Bleacher Report - Articles by Geoff Zochodne

Are My Hogs in the House?: A Tribute To the Miami Dolphins' O-Line

Geoff Zochodne — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 01:50:32 -0500

Michael Oher may have a fancy movie starring the timeless Sandra Bullock (who's carving out her own cougar niche), but the real story is the Miami Dolphins' offensive line.

Against the Carolina Panthers, the Fins had more guys going down than a Jacques Cousteau production and still came out smelling like roses. Good O-Line play has been one of the more consistent facets of Miami's season.

The Dolphins went out and spent some serious dollars on their line in the offseason, and even though there's been some injuries recently, it's been money well spent.

Taking my cues from the so-called "Porkquistador" that is Peter King, I took him up on his plug for the web site Pro Football Focus . On said site, the folks in charge take time out of their busy day to rank all players for every position.

And as I'm an amateur rankologist (a phrase so lacking in cleverness that it took a man of my IQ to coin it), I took it upon myself to check out Miami's big men.

The Fins boast two offensive linemen in the top five of Pro Football Focus' rankings. Vernon Carey is ranked at No.3 at tackle, and Jake Long isn't too far behind at No. 12. Considering the Fins used two first round draft picks on their tackles, it's good to see it's been worth it (according to PFF anyways). First round picks panning out? Get outta town!

Jake Grove (who got banged up in Thursday's game) is listed as the No. 3 center as well. It's only in the guard spot that Miami falls short, as Justin Smiley and Donald Thomas (Miami's projected starters) are the 39 and 42 ranked guards.

Fortunately, the real proof is in the pudding, delicious, nutritious, and Bill Cosby-endorsed, pudding.

Despite Ronnie Brown's absence, Miami will need to continue getting production from their run game; and that's spearheaded by the offensive line. Not counting Thursday's brouhaha against the Panthers (where Ricky Williams still rushed for 119 yards and three touchdowns) the Fins are averaging 156.2 yards a game on the ground (fourth in the NFL).

The run game is in good hands. Tony Sparano is an offensive line guy, and his guys on the offensive line are clearly flourishing in Tony Sparano's offense.

A shortcoming you could point to is the Fins pass protection. It hasn't been stellar, as Miami has allowed 23 sacks, making them 25th in the NFL in protecting the passer. The silver lining is that they've only allowed 35 hits on their quarterback total, which means that their pivots are usually being hit for sacks, and not constantly harangued by opponents.

Another positive is that against the Panthers the Fins allowed zero sacks, despite being in a game where they were shuffling linemen in and out all night. Even though they were facing the ghost of Julius Peppers, it's still something.

It's no secret that Miami cherishes protecting the football and controlling the clock. As a matter of fact, I'm sure that Tony Sparano has it tattooed on his body like that guy from Prison Break. With this offensive line it's been a dream fulfilled. They're good, is probably what you can glean from this spiel.

The most satisfying part is that teams like to think of Miami as a finesse squad. Using the Wildcat is still viewed as a soft way to get yards.

Um, nah.

Actually, it's hard-nosed football that has been giving opponents trouble all year. It's like throwing a dress on Smokin' Joe Frazier (IT'S A METAPHOR, DON'T HURT ME JOE). He may look soft, but he'll still sock you in the mouth and keep coming forward.

That's Miami, Smokin' Joe in a dress. For all the frills they may present, when you cut through the wrinkles they're a steamroller with half a mind to rape and pillage every city they're in.

Let the word go forth: These cross-dressers are not to be toyed with.

There's probably a better word I could put forth but I'm not much for recanting. This season has been a war from Day One, but the Fins have the right men in the trenches.

For more reasons I need to catch a beating, go check out The Chirp Show . It's where jerks go to hide behind a transparent veil of jerkdom.

The Tragically Hip, Toronto Raptors, and a Glimmer Of Hope

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 00:24:29 -0500

In the immortal words of The Tragically Hip, "It can't be Nashville every night."

Confusing right?

I mean, I'm writing about the Toronto Raptors, there's no team in Nashville, and The Tragically Hip once wrote a song about a polar bear named Gus. Not exactly the strongest of source material.

Well for the Raps last night, they finally caught a break. For once it wasn't Nashville.

Toronto has made a point of shutting down the key, protecting the lane, and forcing teams to shoot on them. And opponents have shot. Oh sweet lord, they have shot.

The Raps have allowed 45 percent three-point shooting from their opponents this season (last in the league), and 48 percent from elsewhere on the floor (24th).

They've been protecting the interior of the house, but an arsonist Santa Claus has been setting fire to their roof. And no amount of milk (or cookies for that matter) has been able to put it out.

Until they played Chicago. And the break finally came; da Bulls only shot 25 percent from behind the arc (39 percent overall) and the Raps' defensive philosophy finally began to shine through.

And it was about time.

The Bulls were averaging 89 points a game this season. In the first half they slapped up 60 points and it looked like the Raps were in for another shootout. Not so.

In the second half the shots stopped falling for Chicago, and a locked house restricted them to a paltry 29 points in the second half (only 11 in the fourth quarter). And how many points did they finish with? 89 points.

It finally wasn't Nashville.

Now it's time to keep the whole state of Tennessee away from Toronto the rest of the season (sorry Grizzlies).

My biggest beef with Toronto has been their passive approach on defense. Toronto doesn't turn the ball over a lot, but they don't force a whole lot of turnovers either.

On the season the Raps are averaging 11.7 turnovers a game (last night excluded, where they had 14), second best in the league, but opponents are only being forced to give up the ball 11.4 times (13 against Chicago), making them worst in the league at forcing turnovers.

For Toronto, the press means that Reggie Evans ironed his shirt before taking his spot on the bench. Opposing teams have gone undisturbed the length of the court and had their way with Toronto with the long ball.

Hopefully that's over with.

The house finally passed inspection last night. Now it's time to start spreading outwards, to get on teams, and start forcing them to take worse shots.

It's fantastic that the Raps guard the ball like a jealous boyfriend, but it's time to start making some swipes. Like an unfaithful, yet still jealous boyfriend. Now that's a simile applicable on and off the court.

Because good teams will make big shots, it's unavoidable. The Bulls were squabbling the entire fourth quarter to sink a basket. It was like someone was messing with the rims. And if someone was, well, God bless you sir.

But the Raps finally received some much needed rebounding assistance. Andrea Bargnani may never be a great rebounder (he only had six last night), but he's serviceable. Still, Chris Bosh had his usual double-double (28 points, 11 rebounds) and Hedo Turkoglu finally played up to his 6'10'' frame and snagged eight boards.

The most pleasant surprise was DeMar DeRozan's near double-double of nine points and nine boards. The rook got into the mix down low and made things difficult for the Bulls' bigs who didn't account for him.

These are things that need to continue for the Raps to win more games.

Because (and this is the last time, I swear) I'm tired of it being Nashville every night.

For more sports ramblings, gamblings, and lack of mentions about Gary Shandlings (what a rhyme!), go to The Chirp Show . I'm sorry for all you Shandling fans though.

The Phinal Word: How the Miami Dolphins Are Yearning To Break Free

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 23:58:19 -0500

You can plot.

You can scheme.

You can plan.

You can mastermind.

You can prepare.

But if you don't have the firepower, the big boys of the NFL are going to beat you. And on Sunday, the Miami Dolphins got beat because they brought a knife to a gunfight (and then forgot the knife in the car).

It all comes back to the big play.

Miami can't create them.

They can run the football and they can control the clock. But when it comes time to make a big play, when things aren't going exactly to plan, that the Fins are left wanting.

A perfect example was Sunday. While Miami had to claw their way down the field, all New England had to do was put it within here and the moon of Randy Moss.

Every Miami drive feels like brain surgery. Smashmouth football, but it's so meticulous that it inhibits its own explosiveness. And the difference between 3-5 and 5-3 for Miami is explosiveness.

(And two wins.)

Against New England the Fins averaged 4.3 yards running the football and 5.2 yards passing the football. The Patriots were averaging 4.5 yards a rush and 8.3 yards a pass. Not only did they beat Miami at their own specialty, but they coupled it with a dangerous pass game.

This isn't the first instance of Miami being out-slashed by opponents. On the season opponents are averaging 8.3 yards a pass on the Fins, while Miami averages only 5.9 yards.

The only teams doing worse than Miami? Kansas City, St. Louis, Tennessee, Tampa Bay, Oakland, and Cleveland. Not exactly elite company. Or decent company. Or even someone you'd want to be around for longer than five minutes.

It's a question of philosophy and personnel. The teams the Dolphins have lost to possess big play guys.

Atlanta: Matt Ryan is extremely capable of making a mess of opposing defenses. Michael Turner, Roddy White, and Tony Gonzalez are no slouches either.

Indianapolis: Peyton Manning may look nice, but he's actually the most dangerous man on the field at anytime. He's an assassin with a wussy haircut.

New Orleans: Oh, they're only the most explosive offense in the league. Stopping Drew Brees & Co. is like trying to stop the world from turning, only with less pillow talk and that soap opera filter that goes over cameras.

San Diego: Philip Rivers and Vincent Jackson aren't even aware there's routes you can run shorter than 15 yards.

New England: Tom Brady, Randy Moss, and Wes Welker keep defensive coordinators up at night. Usually with their play, but sometimes with prank phone calls.

