourn seven people who flew with the spirit of Magellan and Erickson and Columbus and Armstrong and who, in doing so, joined the spirits of Grissom and Chaffee and Resnik and McAuliffe.
I pray that in days to come we do not seriously entertain the notion that to reach for the stars is too dangerous an enterprise. I pray that we do not allow three years of investigations and bureaucratic wranglings pass by before we once again take to the heavens. I pray that, faced with the lessons of this terrible event, we do not embrace the fears made all the more real by what happened today but rather take our inspiration from the seven souls lost.
We have to investigate what happened. We have to know why Columbia failed as it did. We have to know what we can do to make our future flights successful. But we must not decide not to undertake any more flights. I envision all the ships littering the floors of all the seas, and yet still we sail. I envision footprints upon the Sea of Tranquility, waiting to be joined; I envision Olympus Mons, waiting to be climbed. And I envision the Voyager craft, carrying evidence of our lonely little species out beyond the Sun's gravity and into interstellar space.
It will be hard, and our first launches in the future will be tempered anew by our freshened fears of the possible fates awaiting those astronauts. But we must keep going into space. As Alfred Bester might say, "The stars, our destination."
In Memoriam:
Rick Husband
William McCool
Michael Anderson
Kalpana Chawla
David Brown
Laurel Clark
Ilan Ramon
Roll on, Columbia, roll on.
Thursday, January 30, 2003
IMAGES OF THE WEEK
The Niagara Mohawk Building, Syracuse, NY.
One of the neat aspects of northeastern cities is the prevalence of art-deco architecture (the most famous example probably being New York City's Chrysler Building), especially in older cities like Buffalo and Syracuse that haven't seen much by way of significant additions to the skyline since the art-deco era. This building -- the headquarters of New York's Niagara Mohawk Power Company -- is one of the most striking examples of the art-deco style I've ever seen, especially so since the building's restoration a few years back. Having driven by the building several times, I can report that it does indeed gleam as much as the above photo indicates.
Here is a close-up of the building's tower, including the angelic figure near the building's crown:
(Say, can anyone out there recommend any good introductory books about architecture? I'm finding art-in-building increasingly interesting, and yet I know very little about it.)
The Niagara Mohawk Building, Syracuse, NY.
One of the neat aspects of northeastern cities is the prevalence of art-deco architecture (the most famous example probably being New York City's Chrysler Building), especially in older cities like Buffalo and Syracuse that haven't seen much by way of significant additions to the skyline since the art-deco era. This building -- the headquarters of New York's Niagara Mohawk Power Company -- is one of the most striking examples of the art-deco style I've ever seen, especially so since the building's restoration a few years back. Having driven by the building several times, I can report that it does indeed gleam as much as the above photo indicates.
Here is a close-up of the building's tower, including the angelic figure near the building's crown:
(Say, can anyone out there recommend any good introductory books about architecture? I'm finding art-in-building increasingly interesting, and yet I know very little about it.)
Wednesday, January 29, 2003
SciFi Weekly has an interesting interview this week with Boris Vallejo and Julie Bell, two of the more notable artists in SF and fantasy. Vellejo's work should be familiar to anyone with passing interest in SF, such as his cover painting for Vernor Vinge's novel A Fire Upon the Deep.
OK, I just finished watching this week's episode of Alias, and I quite enjoyed it -- more than when I've tried watching this show in the past. They used a tried-and-true formula: an in medias res opening, leaving the heroine in jeopardy, and then flashing back to tell how she got into that situation in the first place. One thing that rankled was the fact that this episode was clearly designed, at least in part, to bring viewers like me -- who haven't been watching faithfully -- at least somewhat up to speed. The execution of the miniature "infodumps" was a bit ham-handed, right down to the dreaded phrase, "As you know....", which I heard at least twice in the episode. "As you know...." speeches are incredibly tempting for a writer who is trying to get information to the reader or viewer that they need to understand the story. But I did enjoy the show's tight pacing, and it's always enjoyable watching Rutger Hauer play the taciturn bad-ass (which is a good thing, because that's virtually the only type of role he ever plays).
As far as TV espionage shows go, though, I think Alias has some heavy lifting ahead of it, if it wants to supersede 24 in my pecking order.
As far as TV espionage shows go, though, I think Alias has some heavy lifting ahead of it, if it wants to supersede 24 in my pecking order.