Notice that every single one of these teams has a player, or players, capable of taking over a game? They may not have all had huge games against Miami, but the Fins were forced to respect them, something that hasn't been reciprocated. Opposing teams can rip off huge chunks of yardage in a single play, but Miami has to execute on several plays to achieve the same result.

Which isn't to say that Miami is completely bereft of talent. Ronnie Brown and Ricky Williams are workhorses, but teams are beginning to zero in on the fact that Miami couldn't stretch the field with...a...field-stretching machine? Let's avoid specific examples.

It's why Ronnie Brown can throw the ball, because secondaries are jumping all over the run the second Brown touches the ball. Joey Haynos looked like he came out of the stands to catch his touchdown in the third on Sunday. Defenses are telling Miami to beat them deep, if they can.

(They haven't.)

The teams Miami have beaten are Buffalo and the New York Jets. Buffalo is atrocious throwing the football, and Mark Sanchez has been inconsistent as a rookie quarterback in the Big Apple. Miami has been able to win these games by dragging their opponents down to their level.

Now I've touched on this subject before, but it's becoming more and more apparent that Miami just haven't had the horses to survive their schedule thus far. They've come up with ways of leveling the playing field (by hogging the football like the kid who repeated grades did on the playground), but opponents have just been a little too talented for Miami.

The Fins have given up nine plays of 40 yards or more, the third-most in the NFL. They've also given up 30 plays of 20 yards or more, tied for the second-most in the league.

And on offense Miami is 28th in the league with only 14 plays of 20 yards or longer. They just can't respond to big plays, and it's been their undoing.

But you play the cards you're dealt. And Miami has arguably played a mean game of canasta. If they want to win football games though, they're going to have to find someone who can up the ante for them.

It could and should be Ted Ginn Jr. He's the man with the wheels, but has been struggling to catch anything but blame from the fans.

Returning kickoffs is one way of contributing (and Ginn has reinvented himself within the span of two weeks as a man to be feared when you kick deep), but what would be even nicer is if Ginn could lend Chad Henne a hand. Literally. USE YOUR HANDS TO CATCH THE BALL TED.

Ahem.

Peyton has Wayne.

Brady has Moss.

Brees has Colston.

Rivers has Jackson.

Henne needs Ginn. Not just for a safety valve, but as someone who can give Miami's offense a chance to get big yards quickly. Ginn had a chance to make a huge catch for Miami late in the fourth quarter, but the guy who can't catch, didn't catch it. He has the raw physical tools, but he has yet to become the big time receiver he was drafted to be.

And Miami needs to start finding ways to have teams respect their ability to make the big play. Bringing in Pat White to run the option means that they're still operating in the same section of the field until they actually throw out of it.

They need to find out how to stretch teams so they can re-establish their run game (the Fins averaged 177 yards on the ground their first five games, and only 107 in their last three; their total yardage has also dipped from an average of 340 to 257 yards). Because Miami will need to run the ball to minimize the chance of being burnt by the big play; by keeping opposing offenses off the field.

And because the weird thing about having the league's toughest schedule is that it doesn't get much easier.

Check out The Chirp Show , it's better for you than proper diet and exercise. Which are way overrated by the way. My heart hurts.

Toronto Raptors: Less Is More For CB4

Geoff Zochodne — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 13:29:44 -0500

Last night in New Orleans, the Toronto Raptors displayed a depth that's been missing from the team for years.

It was refreshing to watch as the Raps slowly ground the Hornets into dust, and then as they definitively blew them away in the second half.

And how did they do it?

Because these Raptors are deep.

Not write-you-a-poem-because-they're-so-sensitive-deep, but the kind of deep where Chris Bosh spending 45 minutes hucking J's no longer constitutes their offense.

(Although I do love poetry.)

Bosh played only 30 minutes last night, but was more effective than he's been all season. Is there some kind of correlation between rest and better play? If your answer was anything but, "Duh" I've failed communicating my point.

Let's look at CB4's season:

@New Orleans: 30 minutes, 9-9 FG, 27 points, 7 rebounds

vs. Detroit: 35 minutes, 5-10 FG, 25 points, 8 rebounds

vs. Orlando: 40 minutes, 10-20 FG, 35 points, 16 rebounds

@ Memphis: 38 minutes, 13-25 FG, 37 points, 12 rebounds

vs. Cleveland: 40 minutes, 6-17 FG, 21 points, 16 rebounds

Now this is nitpicking, because Bosh is having a whale of a season. He's progressed in every conceivable statistical category (except his free throw percentage), but when he has to take 20 shots or more the Raps are 0-2, when he's gone under that Toronto is 3-0.

That's because when Bosh is given help he's more effective than when he's a one-man wolfpack scouring the court for points, hookers, and cocaine.

Thankfully, the Rock of the ACC has been getting support.

The Raptors aren't excessively deep, but they've been getting production from the guys they are paying to do so. Their starting five (Calderon-DeRozan-Turkoglu-Bosh-Bargnani) is an offensive juggernaut.

The five are averaging 1.15 points per possession. By comparison, the starting five of the Boston Celtics are averaging 1.11 points per possession. And even defensively the Raps can compare, their five holds opponents to 0.98 points a possession, contrasted to the Celts 0.92.

By re-upping with Bargnani and springing for Hedo Turkoglu, the Raps have increased Bosh's lethality tenfold.

The other two most effective lineups for the Raps are Jack-Calderon-Big Turk-Bosh-Bargnani (1.4 points per poss.) and Jack-Wright-Turk-Bosh-Bargnani (1.33 points per poss.)

The common denominator in these successes is Bosh, Bargnani, and Turkoglu. The three offer matchup problems equivalent to how the Orlando Magic rolled last season (except the presence of Dwight Howard is difficult to replicate).

But they can stretch teams wide with Bargnani, Turk, and Bosh all being able to shoot from range. The three can also drive and Bosh and Bargnani have begun to expand on their post games. Slowly, the Raps are evolving into a kick and shoot team that can give teams like New Orleans fits trying to defend them.

The most important thing is that when Bosh has his burden lessened, Toronto is a team to be respected. Thanks to the continuing development of Bargnani and the innovating play of Turkoglu, Toronto is able to attack from multiple angles.

And by adding playmakers Bosh can finally rest on occasion without the wheels coming off the offense (a five of Jack-Wright-Belinelli-Johnson-Bargnani is averaging 1.33 points per poss.). For a guy who traditionally gets banged up as the season goes along, relieving pressure on him to produce is a blow for keeping Bosh healthy.

But like everything that's been written thus far, it's been five games and all conclusions have to be taken with a grain of salt.

That doesn't mean fans can't get excited though.

For more sports talk (with swears!) go to The Chirp Show . It's where sports go to be belittled, respected, and misunderstood.

Miami Dolphins: The Number 34

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 22:00:32 -0500

Have you ever seen that one Jim Carrey movie?

It wasn't the one where he solves pet crimes, or the one where he finds a mask, or even the one where him and Jeff Daniels prove that IQ is just a state of mind.

Huh?

So I guess I answered my own question then, didn't I?

Well it was The Number 23 . And no, I didn't see it either. But thanks to the wonders of Google and Wikipedia I've ascertained that it's about a man who becomes obsessed with a number that's not 17 and is inescapably 23.

The number comes to dominate the man's life until something happens and then something else happens and the credits roll. But the main point is that he notices a trend in his life that revolves around 23.

Enter the Miami Dolphins.

Now, they're not obsessed with 23. That would be stupid and would make no sense to write about.

They're actually obsessed with the number 34 , which is a completely more interesting number (because it's 11 more!).

For Miami, this season has been hard to define. A few games got away, but their indestructible schedule has started to crack. They now enter a crucial stretch of the season that could make or break them.

And it all comes back to 34.

Let's get to it. It's going to be SMMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOKKKKKKKKIIIIIIN'.

Oops, wrong movie.

3-4

We'll keep it simple first, and the easiest place to start is with the Dolphins sub-par record. Fortunately, Miami has yet to be completely dominated by any team, and has found themselves in every game they've played.

But being a team with a narrow margin of error means that some of those winnable losses could come back to haunt Miami. And Halloween's over, so that's some seriously spooky stuff.

3-4...again

Those crazy number are back again, this time as part of Miami's 3-4 defense. The Fins are using the 3-4 to play especially stingy against the run, keeping opponents to 3 .6 yards per carry, and only 92.4 yards a game (sixth in the NFL).

Miami has also given new life to pass rushers like Jason Taylor, Randy Starks, Cameron Wake, and Joey Porter by using the 3-4. Which is why Miami is also sixth in the league with 19 sacks.

It's this toughness up front that has kept Miami in games and forced teams to seek other ways to beat them. Which they've done...but that's for another day. So let's just go to...

34 years old

That's the age of the Duchess of York, Jason "Fergie" Ferguson. The lynch pin of Miami's defense has managed to keep himself healthy and man the nose tackle spot for the Dolphins.

Keeping Ferguson healthy is something that is tantamount to Miami's continued success against the run. His name isn't called every play, but that doesn't ease the burden of NFL offensive linemen who have to move the bulky Ferguson.

If you had to go to work everyday with a 320 pound man breathing in your face would you feel comfortable?

Businessman one: Jenkins, I want those TPS reports on my desk by Monday.

Businessman two: Sure thing, but could you ask this large, scary, man to get off my desk first.

B1: You ask him.

B2: What does TPS stand for anyway? (Intimidating man on desk growls) OH GOD HE'S ANGRY.

Erricke Lynne Williams Jr. is experiencing yet another renaissance, while sporting the number 34 for Miami. For a guy who's been left for dead so many times throughout his career, Williams is having a lively season.

Ricky has rushed for 4 23 yards thus far in the season, with a 5.3 yards per carry average. He's also got himself five touchdowns and has asserted himself as one of the key cogs of Miami's offense. Without Williams, Miami is limited, but with him they're proving that the NFL is now a two-back league.

For Miami to succeed in the remainder of the season, they need to see continued production from number 34. There's no reason to suspect they won't get it either-...must resist...temptation...to make...drug joke...ARRGHHHHHHHHHH.

BECAUSE THE RANDOM DRUG TESTS ARE OVER!

Oy.

Three Interceptions, Four Touchdowns

Those are quarterback Chad Henne's numbers after five games, four of them started by Chad No. 2. He's proven to be adept at managing a game for the Fins, but he is isn't blessing anyone's fantasy team with a cornucopia of points.

As teams start moving more and more defenders into the box, the onus is on Henne to keep them honest. It has been refreshing to see that Miami isn't up an excrement-filled body of water without Chad Pennington though, and Henne still has room to improve.

34.9

The yards Ted Ginn Jr. averages a kick return. After landing squarely in Tony Sparano's dog house, Junior exploded through the ceiling and raced out to two touchdowns against the New York Jets last Sunday.

Now Ginn hasn't displayed the surest of hands receiving, but his kick returns are giving Miami an element of danger that hasn't been seen since Joey Porter started doing his deep breathing exercises. It's just another thing opponents are now forced to devote more focus to in stopping the Fins.

Ted Ginn Jr.: Putting the special back in special teams since November 1, 2009.

Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

Tony Sparano

Now he's not a number, but as of this year he is the third head coach in four years for Miami. Sparano is now 14-9 as head coach of the Fins, and despite some questionable decisions (going for two while up by 11?) he's made Miami a team to be respected in the NFL.

After the collective horrible tastes that Nick Saban and Cam Cameron left in Fins fans mouths, Sparano is the Listerine for the Miami faithful. He's proved that he coaches schemes to fit his personnel, and not vice versa.

Sparano is also one of the most fun coaches to watch in the NFL. If it's not witnessing the Wildcat, it's spotting him fist pumping like a drunk frat boy after sinking the last beer pong cup. It's good to see that this is a coach that lives and dies by his team, and so far it's been fun and enjoyable having him as coach.

3-4...last time I swear

Last season Miami was 3-4 at this point of the year as well. They then proceeded to own the second half of the season and make the playoffs.

The schedule may be tougher, but a precedent has been set. High expectations are nothing to fear, they're to hold franchises accountable for keeping their fanbase happy. And making another big run would bring so much joy to these fans.

1975

34 years ago the Miami Dolphins went 10-4 under coach Don Shula, WITH NO ONE ON THE TEAM WEARING 34. Fate or coincidence?

1975 was the season that saw Miami without Larry Csonka for the first time in six seasons, and the Fins failed to make the playoffs. Well, Csonka has yet to suit up for Miami this season, mostly because everyone is still afraid of him. But he was one hell of an American Gladiators announcer.

Also, 34 years ago this week the Miami Dolphins beat the New York Jets. Will the date empower Miami this week against the New England Patriots? Or is that one parallel too far to draw?

I'll end my 34 fetishism here. Mostly because I'm out of tinfoil to keep the satellites from spying on me.

Now I'm no Jim Carrey (I'm far too good-looking), but the number 34 and the Miami Dolphins have taken over my life. Let's hope this has been fun for you, because it's pushed me to the brink of insanity.

34...34...34...34...

For more articles written about random numbers, head to The Chirp Show ! I promise I'll be out of the asylum in time to spruce it up a bit.

Foul Ball: The Toronto Raptors' Love Affair with the Whistle

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 23:37:07 -0500

Well the Toronto Raptors had themselves an interesting week. Why don't we give them a hand?

(Wait for it.)

(C'mon Geoff keep it togeth-)

BECAUSE THEY SURE DID IT FOR THEIR OPPONENTS!

I'm not above hackiness.

It's been an up-and-down season thus far. The Raps' only win came against a tired Cavs squad in a game that Toronto almost squandered in the second half. Then Memphis and Orlando exploited the Raps' defense like a naive nudist in two consecutive losses.

The defense was certainly a concern coming into the season. And after watching the Grizzlies and Magic pour in buckets, that concern has been justified.

But we already knew that was going to happen.

What's really worrying is that a terrible defense has developed some bad habits; the Raps have been hacking more than a Geoff Zochodne introduction.

(Did I just reference myself? Yeah, I'm not exactly on fire today.)

In three games Toronto has averaged 29 fouls a game. Last season the Raps were only caught with their hands in the cookie jar 19.3 times a game. Toronto also held their opponents last season to only 21.5 free throw attempts, the third-least in the NBA.

In any case, the '09-'10 Raptors have checked their inhibitions at the door. Due to their high volume of whistles, Toronto is paying for it at the charity stripe.

On Sunday the Magic had 41 free throws, which would have been high but acceptable if Dwight Howard and co. didn't make 36 of them. The Magic, who last year shot 72 percent from the line (30th in the league), gouged the Raps by making 88 percent of their free throws.

Those 36 points gained off fouls eclipsed Toronto's 26 from the line and—surprise, surprise—the Raps lost by nine.

But like I said above, Orlando from the line is an ugly thing to behold. If anyone could have foretold Howard's 14-16 performance chances are their last name is McFly. So maybe this game is forgivable...maybe.

In Memphis, Toronto allowed the Grizz 35 FTA's and they converted on 28 of them; this would have been acceptable if the Raps won the game.

But they didn't, and instead the Frankenstein of the NBA beat the Raptors. Toronto ended up surrendering a very winnable game, and the abundance of free points contributed to this.

Against the Cavaliers in the season opener, the Raps gave Cleveland 37 FTA's. And if the Cavs weren't still high off of Rasheed Wallace's hairspray they might have made more than the 24 they did. Bless you 'Sheed, T on buddy.

A leaky defense was expected from Toronto, but letting teams carve you up from the line is like watching a sloth beat you in chess.

But perhaps there is a method to this excruciating madness. After all, the defense does suck, so why not just send teams to the line and put the eyes of thousands on their every move? It should have worked against Dwight Howard if he didn't sell his soul for the ability to make a free throw.

That makes a sick kind of sense, except the Raptors are inconsistent in the implementation of it (if it's even a sound plan).

Against Memphis, Zach Randolph was cutting up the Raps. Instead of fouling him (a 70 percent FT shooter last year), they let Z-Bo run rampant through their defense. Randolph had only four shots from the foul line and finished with 30 points.

If I had a concrete point, it would be that if the Raps are going to play shoddy defense they have to stop fouling teams so much.

Conceding a basket every now and then shouldn't deter a team that is as offensively gifted as the Raptors. Just let it go, reload, and get up the floor to answer. That's not to say don't play hard and tough, but it's just asking Toronto to play smarter on defense, to know when you're beat.

Maybe this is just another indicator that the Raps definitively lack defensive talent. Not only are they bad, but they're incompetent too? This just keeps getting better and better.

Of course, this is a small sample to draw conclusions from. But if the Raptors don't draw some conclusions of their own and decide how they want to play (and win) games, then it's going to be quite a season.

Jay Triano needs to sort out his team before they gift wrap more games for teams. Maybe if they present a better gameplan they can turn it around.

Okay, I'm finished.

If you can read this, go to The Chirp Show . And if you can't...well...what are you doing on a site that's like all text? Oh, I guess you can't read that either. Sorry.

The Phinal Word: The Miami Dolphins and the Faulk Effect

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 20:24:46 -0400

There are plenty of reasons the Miami Dolphins lost on Sunday.

Ted Ginn's drops. Chad Henne's inexperience. The New Orleans Saints' unstoppable offense. Tony Sparano's record skipping a beat. The hastily prepared jambalaya they had for lunch. The lack of clean towels.

People thought the Miami Dolphins could win this football game for the same reason they win any game: by running the football, controlling the clock, and minimizing mistakes. The belief abound was that the Fins wouldn't succumb to the shootout-style of football New Orleans plays.

And in the first half they even managed to force some turnovers from the Saints. Things couldn't have been going more according to plan. I was already laying out my gloating outfit and queuing up the fight song. And then, while halfway through a little jig, the rug was pulled out from underneath the Fins. Needless to say, I would jig no more.

Leading football scientists refer to it as The Faulk Effect . They would have called it the Warner Effect (sounded too much like a hair loss/greying action), or the Az-Zahir Hakim Effect (too many hyphens), or the Dick Vermeil Effect (too much crying); but The Faulk Effect was decided to be best.

What The Faulk Effect consists of is an uber-dominant offense that dictates games and destroys game plans. Having a dangerous offense that puts up points in bunches means less talented teams are forced to move faster to keep pace. In trying to keep pace, the other team abandons the way they win football games and just tries to emulate their opponent. You wind up playing catch-up rather than imposing your will.

The comparison has been made between the New Orleans Saints and the 1999 St.Louis Rams (hence The Faulk Effect); and if it hasn't, I'm making it now.

Like the '99 Rams, the Saints have an excellent QB, a dangerous running back, and a full compliment of excellent receivers. Trying to stop them is like trying to stop Godzilla moving through downtown Tokyo. You can throw Mothra at him for a bit, but the thing's a bug. How can that beat a radioactive dinosaur?