I won't do any kind of lengthy analysis of the State of the Union speech here -- there's plenty of that, all over the Web. I will note that President Bush continues to be a very effective orator. While he doesn't have the inate speechmaking ability that Bill Clinton and Ronald Reagan had, GWB has done the next best thing: he's assembled a team of speechwriters who are better at matching rhetoric to their man's speech patterns and syntactic qualities than any in recent memory. And Bush has one strength, the lack of which dogged Clinton in virtually all of his major speeches: he doesn't go on nearly as long. I'm one who remembers Clinton's speech at the 1988 Democratic National Convention, in which he droned on for something like three days. Brevity was never Clinton's strong point.
Via TheForce.Net: the occupational hazards facing an orchestral conductor when the composer of the works on the program happens to be in the concert hall. At least Maestro Slatkin was armed!
TF.N's story can be found here, and this event was also featured in a lengthy interview with Maestros Williams and Slatkin on NPR's Weekend Edition. Any mainstream mention of film music should be supported, and any attempt to bring film music to a larger audience can only be a good thing. This is an art form that is woefully underappreciated -- musical people tend to view film music as classical music's bastard stepchild, and film people tend to view film music as something not to be appreciated in any context other than with the film itself.
TF.N's story can be found here, and this event was also featured in a lengthy interview with Maestros Williams and Slatkin on NPR's Weekend Edition. Any mainstream mention of film music should be supported, and any attempt to bring film music to a larger audience can only be a good thing. This is an art form that is woefully underappreciated -- musical people tend to view film music as classical music's bastard stepchild, and film people tend to view film music as something not to be appreciated in any context other than with the film itself.
"Minas Morgul Oliphaunts 45, Isengard Uruk-hai 17."
I can only assume that this is the kind of thing that was being sought when this Google search brought someone here.
(And imagine: Byzantium's Shores is the only site anywhere on the Web listed under that particular search term! I'm the one and only!)
I can only assume that this is the kind of thing that was being sought when this Google search brought someone here.
(And imagine: Byzantium's Shores is the only site anywhere on the Web listed under that particular search term! I'm the one and only!)
Wine Poetics is a blog I happened upon, pretty much randomly, the other day. It's brand-spanking new -- less than a month old -- and it's about wine, poetry, and wine-related poetry. Nice to see blogs out there that aren't about conservative politics, liberal politics, libertarian politics, tech stuff, or -- worst of all -- long-winded screeds about football and Star Wars. (Ahem.)
Monday, January 27, 2003
Once again, SDB is confusing absence of evidence with evidence of absence. I'd love to be able to conclude from the lack of any kind of terrorist incident at the Super Bowl that we're winning, that we've crippled Al Qaeda, that the reason the game wasn't attacked is because they couldn't mount any such attack.
The problem, though, is this: rewind history to before 9-11-01, before we declared war on Al Qaeda in particular and on terrorism in general. Prior to that date, "proportional response" was the rule; we contented ourselves with missile strikes whenever we thought we had a good read on where Bin Laden happened to be. How many Super Bowls were struck by terrorist incidents before we crippled Al Qaeda? how many times was the World Series the site of an attack? how many times was the New Year's crowd in Times Square hit by a suicide bomber? How many times did any of these things happen, back when Al Qaeda was at the high point of its ability and strength?
Answer: ZERO.
The lack of any conclusive evidence for the current status of Al Qaeda, coupled with Al Qaeda's general modus operandi in the past (striking normal people, at work, on days which are fairly unremarkable in any other way), suggests to me that SDB's conclusion is frighteningly unfounded.
The problem, though, is this: rewind history to before 9-11-01, before we declared war on Al Qaeda in particular and on terrorism in general. Prior to that date, "proportional response" was the rule; we contented ourselves with missile strikes whenever we thought we had a good read on where Bin Laden happened to be. How many Super Bowls were struck by terrorist incidents before we crippled Al Qaeda? how many times was the World Series the site of an attack? how many times was the New Year's crowd in Times Square hit by a suicide bomber? How many times did any of these things happen, back when Al Qaeda was at the high point of its ability and strength?
Answer: ZERO.
The lack of any conclusive evidence for the current status of Al Qaeda, coupled with Al Qaeda's general modus operandi in the past (striking normal people, at work, on days which are fairly unremarkable in any other way), suggests to me that SDB's conclusion is frighteningly unfounded.