The point is (aside from avoiding downtown Tokyo) that both the '99 Rams and '09 Saints have the ability to force teams to play their style of football. You can try to contain them, but they're going to find a way to score (like Wilt Chamberlain if he played in the WNBA). And when they do score you have to respond, and thus begins the shootout you never wanted in the first place.

When New Orleans starts to ramp it up, it takes a team out of their comfort zone and forces them to mirror the Saints. Teams that fall into this find out the hard way that they aren't New Orleans and that they don't have the tools to score the way the Saints can.

Philly, Detroit, and the Giants all felt the symptoms of The Faulk Effect. New York had Eli Manning squander bomb after bomb deep, instead of handing off to their bread and butter of Ahmad Bradshaw and Brandon Jacobs. And slowly but surely, the game got away from them.

This is the hole that Miami fell into.

The entire first half was spent watching the Fins follow their game plan to a T(ony Sparano). They controlled the football and kept Drew Brees eating gumbo on the sidelines for as long as they could. Miami even made some big plays that were unexpected, but very welcome.

Then wide receiver Davone Bess fumbled and gave the Saints a touchdown right before the half. Instead of being up a comfortable three scores, the Fins were now touchable. Safety Darren Sharper's quick pick-six after halftime had the Fins scrambling to respond and they overreacted.

The Faulk Effect had reared it's ugly head. Which isn't to say Marshall Faulk is ugly, but rather that the effect itself is ugly. Some might even call Faulk dashing...ahem. Moving on.

In the first half the Fins had 10 first downs, seven on the ground and three through the air. After the half, Miami ended up with just six more first downs, this time with only one on the the ground and five through the air. They completely abandoned their way of playing football.

Chad Henne ended up throwing 26 passes in the second half, the same amount he threw in the entire game against the New York Jets. Henne's 36 pass attempts on Sunday were the most he'd ever thrown in his NFL career. He also managed (with a little help from his friends) to throw two interceptions in the second half as well.

Miami's time of possession in the second half was 11:13, compared to 18:47 for the Saints. For a team that's made their living minimizing mistakes, running the football, and controlling the clock, they somehow managed to ignore everything that's given them success.

The Saints can't be stopped, but they can be contained. The Dolphins did more than most teams have, and stopped them for a half. But when the Saints extracted themselves out from under the Fins' thumb (do flippers have thumbs?) the Dolphins had trouble containing their own inhibitions.

With New Orleans off to the races, Miami started to imitate the Saints. Instead of sticking with their run-and-stun offense, they ended up trying to match Brees and Co.'s torrid pace.

You could even make the case that Ginn's late drops were because he was trying to turn upfield too quickly, trying to make the big play instead of just a play. The Faulk Effect can impact players in such a fashion.

So call it a choke, or a brain fart. It was a little bit of both. Now there's an interesting picture.

But for a team that runs draws on third-and-six, the second half of Sunday's game was a shocking reversal of their standards and practices. The Faulk Effect is not to be toyed with.

You heard me NFL.

(Note: Feel free to toy with The Romo Effect, which breaks down pretty much like Murphy's Law.)

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Miami Dolphins-New Orleans Saints: Fighting For The Love Of The Tuna

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 23:25:48 -0400

Bill Parcells.

Oh, you sly fox.

People may be fooled into thinking this Miami-New Orleans game is just about football. But it's so much more.

It's two sons fighting for their father's affections, and it's going to be a bitter family affair.

I'll elaborate.

Bill Parcells was a football coach. He was a great football coach. The people who coached underneath him during his career went on to their own coaching careers of varying success.

Coaches like Bill Belichick, Tom Coughlin, and the perpetually furious Todd Haley all coached under The Tuna. And, so did Sean Payton and Tony Sparano.

DUN-DUN-DUN.

Payton and Sparano joined Parcells during the Dallas phase of his career. For Parcells, he was at the experimental stage, he had been around long enough to realize he needed to embiggen his legend.

He was like a famous band that starts taking drugs to find inspiration. Why else would he take a job with a team that had been among his staunchest rivals while with the Giants? Don't say drugs either. That was just a metaphor.

In Dallas, Parcells cemented himself as The Retunavator. He was the cooler, he was Swayze in Roadhouse. You brought him in and he started dropping the bad guys until you were a winner (even though Dallas didn't win a playoff game).

Sean Payton joined Parcells in Dallas in 2003. During his stay, he helped Parcells win games by turning Quincy Carter, Vinny Testaverde, and Drew Bledsoe into serviceable quarterbacks. Payton was Parcells' golden boy, and he was rewarded by being promoted to assistant head coach.

In 2004, Payton was offered the Oakland Raiders head coaching position. With Parcells' tutelage, he politely declined (or just resisted the urge to vomit in his mouth). He would listen to Dad...for now.

The temptation of head coaching is a seductive beast. It's like a grizzly bear that buys you drinks. Either you come with it peacefully and with a buzz, or you take a paw to the face and get dragged off anyway.

So it shouldn't surprise you (seeing as we live in this crazy future), that Payton eventually took a head coaching job. In 2006, the New Orleans Saints welcomed Parcells' prodigy to the Big Easy.

Payton wasted no time in sticking it to his former boss by schwacking the Cowboys 42-17 with his Saints during the 2006 season. The bond between them was severed. And yes, I am being overdramatic.

Tony Sparano joined the Dallas Cowboys with Payton in 2003, as a tight ends coach. During his stay he helped develop Jason Witten and spruce up the offensive line. And guess who was there to assume the playcalling duties after Payton left?

It wasn't Payton. Why? Because I just told you that he left. PAY ATTENTION.

It was Tony Sparano.

He stayed behind to assist Parcells while Payton was off tossing beads in Ol' Swampy. And because Parcells is a loving football god, he rewarded Sparano with the head coaching job in Miami after he moved there.

This sets up a showdown between the guy who stayed with Parcells, and his prodigy who left for greener pastures.

It's a modern day prodigal son story.

Payton is the son who bailed to whoop it up, and Sparano is the son who stayed behind to work the fields and whatnot. Now the two are squaring off over the fatted calf.

Both have succeeded through their various routes, but only one can win the love of The Tuna.

It's a coaching showdown of the highest caliber. The former teacher's pet takes on the current one. It's the story that Hollywood refuses to make (having rejected my screenplay countless times).

And at the end of the day, the winner will be Bill Parcells. He has brought two more great coaches into the league, and they hope to do him proud come Sunday. Parcells' legacy is stamped on the NFL like a lower back tattoo on the promiscuous.

And there's no better way to put it.

(Probably.)

QUICK SLANT

-The Miami Dolphins are 6-3 lifetime against the Saints. The last time they played was in 2005, where they triumphed 21-6, with Ronnie Brown rushing for 106 yards.

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Toronto Raptors: A Team for Whom Winning Is More Than Half the Battle

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 19 Oct 2009 21:23:35 -0400

What if Shakespeare had only written half of Romeo and Juliet ? It would be a nice story about falling in love with no consequences whatsoever; no one gets poisoned, stabbed, or has a thumb bitten at them. Boooooring.

What if Coppola only made the first half of The Godfather ? We'd all be wondering why the Corleones were softer than a marshmallow in heat. Hm, that's slightly inappropriate...

But what if the Hokey Pokey was never completed? We'd never know what it's all about. It would be chaos, pure, PG-Rated, chaos.

So let me tell you what I'm all about (I swear to God it's not the Hokey Pokey): If the Toronto Raptors need to improve on one thing, it's finishing games and winning the second half.

We've almost closed the book on the NBA preseason (Sonny Weems: A Man For All Preseasons is definitely making the bestseller lists); and the premature season hasn't treated the Raptors kindly thus far. They've compiled a 2-5 record and have had fans everywhere wondering what this means for the upcoming season.

It could all just be preseason hyperbole, or it could be some ominous foreshadowing, at the moment it's improbable to tell (that improbable was for all you time travelers out there, I got your back Doc and Marty).

One thing that needs to change for the Raptors to win is the fashion in which they play the second halves of games.

Last season the Raptors had the tendency to mail in (or more accurately, blow) the second half. Of their 49 losses, 16 came with Toronto leading, or tied with their opponents at halftime.

If you take half of those leads and convert them to wins, the Raptors are a .500 team and playoff bound. If you convert all 16, the Raps are 49-33 and third in the Eastern Conference. Big ifs, but Toronto had the opportunity to win these games.

This season, if the Raps want to win they have to reassert their killer instinct.

So how do you go about that (and it's not by killing people, you psychos)?

Too often the Raptors had possessions that featured five guys standing around doing nothing. It was like an episode of Entourage, sans the sunglasses, and casual homophobia.

The easy answer is that the Raptors didn't have a lot of options. Their trio of Bosh, Bargnani, and Calderon was the driving force behind their offense; and injuries to Bosh and Calderon limited them severely.

Teams could lock on to the threesome and derail the Raps' offense. Shawn Marion wasn't much for creating his own shot, and beyond him Toronto had no real tangible threats to keep teams honest. Like how the New Jersey Nets lied about stealing those cookies. I SAW YOU DEVIN HARRIS. THAT WAS MY PEANUT BRITTLE.

That's why the Raps and Bryan Colangelo swiped Hedo Turkoglu. He's a guy who can drive and drum up some offense on his own.

Last season the lowest net PER from a Raptors position was the small forward spot (-3.8). Enter Turkoglu, the big man will give the three a much needed shot in the arm, by providing matchup problems on the offensive, and to a lesser extent, the defensive end.

Having Turkoglu (and Jarrett Jack too for that matter) allows the Raptors to have playmakers on the court at all times. The lull periods that came to the Raps last season can be reduced, hopefully.

In this preseason the Raptors have dropped one game (to the Houston Rockets) while leading at the half. Not too shabby, but the fact that they're still 2-5 doesn't inspire confidence.

For reference though, the Cleveland Cavaliers went 3-5 last preseason, Minnesota was 6-2, and Sacramento was 1-7. Okay, the last one wasn't that crazy. But it's just something to note, that preseason successes and failures don't always dictate regular season results.

One thing that's for sure though, is that if the Toronto Raptors don't learn how to finish games, fans are in for a long seasons. And it's already like six months, so you might want to buy some canned goods or something.

(And if there's one thing for sure, it's that I say there's one thing for sure a lot. That's for sure.)

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The Phinal Word: The Miami Dolphins vs. the Rule Book

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 14:35:06 -0400

The Miami Dolphins and New York Jets continued their fine tradition of hating each other by playing a very entertaining Monday nighter.

Really the only words for it was: couch-defying. As in, I defied gravity's influence towards me on the couch, as the game launched me off it with Ronnie Brown's game-winning touchdown.

I was like a younger, whiter, less athletic, less competitive, poorer, Michael Jordan taking off from the foul line. My six-inch vertical leap had me brush the heavens with ecstasy.

And now it's Thursday and I'm ready to start complaining again.

So let's do this thing (I promise I won't compare myself to Michael Jordan again).

The only thing I could glean from this game—that didn't have me giggling like a schoolgirl at a Jonas Brothers concert—was Miami's secondary and it's lack of respect for the rules.

Or it could have been that the referees were flagging Miami's secondary for even sneezing in the direction of Jets receivers. I'm undecided. So let's bring forth the evidence for Geudge Geoff to make his ruling.

In case you hadn't noticed (and it's all I noticed until Miami won), the refs were merciless in their penalizing of Miami. The Fins finished with eight penalties for 112 yards. They pretty much conceded a touchdown through penalties (and yet the Jets still couldn't win...).

Miami's burden came from the zeal that their safeties show for clobbering receivers. Yeremiah Bell and Gibrill Wilson each received penalties for hitting a couple of poor souls who dared to wander across the middle.

Now I'm no expert here—I flunked out of Gridiron U after coming to class dressed as Al Davis—but the call against Bell was especially questionable.

Dustin Keller went up to make a catch on a ball that was thrown a touch too high. Bell then went up and smacked Keller in the same manner a person would smack a kid's hand away from the cookie jar.

Bell was then flagged for pass interference for endangering the welfare of a defenseless receiver. For shame. On the flip side though, Bell walked away from the play more shaken up than Keller was. The contact was mediocre at best, but the call was still made.

I was a tad upset, but my roommates gave me some warm beer and I quieted down accordingly. So let's move on to something that has a little more bite.

In the second quarter, the Jets were staring at 3rd-and-10 from their own 29. Mark Sanchez failed to complete a pass to Braylon Edwards that was broken up by Gibrill Wilson. What a play! Nothing can stop the Fi...

Flag.

Not on Wilson this time, but on Will Allen for illegal contact. The ball was moved four yards to the spot of the foul and the Jets were given a first down.

I'm not one to rock the boat. I take the words of the Hues Corporation very seriously when they say not to rock the boat, baby. But allow me this one boat-rocking transgression.

Illegal contact against a receiver has to occur five yards or further from the line of scrimmage. Inside those five yards, the defensive player can jam the receiver accordingly. Since the penalty was only four yards, this means that a) Allen gave a roundhouse kick to the receiver at four yards or b) that the refs blew it.

(Note: If I missed something here, please correct me.)

Since you're unlikely to see the foul happening from highlights, or even in the game, due to the length of Sanchez's pass, it's hard to tell. All I can say is that the refs were particularly unfair to Will Allen this game.

Let's fast-forward to the fourth quarter, where heroes are made, and where Rex Ryan starts craving a chicken-fried steak.

The Jets have a 1st-and-10 from their 48. Sanchez heaves yet another bomb towards Edwards that falls incomplete, a few yards ahead of Braylon. Can you taste that victory, it's almost preordain...

FLAG.

On Will Allen once again.

The call is pass interference on Allen for battling with Edwards and the ball is moved 49 yards to Miami's three-yard line.

Looking at that play, even the announcers (as biased towards the great Sanchise as they may be) recognized that it should have just been a no call. This still didn't stop them from praising the Jets for putting together such long drives (founded on penalties they deemed unworthy) right after New York scored a play later.

Clearly, there is a difference in opinion between the Dolphin defensive backs and the refs on what composes pass interference.

Now I realize I'm a bit tardy to the official-criticizing party (sorry Ray Lewis, don't hurt me), but some of the refs calls against Miami's secondary were questionable. And I also realize that's an incredibly strong statement (it's not), but it still says something for the state of officiating in the NFL.

Maybe Miami needs to rethink how they cover receivers. It's possible. The Fins defense has had trouble containing the pass all year and maybe they finally cracked a bit.

But it's also possible that refs just didn't know what they were doing.

Or...

Maybe they knew EXACTLY what they were doing.

We now enter The Conspiracy Zone.

Call me a fool, but wasn't Monday night part of the Hispanic Appreciation Night that the NFL was putting on? And wouldn't it make more sense to bolster Hispanic support if a quarterback with Hispanic roots (Mark Sanchez), won the game?

Could the refs be working to aid the NFL's new agenda? Can I ask anymore questions without coming off as a complete nut? Have you had enough question marks yet?

We are now leaving The Conspiracy Zone. Y'all come back now.

Miami had five pass interference-related calls made against them Monday night. They have a bye this week and then after that they play the New Orleans Saints.

The Saints, if you haven't noticed, sport a birthmark-adorned quarterback named Drew Brees. Brees is known for picking apart secondaries like he was a Canuck picking apart a turkey at Canadian Thanksgiving (which was last weekend, for all you crazy Americans). If the Fins can't work out their P.I. woes, they're in for a long day against the Brees-y Saints.

Just something to keep your eye on, but if it's not Drew Brees Appreciation Night on the 25th, Miami should be all right.

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The Phinal Word: The Miami Dolphins' Pass Rush Has Come to Town

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 16:42:42 -0400

Two weeks ago, Chad Pennington got hurt. Miami fans everywhere were screaming a) Chad Henne! b) Pat White! or c) NOOOOOOO!

Henne was the only quarterback the Fins had available to suit up against the Chargers that afternoon; Pat White being inactive. Why was White inactive? Why were so many fans' dreams of the WildPat going unfulfilled?

Because the Dolphins decided to activate a certain linebacker named Cameron Wake.

For the unenlightened (and if that's the case, lighten up), Wake is the man who ran roughshod over a depleted Buffalo offensive line, notching three sacks, four tackles for loss, and a forced fumble.

I have appointed myself the unofficial biographer of Cameron Wake. And for those of you who saw my award-winning documentary on why my roommate needs to clean the kitchen, you know that I'm quite qualified.

Cameron Wake was born January 30, 1982 in Beltsville, Maryland. He attended Penn State and played as a linebacker there, recording 191 total tackles, 8.5 sacks, and 24 tackles for loss.

Wake went undrafted out of Penn State, signed briefly with the New York Giants and was released. It was at this point he discovered he hated quarterbacks, especially those who played for the CFL.

Luckily for Wake, his destructive tendencies toward canuck pivots was nourished, and he signed a contract with the B.C. Lions of the Canadian Football League.

In two seasons with the Lions, Wake had two double-digit sack seasons (16 and 23). It was at this point the NFL realized they had deported the wrong man. A bidding war broke out for Wake's services and he and his unholy crusade against all things quarterback arrived in Miami.

(Insert fist pump here)

Now, a Michael Moore film that wasn't. But I just fear for my health to gain the amount of weight necessary to match the big man from Flint. Yes, that was a fat joke. I'm not above them.

Miami now possesses a three-headed pass rushing monster led by Wake, Jason Taylor, and the returning Joey Porter.

Jason Taylor should be thanking the Football Gods that they don't watch Dancing With the Stars, or even Redskins games for that matter (would you?).

Lest we forget that JT had two of his best seasons when he was surrounded with another good pass rusher. While paired with Adewale Ogunleye in 2002-03, Taylor had 18.5 and 13 sack seasons (Ogunleye had 9.5 and 15 sacks, respectively). When he and Wake were united last week, Taylor notched himself two sacks.

It's a proven formula, you pair the aging, but still skilled defensive end, with a younger, more dynamic pass rusher. It's exactly what the Giants did to keep Michael Strahan fresh throughout their Super Bowl run. Having him and Osi Umenyiora (plus a pinch of Justin Tuck) together was dynamite.

And even though Joey Porter had a monster season last year, there's no telling how he could benefit from another legit presence to keep teams from ganging up on him. Even Randy Starks got in on the action last week, grabbing himself a sack. It just can't hurt the Dolphins having Wake out there.

Which brings me to this week's game against the New York Jets. Picture a nice 3rd-and-long for the Jets' offense. The Fins can trot out Taylor, Porter, and Wake to make Mark Sanchez start sweating like Rex Ryan does while eating (and Michael Moore too for that matter). Chalk up another fat joke.