For some reason I haven't been able to get into Alias, despite the fact that its subject matter should be right up my alley. But, the episode that aired last night after the Super Bowl has been billed in numerous places as not just an outstanding episode but also a good "jumping-on" point for people who haven't been watching all along. I taped it, and will report later in the week.
I'm also looking forward to tonight's premiere of Miracles, which I'm hoping can fill some of the void that was left by the dismantling and ultimate cancellation of the brilliant, underappreciated Millennium. (This one's being taped as well.) I have high hopes for Miracles, because -- if it's done well -- dark stories about spiritual supernaturalism always captivate me. The problem, though, is the stories in this vein that are done poorly -- and it's very easy to screw them up.
I'm also looking forward to tonight's premiere of Miracles, which I'm hoping can fill some of the void that was left by the dismantling and ultimate cancellation of the brilliant, underappreciated Millennium. (This one's being taped as well.) I have high hopes for Miracles, because -- if it's done well -- dark stories about spiritual supernaturalism always captivate me. The problem, though, is the stories in this vein that are done poorly -- and it's very easy to screw them up.
So that's it, then: the season is over, and we are now officially waiting for next year. Soon there will be free-agent signings galore, and then the draft; then minicamps, followed by training camp. Before we know it, another regular season will have begun in the NFL, and everyone will be lining up to knock the Tampa Bay Buccaneers off their perch.
The Buccaneers.
It's a brave, new world, folks.
So, my final post about the 2002 NFL season is at hand. Commencing forthwith:
:: There's a generally-held belief that blowouts are inherently uninteresting and boring. In the case of the Super Bowl, where blow-outs have traditionally been the norm, it's reached such a point that the corollary belief is that the commercials are more interesting than the game itself. I don't agree. Blowouts are certainly interesting if it's your team doing the blowing out; as a Bills fan, I can confirm that my attention was riveted in that AFC Championship Game twelve years ago, when the Bills dismantled the Raiders 51-3. But blow-outs can be interesting on other grounds, as well. Yes, some are boring -- Super Bowl XXIX, for example, when the 49ers whalloped the Chargers 49-26 -- but some are definitely interesting. This game is an example. Just the fact that it was the Bucs who were blowing out the Raiders, and not the other way around, was interesting in itself. And the game wasn't quite the blow-out that the final score indicates; the Raiders had actually closed to within thirteen before the Bucs put it away and then appended the exclamation-point. But to the extent that anyone expected a blow-out, it was not expected to be the Raiders on the receiving end. On that basis -- the unexpected nature of this blow-out -- I found the game interesting.
:: All week I heard about the veteran leadership abounding on the Oakland sideline. So where was it? Why were Jerry Rice, Tim Brown, Bill Romanowski, Rich Gannon, et al not in their teammates' faces, getting them the #$&%!! back into the game? When they caught Rice on camera early in the third, sitting on the sideline moping, I knew the game was over, despite the flicker of life the Raiders showed a little later on.
:: I was very pleased to see the Super Bowl won decisively by a team that executed fundamentals so solidly, after a season where fundamentals were tossed aside by just about everyone. It's great to see that defense still wins championships; that running the ball and grinding the clock when one is leading in the second half is still excellent strategy (Dave Wannstedt, are you listening?); and that one does not need a stellar passing game to win a Super Bowl.
:: Joe Theissman is still an idiot. In his pregame pick, he announced that the Raiders would win. OK, fine -- a lot of people picked them. But he went on to say why: "The Raiders were, week in and week out, the best team in the NFL this season." Was Joe watching the same NFL season that I was? Was he watching when the Raiders went on a four-game losing streak? Was he watching when, "week in and week out", there was no clearly dominant team in the league? Hell, the Raiders didn't even have the better regular-season record of this year's two Super Bowl teams. I wonder if Theissman's brain was affected when his leg was broken all those years ago.
:: Commercials: I liked three of them. There was the FedEx Castaway spoof, the "Osbournes" Pepsi Twist ad, and the Bud Light ad with the guy who decided to get a third arm. That's about it. (Oh, and a new SportsCenter ad where Joe Montana is a chef, and he loses his Super Bowl ring in the food, to have Stuart Scott find it.)
:: Halftime: What on earth was Shania Twain wearing?! Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh. If this is what country music is about these days, then Patsy Cline must be gyrating in her burial place.