In the brutal game it's bound to be, pressuring Sanchez could be the difference between winning and losing for Miami. In three losses, the Fins netted five sacks. And against Buffalo, even though their offensive line looks like a loose turnstile, the Fins had six sacks.

It's not rocket surgery. If you can pressure the quarterback you can win football games. It's why Peyton Manning picked the Fins apart on their first Monday nighter; he could have put a 500-piece jigsaw puzzle together back there.

And now the Wake-Taylor-Porter trifecta offers a unique and intimidating way to get pressure. For a team that has rookie corners in a suspect secondary, this is a great way to lessen their burden.

At this point I'd also like to dub myself the unofficial nickname-giver for Cameron Wake. Personally, I enjoy Cameron "He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're a-" Wake.

I think I might have beat Chris Berman to the punch on that one.

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The New England Patriots: Spooking the NFL One Week at a Time

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 17:50:04 -0400

First things first. I'm taking nothing away from the New England Patriots, who went out and tamed the Baltimore Ravens in a humbling manner.

Humbling.

The Pats have gone out and humbled two good sophomore quarterbacks in consecutive weeks. Matt Ryan and Joe Flacco played decent games.

But they were humbled.

Even the New York Jets victory over the Patriots seemed a bit off. The whole game looked like New York was waiting for New England to win it the whole time; all the Jets could do was keep blitzing and pray that Tom Brady would not find his stride.

And he's getting closer.

When Brady was knocked out at the beginning of last season there was a scramble to rearrange the AFC hierarchy. By the time New England regenerated itself, Miami had just squeaked by them in the East.

But there was a sense of waiting. A sense that the league had been given a brief respite from Brady, Belichick, and the Ark of the Covenant they keep stored under Foxborough (TOP...MEN).

Thanks to the glory that is cable TV, I was subjected to three weeks of Pats football. I'm not complaining, but I'm scared. New England is quickly re-establishing itself as THE PATRIOTS, as opposed to the Patriots, who played last year under Matt Cassel.

I'll spare you the resume. But the rest of the NFL knows who's been the team to beat this decade (hint: It rhymes with schmatriots and it's the Patriots).

And if you think there's not some black magic in the air than you haven't been paying attention; or are the one conjuring it, and in that case, have mercy on me and my heathen ways.

The powdered newt was present on that Monday night when Leodis Mckelvin decided that taking a knee was the loser's way out. Turns out that taking the kick out of the endzone was the same thing.

BLACK MAGIC.

Then the New York Jets with their newfangled defense and new head coach decided to step to the Pats. And then...

BLACK MAG-oh. Wait, New England lost?

Well let's take a good look at it.

New England had 18 first downs, New York had 14. The Pats had 299 total yards, the Jets 254. Tom Brady threw an interception, but the Jets lost a fumble. New England converted 33 percent of their third downs, the Jets converted 27 percent. The only reason the Pats could have lost was...

BLACK MAGIC.

See, it works both ways.

We'll come back to this game because I feel like there's still something left to be explored. More like, BLACK MAGI-plored. No? Just explored? Fine.

Then young pup Matt Ryan and his Atlanta Falcons strolled into Foxborough and were sent packing. The Patriots muscled out a victory, and the scary part was that Tom Brady was disappointed in his throwing. He did miss a few open receivers and the Pats had to settle for field goals. And they still won by two scores.

BLACK MAGIC.

The Falcons were borderline contenders (or pretenders), but they still had a very competent and skilled young quarterback. They also had a dynamic running back and a new tight end who was red zone dynamite. Well, something blew that game...

(The Falcons)

And then yesterday Joe Flacco, Ray Lewis, and the always uber-competitive Ravens, strolled into Gillette Stadium and were forced to eat crow (get it?).

The argument can be made about the officiating, but let's ignore it because it's been hammered to death by people smarter than me. But when Mark Clayton takes a perfect ball off the chest, then something is amiss. It must be...

BLACK...

Geoff's Brain: Geoff that's not funny, you should probably stop saying it.

Geoff: But they're evil Brain, EVIL!

Geoff's Brain: Ugh, fine, say it. But you have to read a book to me later.

MAGIC!!!!!

I'll make my point quickly and depart.

The New England Patriots reputation has preceded them this season. We just don't know it yet.

Tom Brady is still recuperating from his knee injury. Can you blame him? The guy's reliving that hit every time he drops back. It's like my dream where I'm always falling...great, now I won't sleep tonight.

But Brady is slowly regaining his form, and in the meantime the rest of the NFL is cowering and praying that Matt Cassel just dreamed that he left for Kansas City.

There's a word that can describe how teams are playing the Patriots right now: Hesitant.

They're expecting the 2007 Patriots to show up, and in the process they're losing winnable games.

Which brings me back to the New York Jets win against New England. The Jets' first five drives against the Pats went: Punt, fumble, punt, punt, field goal. Then the half ended and the Jets later returned to the field; most likely after Rex Ryan tore them a new one. They then proceeded to beat the Patriots.

Because they realized they could? Or because they realized they should? Or did they chop some wood? I feel like maybe I just misunderstood.

And you think that didn't happen to the Ravens offense this weekend? Fumble, touchdown, punt, punt, interception (first five drives again). They were shook.

If teams want to beat New England (and they should, right?) they need to go out there and smack them in the mouth. You have to act, instead of just reacting to what Patriots decide to show up. The Pats' aura of invincibility was smashed off David Tyree's helmet.

...either that or Gillette Stadium is haunted.

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M.I.A.: The Miami Dolphins' Return Game

Geoff Zochodne — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 16:16:30 -0400

I don't think I've ever been more scared to watch football than I am to watch this Sunday.

And it's not because my TV is situated on an Indian burial ground. Because that's just not the correct term (it's Native American, no?).

It's because I'm afraid the Miami Dolphins are irrevocably terrible. And the evidence is quickly mounting.

The offense is in disarray (except you, Ronnie Brown, you are very much in array) and the defense couldn't slow down opposing receivers with a clever riddle and a baseball bat.

With that said, how in Dan Marino's name are the Miami Dolphins going to win this weekend? Divine intervention? An asteroid striking the Bills' team bus? Tony Sparano calls The Annexation of Puerto Rico?

Oh wait, they're playing the Buffalo Bills? Hmm. This game just went from "terrifying" to "terrifyingly winnable." And that's no insult to Buffalo, it's just that the Bills have a tendency to sniff out defeat like a pig does truffles.

So if Miami has half an offense and half a defense, is that enough to beat the chronically blowing-it Bills?

Am I forgetting something?

I left the stove on?

No wait, special teams.

Has anyone seen Miami's special teams? Have I gone blind?

In case you hadn't noticed (wake up, sleepy head), Miami hasn't been getting a whole lot of support from their specialty teams. In fact, the offense should be trying to garnish the kickoff return team's wages to buy babyfood for the horrifying love-child that is Miami's average starting field position.

On kickoffs, Miami is averaging 20.7 yards a return (between Patrick Cobbs and Ted Ginn), good for 27th in the NFL. Their longest kick return? Twenty-five yards. I know they've been lacking explosiveness, but this is like trying to split the atom with a cherry bomb.

What about punt returns? What you don't want to know? Come on.

Miami is averaging seven yards a punt return (all by Davone Bess)—20th in the league. Miami's longest punt return is a paltry nine yards. And they've also only taken a single fair catch (and have only four returns total), making them as potent on punt return as a de-venomed cobra at a mongoose convention. Wow, that was a reach.

Fortunately, Miami covers kicks like a 20-something gold-digger does with her 80-year-old husband's life insurance.

Opponents are only averaging 17.1 yards a kick return and 6.9 yards on punt returns against Miami. So, in essence, Miami is holding opponents to Miami-esque numbers. Cosmic.

You should also note the absence of one stat in the above sspiel: Touchdowns. When was the last time Miami scored a touchdown on a kick or punt return?

2007.

And yes, that was the same 2007 wherein the Fins went 1-15. Thankfully, Ted Ginn scored an 87-yard punt return for a touchdown. Otherwise that season could have been embarrassing, eh, Cam Cameron?

My point is this: Miami could really use a hand from their special teams (particularly their return teams) this week.

Chad Henne is making his first career start. How great would it be for the guy if he could start a drive on the opponents' side of the field? It's the perfect gift from a squad that hasn't had a touchdown return in too long.

Also, as yet another jab at the Buffalo faithful, let us not forget the way to beat the Buffalo Bills.

I'm sorry, Buffalo (Muahahahahahahaha).

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The Phinal Word: Are The Miami Dolphins Scared Of The Deep End?

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 19:27:38 -0400

I'll be blunt: the most excited I got all Sunday was when Chad Pennington's nose exploded.

Not because of my insatiable bloodlust, because you know, it's insatiable. But because I saw evidence that blood actually ran through the Dolphins instead of motor oil.

Pennington played an entire drive looking like he'd just squared off against George Foreman. It had me on my feet yelling an acapella version of the Rocky theme song.

The whole scene was awe-inspiring, and I was captivated up until Ronnie Brown and Pennington's successful punt. Or should I say fumbled touchback? It was too surreal to describe.

The point is that I was excited; it looked like Miami was ready to start exhibiting some passion. Because let's face it, the product on the field has been like a tour of a library.

Boooooooooooring. Informative (love that microfiche), but boring.

After three weeks, it's clear that Miami has a knack for controlling the football. Their drives are planned down to such an extent that Pennington was penciled in for water breaks at 5:30 and 5:37. The offense is a machine that churns it's way down the field.

And it works.

Watching Miami's offense play is inspiring. The way they manage to slowly matriculate themselves down the field is enough to make Mike Martz vomit with rage.

That being said, Miami is 0-3. And it's because the offense is lacking in testicular fortitude.

You could blame the defense for the losses (the secondary has been particularly culpable), but opponent scores of 19, 27 (ehhh, maybe that one, Peyton Manning was averaging a touchdown every five minutes of possession), and 23, shouldn't be insurmountable. Not in today's NFL, where every week is like being drunk on a roller coaster.

L'Audace, l'audace, l'audace.

Miami's offense boasts one of the most innovative schemes this decade in the Wildcat. So why is everything else in Miami's playbook so vanilla? Would it kill them to throw a pass longer than 10 yards?

The infamous draw against Indianapolis on 3rd-and-6 stood between Miami and a win. Playing it safe gets Peyton Manning tapdancing over your team's corpse. And you better believe he's throwing in some jazz hands.

Here's an example of Miami's wussiness: Philip Rivers longest throws of the day were 55 and 47-yard completions to Vincent Jackson and Malcolm Floyd, respectably. Miami's two longest completions were a 27-yard wheel route to Ronnie Brown and an earth-shattering 14-yard toss to Davone Bess (in contrast, Rivers also had 30 and 19-yard hook-ups).

The Ronnie Brown catch was thrown by Chad Henne, whose days of jabbing his Pennington voodoo doll are over. Henne is supposed to have something of an arm; Miami's play-calling for him looked like a child's My First Playbook.

It's been a season-long trend. The Fins have averaged a paltry 5.4 yards per completion, compared to 9.1 for their opponents. Before Pennington's injury, his longest pass was only 21-yards.

See, Miami's offense is perfect for being ahead of teams. It's designed to hold the ball and minimize turnovers. But when the unexpected arises (the touchback, Pennington's injury), it's limitations are all too apparent.

Sure, maybe Miami's receivers could have broken free after making one of their intermediary catches. It's possible. But what prior indicator could possibly point to that happening? Miami's offense lives in a world from the line of scrimmage to 15-yards. Before the ball is snapped, they've bottled themselves.

Even the Wildcat is trapped in the bottle. Miami has barely tried a throw from it; Pat White's appearances are mostly runs (he's got one pass attempt). How long will defenses honor the pass threat and start moving into the box? Of course, that could be exactly what the offense is waiting for...

So when Miami got behind against San Diego, the outcome was almost preordained. The mechanical nature of Miami's offense makes me wonder if John Connor is about to show up. Let's look at one more example before I crawl back to bed Brian Wilson-style.

Fourth quarter, 6:53 on the clock, San Diego 16, Miami 6, the ball is on Miami's 20. On first-and-10, Henne completes short left to Bess for three yards. On second-and-7, Ricky Williams rushes for eight and gets the first down. Yay! We can win this thing!

On first-and-10 from their 31, Henne goes short left...again, intending to hit Bess again, but instead hits San Diego's Eric Weddle in stride for a pick-six. Feel free to swear.

This is pure speculation, but when you limit your offense to such a small section of the field the opposing team can start to shrink their schemes to adjust. And even though it's Chad Henne and you don't want to rush him, it's also Week Three of the season, and it's time to win a game.

A nice five-minute drive is great, but Miami needed two scores to even think about winning this game. The situation necessitated some haste and pizazz.

And here's the thing: Henne can throw. He's supposed to be the quarterback with the cannon. When Pennington is in, he's the guy who owns that 15-yard bottle, no one is better than Chad No. 1 in the bottle. But when you've got Chad No. 2 in, air it out, he can do it.

Miami's receivers aren't the fleetest of foot, but I'm sure they can move quickly. They do play in the NFL after all, a place where an offensive lineman could run down a cheetah...over ten yards...on the moon.

Football is chaos trapped within white lines: All a coach can do is decide what ideas and personnel go into the field's confines. Tony Sparano needs to start pushing for deeper routes, because sometimes things can't be controlled. It's a competitive game and sometimes you're forced to innovate while in-game. The meltdown of a two-minute drill against Indy was proof enough for change.

So what happens when the control freak meets the uncontrollable? If I know anything about football (nine innings, right?), it's that you have to adapt to the situation you're in. It's the main reason why Tom Coughlin stopped trying to use the New York Giants to power his rejuvenation machine, eschewing his evil ways for a more accessible persona.

Next week, hopefully we'll see Miami go with the flow. Chances are they will anyways as Pennington, the man who always got hurt, got hurt. Fins fans should hold nothing against Pennington; he was responsible for the playoff vacation last year. I wish him the best.

Of all the 0-3 teams in the NFL, Miami feels like the best. Score one for oxymorons.

Until next week, which may just be a string of profanities, I'm Geoff Zochodne.

The Phinal Word: Positive Thinking (and Drinking)

Geoff Zochodne — Tue, 22 Sep 2009 19:05:43 -0400

I've run such a gamut of emotion since Monday night that my schizophrenia developed schizophrenia. And we're actually quite happy now.

Being an optimist is hard, especially when pessimism is easier than me after a few beers. That being said, I'm quite comfortable with the Miami Dolphins' current predicament.

And it's a predicament, 0-2 is a predicament. But at the risk of overusing predicament, this is one predicament I can handle.

Miami's offense executed a near perfect game plan on offense; and if not for some suspect play calling, a leaky secondary, and drops galore, things couldn't be peachier for the Fins.

So let's get positive!

Ricky Williams and Ronnie Brown rushed for more than 200 yards combined. The Wildcat returned in resplendent fashion. Jake Long survived the Dwight Freeney onslaught (barely). Chad Pennington managed a superb game and even made some deeper throws when the situation called for it.

Look me in the eye and tell me that Pennington had a bad game. You can't. Mostly because of the computer screen and the thousands of miles between us, but also because Chad played a good game.

Pennington has twice as many interceptions (two) as he does touchdowns this year (one). Not inspiring. He also barely set foot in the red zone all Monday night (four plays). Inside the 20 the Fins went Wild(cat) and it worked. Don't tag Pennington for that. Tag him for being a noodle-armed choir boy. I kid, I kid (Chad Penne-ington).

Two games, two impressive completion percentage performances (72.4 and 66.7 percent) from the most accurate passer in NFL history (I know, right?) that were wasted.

The Fins offense is a well-oiled machine, but the parts of the machine are just inferior in some places (receiver mostly). It's like dropping a drum of Pennzoil on a remote controlled car. Which, by the way, is a good way to get kicked out of Jiffy Lube. Just saying.

Under Pennington, the Fins converted 71 percent of their third downs. The "Sheriff" Peyton Manning and his Colts only converted 43 percent. Manning couldn't police a pioneer village with those numbers. Please refrain from looking at any other of Manning's stats.

If you're going to tag anyone (what is this, a manhunt or something?) ask why a couple of Pennington's longest throws were batted down like a pinata at Al Capone's house. Ted Ginn had himself a game, a two-headed monster that could be viewed as his coming out (11 catches 108 yards on national television) or the point where the blowback from being a semi-bust of a first-rounder turns him into a pariah (two potential touchdown passes dropped).

This is Ginn's year, for better or worse. He flashed some greatness, but a consistent effort (his catch rate is only 62 percent) is necessary to win in the NFL. That's why prunes have been classified as performance enhancing drugs.

Ginn has the tools, and it looks like he and Pennington have begun to develop a rapport. That needs to continue if Miami wants to stretch the field at any point this season.

The facts are that Miami's offense dominated the Colts front seven. Three quarters of the game were spent watching the Fins grind Indy into a fine dust that was then sold on South Beach ($9.95 a pound). Such ball control hasn't been seen since Jerome Bettis played Hog with his kids.

Lest we forget that a certain team started 0-2 last year, and then 1-4 after that. Those Miami Dolphins managed to win the AFC East despite early struggles. Miami has a lot of season left to play and if they can control the ball like the did against Indianapolis, while having their No-Name receiving corps step up, they can claw their way back.

I see things like this: Their run game is great, their pass game is adequate. Their run defense is great, their pass defense is ade-not quite (the height of word-smithery).

Part of that may be that Miami has a lack of rocket arms to test their defense in practice. Part of it may be the lethargic pass rush allowing two good quarterbacks pick apart a still leaking secondary. Part of it may be two premier tight ends having their way with Miami's linebackers. Part of it may be that their rookie cornerbacks are playing like it's their first year or something. Who knows (I do, I just told you)?.

Fortunately, next week Miami plays a San Diego team that hates to pass. They don't?

At least the Charger's loss of Jamal Williams has destabilized San Diego's run defense, so the time is ripe for Miami to uncork another 45 minute possession gem. I, for one, can't wait to watch Darren Sproles reading Little Women on the sidelines.

Also, the Fins run defense maintained it's steadfastness by holding a team to under 70 yards rushing in back-to-back weeks. If they can limit Philip Rivers' effectiveness while continuing to stop the run they have an excellent chance to win.

I refuse to believe this team isn't good. It is. Get ready to see it on Sunday against the Chargers.

Stay positive folks.

The Phinal Word: Don't Tread on These Miami Dolphins

Geoff Zochodne — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 18:45:23 -0400

Lost in the trauma that was Week One, was something very reassuring. The Miami Dolphins have a whale of a run defense.

(That will be the first of many nautical puns in my Dolphin writing career.)