:: Pregame: I'm probably going to hell for saying this, but I'm finally tired of "God Bless America". I understood why the song shot to the forefront of our consciousness after 9-11-01, but now apparently we're to hear it at every sporting event -- even before the actual National Anthem. Still, Celine Dion sang it well. This year featured one of the better "Star Spangled Banner"'s in recent memory; the Dixie Chicks did a simple rendition, solemn and with lovely vocal harmony. I was baffled that they did away with player introductions; maybe everyone was awestruck by the Patriots' "Introduce us as a team" gimick from last year. It was nice, though, that they did a little season-recap for each team, showing their respective roads to the Super Bowl.
:: Postgame: since when do they do music in the postgame? What's up with that? The game ends, and then it's: "Congrats, Bucs. We'll give you the Vince Lombardi Trophy just as soon as we're all done listening to Bon Jovi!" And I was glad to see that Chris Berman still pulls out the orange necktie for special Buccaneer occasions.
And, finally, a couple of thoughts about the NFL itself.
:: While I can somewhat agree with the "purists" with regards to the current structure for overtime games, I have to conclude that a system whereby a team can win without the other team even touching the ball needs to be tweaked. My thinking is this: first of all, keep the coin toss, but don't kick it off -- just give the team winning the toss the ball, at the opposing twenty yard line. If they're going to march down the field and score, make them march down the field. Second, if they do score, I think the other team should then get one possession in which they can either tie or win, depending on what the first team to score did. However, after both teams have each had a possession, then go right back to sudden death. I think that overtime is "sudden death" because of football's status as the most physical of the major sports; you don't want these guys out there for an extra hour or two beating on each other.
So, just to take a hypothetical example: if the Bills and Jets play to a tie in regulation, a coin is tossed. The Jets call it and win, and they get the ball first. Then, suppose they start at the 20 and drive downfield for a field-goal. Then, the Bills get a possession -- also starting at the twenty. They, too, drive for a field goal. Now the Jets would get another possession, and the game would progress as before until the next team scores. Then, game over. This would not cheat the Bills at all, because they would have had the opportunity to score a touchdown on their OT possession, and thus win the game. Of course, this system would create a few weird instances: in my above example, if the Jets' QB throws an interception on his first snap in OT, and that interception is run in for a touchdown, then the game's over -- because both teams will have had possession once, and the Bills would have a lead.
So: the first team to take the lead after both teams have possessed the ball, should win in OT.
:: Finally, a word about parity. I read a commentary a few weeks ago (I don't recall the writer or location, unfortunately) that complained about parity because it's meant the end of dynasties in the NFL, and thus there will presumably be less of a sense of history forged nowadays. I don't agree. First of all, dynasties in themselves are pretty rare. There really was no "Team of the 1990s" (I don't consider the Cowboys thus, because they won their three championships in four years early in the decade and were lackluster after that), so the last true dynasty was the 49ers of the 1980s. But their three championships in the 1980s were spread out, so I can't believe anyone thought they were a dynasty when they won their first. Conversely, many were convinced that the 1985 Bears were the start of a dynasty, but it never came to pass. So, I don't think we can really predict whether or not there will be dynasties.
However, it seems at least partly true that the old style of dynasty may be a thing of the past: a team putting together a core of players and keeping that core together for a long period of time. Future dynasties, thus, may not be the result of accretion of great talent on a single team, but rather by great front-office personnel and coaches on a team. Scouts and coaches are going to be more important in the future, and whereas we very well may not see a Pittsburgh Steelers of the 1970s again, I also think we're unlikely to see a situation where a Chuck Knoll or a Don Shula or a Tom Landry can coach a colossus but then spend ten years coaching mediocre teams because the colossus eventually got dismantled. John Gruden might not win another Super Bowl with this same collection of Buccaneers, but I'd be shocked if his coaching career ended sometime in the future without another title under his belt. Selection of personnel is going to get more important, and this is the real reason why the Bengals and Cardinals are such train-wrecks: not only do they lack talent, but they also lack the proper management team to bring in talent in an era when talent can be acquired much more easily and not nearly as capriciously as in the day when there was the draft and little else.
I like parity. I like the fact that a team can go from being a doormat to a Super Bowl champion quickly. I like the fact that of the 19 teams that posted records of .500 or better in 2002, 12 posted losing records in either 2000 or 2001. I like the fact that "Wait 'till next year" can actually have some meaning now, as opposed to before when it meant "Wait until we have an awesome draft, start developing those kids, and then have another awesome draft the year after, and the same thing over four years until we're a great team".
The way teams acquire players has changed, but the game is still the same. It's still line-'em-up, run and throw, stop the other guy, for sixty minutes each Sunday. So we've had five new Super Bowl Champions out of the last six Super Bowls. So five of those champions were teams that to that point in their franchise history had never won a Super Bowl before. So the best team in the NFL can actually change from year to year much more fluidly than before. Football is still football, the Super Bowl is still the Super Bowl, and the best team in the NFL was still crowned yesterday.
The Buccaneers are the Champions, and long live the Champions. At least until September.
The Buccaneers.
It's a brave, new world, folks.
So, my final post about the 2002 NFL season is at hand. Commencing forthwith:
:: There's a generally-held belief that blowouts are inherently uninteresting and boring. In the case of the Super Bowl, where blow-outs have traditionally been the norm, it's reached such a point that the corollary belief is that the commercials are more interesting than the game itself. I don't agree. Blowouts are certainly interesting if it's your team doing the blowing out; as a Bills fan, I can confirm that my attention was riveted in that AFC Championship Game twelve years ago, when the Bills dismantled the Raiders 51-3. But blow-outs can be interesting on other grounds, as well. Yes, some are boring -- Super Bowl XXIX, for example, when the 49ers whalloped the Chargers 49-26 -- but some are definitely interesting. This game is an example. Just the fact that it was the Bucs who were blowing out the Raiders, and not the other way around, was interesting in itself. And the game wasn't quite the blow-out that the final score indicates; the Raiders had actually closed to within thirteen before the Bucs put it away and then appended the exclamation-point. But to the extent that anyone expected a blow-out, it was not expected to be the Raiders on the receiving end. On that basis -- the unexpected nature of this blow-out -- I found the game interesting.
:: All week I heard about the veteran leadership abounding on the Oakland sideline. So where was it? Why were Jerry Rice, Tim Brown, Bill Romanowski, Rich Gannon, et al not in their teammates' faces, getting them the #$&%!! back into the game? When they caught Rice on camera early in the third, sitting on the sideline moping, I knew the game was over, despite the flicker of life the Raiders showed a little later on.
:: I was very pleased to see the Super Bowl won decisively by a team that executed fundamentals so solidly, after a season where fundamentals were tossed aside by just about everyone. It's great to see that defense still wins championships; that running the ball and grinding the clock when one is leading in the second half is still excellent strategy (Dave Wannstedt, are you listening?); and that one does not need a stellar passing game to win a Super Bowl.
:: Joe Theissman is still an idiot. In his pregame pick, he announced that the Raiders would win. OK, fine -- a lot of people picked them. But he went on to say why: "The Raiders were, week in and week out, the best team in the NFL this season." Was Joe watching the same NFL season that I was? Was he watching when the Raiders went on a four-game losing streak? Was he watching when, "week in and week out", there was no clearly dominant team in the league? Hell, the Raiders didn't even have the better regular-season record of this year's two Super Bowl teams. I wonder if Theissman's brain was affected when his leg was broken all those years ago.
:: Commercials: I liked three of them. There was the FedEx Castaway spoof, the "Osbournes" Pepsi Twist ad, and the Bud Light ad with the guy who decided to get a third arm. That's about it. (Oh, and a new SportsCenter ad where Joe Montana is a chef, and he loses his Super Bowl ring in the food, to have Stuart Scott find it.)
:: Halftime: What on earth was Shania Twain wearing?! Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh. If this is what country music is about these days, then Patsy Cline must be gyrating in her burial place.
:: Pregame: I'm probably going to hell for saying this, but I'm finally tired of "God Bless America". I understood why the song shot to the forefront of our consciousness after 9-11-01, but now apparently we're to hear it at every sporting event -- even before the actual National Anthem. Still, Celine Dion sang it well. This year featured one of the better "Star Spangled Banner"'s in recent memory; the Dixie Chicks did a simple rendition, solemn and with lovely vocal harmony. I was baffled that they did away with player introductions; maybe everyone was awestruck by the Patriots' "Introduce us as a team" gimick from last year. It was nice, though, that they did a little season-recap for each team, showing their respective roads to the Super Bowl.
:: Postgame: since when do they do music in the postgame? What's up with that? The game ends, and then it's: "Congrats, Bucs. We'll give you the Vince Lombardi Trophy just as soon as we're all done listening to Bon Jovi!" And I was glad to see that Chris Berman still pulls out the orange necktie for special Buccaneer occasions.
And, finally, a couple of thoughts about the NFL itself.
:: While I can somewhat agree with the "purists" with regards to the current structure for overtime games, I have to conclude that a system whereby a team can win without the other team even touching the ball needs to be tweaked. My thinking is this: first of all, keep the coin toss, but don't kick it off -- just give the team winning the toss the ball, at the opposing twenty yard line. If they're going to march down the field and score, make them march down the field. Second, if they do score, I think the other team should then get one possession in which they can either tie or win, depending on what the first team to score did. However, after both teams have each had a possession, then go right back to sudden death. I think that overtime is "sudden death" because of football's status as the most physical of the major sports; you don't want these guys out there for an extra hour or two beating on each other.
So, just to take a hypothetical example: if the Bills and Jets play to a tie in regulation, a coin is tossed. The Jets call it and win, and they get the ball first. Then, suppose they start at the 20 and drive downfield for a field-goal. Then, the Bills get a possession -- also starting at the twenty. They, too, drive for a field goal. Now the Jets would get another possession, and the game would progress as before until the next team scores. Then, game over. This would not cheat the Bills at all, because they would have had the opportunity to score a touchdown on their OT possession, and thus win the game. Of course, this system would create a few weird instances: in my above example, if the Jets' QB throws an interception on his first snap in OT, and that interception is run in for a touchdown, then the game's over -- because both teams will have had possession once, and the Bills would have a lead.
So: the first team to take the lead after both teams have possessed the ball, should win in OT.
:: Finally, a word about parity. I read a commentary a few weeks ago (I don't recall the writer or location, unfortunately) that complained about parity because it's meant the end of dynasties in the NFL, and thus there will presumably be less of a sense of history forged nowadays. I don't agree. First of all, dynasties in themselves are pretty rare. There really was no "Team of the 1990s" (I don't consider the Cowboys thus, because they won their three championships in four years early in the decade and were lackluster after that), so the last true dynasty was the 49ers of the 1980s. But their three championships in the 1980s were spread out, so I can't believe anyone thought they were a dynasty when they won their first. Conversely, many were convinced that the 1985 Bears were the start of a dynasty, but it never came to pass. So, I don't think we can really predict whether or not there will be dynasties.
However, it seems at least partly true that the old style of dynasty may be a thing of the past: a team putting together a core of players and keeping that core together for a long period of time. Future dynasties, thus, may not be the result of accretion of great talent on a single team, but rather by great front-office personnel and coaches on a team. Scouts and coaches are going to be more important in the future, and whereas we very well may not see a Pittsburgh Steelers of the 1970s again, I also think we're unlikely to see a situation where a Chuck Knoll or a Don Shula or a Tom Landry can coach a colossus but then spend ten years coaching mediocre teams because the colossus eventually got dismantled. John Gruden might not win another Super Bowl with this same collection of Buccaneers, but I'd be shocked if his coaching career ended sometime in the future without another title under his belt. Selection of personnel is going to get more important, and this is the real reason why the Bengals and Cardinals are such train-wrecks: not only do they lack talent, but they also lack the proper management team to bring in talent in an era when talent can be acquired much more easily and not nearly as capriciously as in the day when there was the draft and little else.
I like parity. I like the fact that a team can go from being a doormat to a Super Bowl champion quickly. I like the fact that of the 19 teams that posted records of .500 or better in 2002, 12 posted losing records in either 2000 or 2001. I like the fact that "Wait 'till next year" can actually have some meaning now, as opposed to before when it meant "Wait until we have an awesome draft, start developing those kids, and then have another awesome draft the year after, and the same thing over four years until we're a great team".
The way teams acquire players has changed, but the game is still the same. It's still line-'em-up, run and throw, stop the other guy, for sixty minutes each Sunday. So we've had five new Super Bowl Champions out of the last six Super Bowls. So five of those champions were teams that to that point in their franchise history had never won a Super Bowl before. So the best team in the NFL can actually change from year to year much more fluidly than before. Football is still football, the Super Bowl is still the Super Bowl, and the best team in the NFL was still crowned yesterday.
The Buccaneers are the Champions, and long live the Champions. At least until September.
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