Long ago, before Dan Marino ever fixed a rocket to his arm, the founders of football decided that in winning football games, defense and the run game were tantamount.

At least Miami had one of two, placing them in Bon Jovi territory ("...halfway there...whoa-oh, living on a prayer...").

The Dolphins allowed only 68 rushing yards to an Atlanta offense that boasts NFL fantasy darling Michael Turner. (I would know, I drafted him fourth overall and the freaking Fins burnt me.)

The Falcons averaged only two-and-a-half yards per carry against the Miami defense. This is a good sign for a team that has a history of good run defense. In 2008, Miami allowed 101.3 yards per game, good for 10th in the NFL.

The longest run the Falcons were able to muster all game was only 12 yards long. Barry Sanders once rushed for 12 yards in a dream where he was falling. The Fins were bending and then breaking down Atlanta.

Not where you thought I was going with that one, eh?

Even more titillating (was that titillating for you too?) is how well Miami controlled Atlanta's run game on third down. Miami only surrendered three rushing first downs to the Falcons, and none of them came on third down.

Some standouts for Miami: Philip Merling, who had four tackles (one for a loss) along with pressuring Matt Ryan like he wanted a DNA test from the guy. Jason Ferguson also re-established himself as being the centre of the universe (and Miami's defense) by nabbing a sack while filling gaps like a sweatshop.

Miami's pass defense wasn't as sterling, but it wasn't completely anemic either. The Fins allowed 213 yards through the air, but the Falcons were only averaging 6.4 yards per completion. Good, but not above reproach.

Much like myself.

The most important thing, though, is that in a division that has two teams (Buffalo and New York) that need to run the football to succeed, Miami is ready. Their defense can hopefully continue the one-game trend of being stingy against the rush.

Next week against Indianapolis will be a good indicator of whether or not Miami can continue to stop the run. Peyton Manning has never been afraid to defer, and with Anthony Gonzalez out, the Colts' options are limited. Miami has to be prepared to stop the famous Indianapolis stretch that signals fall like the leaves changing colour.

Joseph Addai and Donald Brown make up Indy's rushing attack, and their first week together was meh. Brown and Addai averaged three and two-and-a-half yards per carry, respectively.

That's about as frightening as having me suit up against the Fins. (Pssst, Indy, I'm available.)

Come Monday night, the Dolphins should continue stuffing runners. Because of this, the game will probably be decided like a Phil Collins song.

You can probably guess that one on your own.

Five Reasons to Believe in The Miami Dolphins

Geoff Zochodne — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 12:00:30 -0400

The football bourgeoisie have already deigned the Miami Dolphins will finish with an average record and end up out of playoff contention. And as it is written, so shall it be, right?

A phrase comes to mind: That's why they play the game.

It's easy to write off a team because a certain quarterback for a certain organization has returned. The fact remains that the Miami Dolphins are the AFC East Champs until proven otherwise. Just because a bunch of pundits are hammering opinions into your brain like a drunken handyman doesn't mean they'll come true. I've got a few reasons to believe in these Fins.

Bill Parcells

Has The Tuna ever steered a franchise wrong before? His Midas-touch is so effective that if I were him, I'd be afraid to go to the washroom. The fact that he resides in Miami's front office almost makes up for the fact that Jimmy Buffet is hammered on tequila three doors down in the same office.

Let's run through his credentials just to reassure ourselves:

-Two Super Bowls

-Three Conference Championships

-Five franchise rejuvenations

-Being the only man alive who could manage a coked-up Lawerence Taylor

-Three Murder, She Wrote marathons (I made that one up...probably)

With Parcells, you know what you're going to get: A big, scary, old man who is the football equivalent of buying Microsoft stock in the '80's.

The Wildcat (or Wildpat)/ The Mind of Tony Sparano

Call it a gimmick, say that it's time is up, mock Miami for resorting to such trickery; just don't say it doesn't work.

The Wildcat offense is the new scheme du jour in football, and the Fins are the head chef. Tony Sparano took a risk last season and it panned out, but he didn't stop there. The drafting of Pat White means Miami have a legitimate throwing threat in the backfield to keep blitz-happy defences at bay.

People can rag on the Wildcat for being overused or ineffective but they're wrong. Miami did what teams are supposed to do with their backs against the wall, they grew some...if I say cojones will the Estefans get angry?

The Fins have shown they have a competent coach who's not afraid to shatter the norms of football. It's about time.

An underrated offensive line

When the Dolphins spoiled all of our fun by signing Jake Long before the 2008 NFL Draft, it was about as climactic as the opening scene from Reservoir Dogs. Still, the man they call Jong (well, just me) is justifying his selection.

And like the mauling Michigan alum, the rest of the offensive line is very adept at run-blocking. Miami's running backs were averaging 4.28 yards per carry last season, for the unenlightened, that's a first down every three downs.

Even more inspiring was that their Power Success rate (the percentage of runs on third or fourth down with less than two yards to go that get converted) was 76 percent, eight points better than the league average. Somewhere, Dave Wannstedt just flinched.

Chad Pennington is about as mobile as a paraplegic shopping cart (maybe I'm exagerrating a bit, sorry Chad), so it should surprise you that Miami's offensive line only gave up 26 sacks last season. The big men in teal finished with a 5.7 percent adjusted sack rate, ranking them twelfth in the NFL.

This offensive line is legitimate and this season should cement them among the NFL elite. Probably.

Chad Pennington

When the Miami Dolphins picked up Chad Pennington, the rest of the league should have just arrested them there; because it was a steal! I will now punch myself in the face for making that terrible joke.

All terrible hilarity aside, Pennington was quietly one of the most effective quarterbacks in the NFL. If you believe in stats then listen to this: Pennington ranked sixth among QB's in Defense-adjusted Yards Above Replacement (or DYAR for the acronym-inclined). Even though that sounds like gibberish, and it does kinda look like gibberish, it means that Pennington was behind only Drew Brees, Peyton Manning, Philip Rivers, Kurt Warner, and Jay Cutler when it came to overall quarterback efficiency.

He doesn't make a lot of mistakes (only seven INT's), he's very accurate (his 67.6 completion percentage was tops among QB's) and he's a boon to the team's chemistry. Pennington's fragility is the only warning sign, and Miami has yet to experience that yet.

I'll just come out and say it: The only thing Tom Brady has over Pennington right now is a hotter girlfriend. What? Oh yeah, and maybe some Super Bowl rings, but whatever.

The defense is getting better

Miami's D was average last season, opponents were gaining 329 total yards a game against the Fins; good for 15th in the NFL.

Fortunately, Miami was not idle during the offseason. Jason Taylor danced his way back into the Teal and Orange after his failed remake of a Jimmy Stewart film, "Mr. Taylor Goes to Washington." JT is old, but if Bob Barker taught us anything it's that old people can still tell you what the actual retail price of things are. And maybe rush the passer. I don't know where I'm going with this.

Joey Porter is back, after a 17 1/2 sack vendetta against all things quarterback. The new addition Gibrill Wilson will team up with Yeremiah Bell to give opposing receivers no solace that the position they play is named safety. If Jason Ferguson can stay healthy this defense will thrive. IF (that's a big if, get it?).

Well I've still got two hours until all of this could blow up in my face so I think I'll spend it with the people I love (is Jack Daniel's a real person?). It's time for Miami to shake off it's inferiority complex and take it's rightful place as defenders of the AFC East crown. There's a reason they play the game, and it's because nothing's for certain until the final whistle blows.

All signs are pointing to one helluva season.

How to Keep Watching the Toronto Blue Jays

Geoff Zochodne — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 14:03:56 -0400

You know the Toronto Blue Jays are having a bad season when they start shattering records for attendance, but not in the good way. This week had two of the lowest attended games in Blue Jay history as Toronto squared off against the Minnesota Twins.

The onset of the NFL season has pretty much insured that only the hardiest of Jays fans are still paying attention. Personally, I've done my best impression of a corpse just trying to find something to write about. It's like trying to get a straight answer from Elton John (he's gay).

In light of this I've taken it upon myself to come up with some ways for Toronto fans to continue enjoying Jays games. Sure the only race they're still in is to stay out of the AL East basement, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the ride.

So sit back, try to relax (maybe take a sedative), and enjoy (maybe take another sedative), as I give you several means to enjoy the ends of this season.

1) Synch up Jays games with famous albums- Have you ever tried playing "Dark Side of the Moon" for the duration of a Jays game? Me neither, but I'm sure that by the time you get to, "Time" you'll be trippin'. Am I saying that right?

If it can work for The Wizard of Oz it has to work for the Jays. What better movie descibes the Jays than that? You have the Scarecrow who needs a brain (Ricciardi), the Tin Man who needs a heart (Ricciardi), the Cowardly Lion who needs some courage (Ricciardi), the Wizard who's really just a guy behind a curtain (Ricciardi), Dorothy who just wants to go home (Jeremy Accardo who finally got called up), and Toto (Hmmm...let's say John McDonald for no reason at all).

Or you could try Meat Loaf's, "Bat Out of Hell" which has no real meaning, but may sound hilarious contrasted with a Jays game.

2) Watch the game with someone you hate- Everyone loves watching the game with a friend, so why not with an enemy? Save yourself some time in your daily hate-commute and sit down with someone you dislike and kill two birds (get it?) with one stone.

This also opens up the floor to some insult improv as well:

Jays Announcer: And Vernon Wells grounds into the double play to end the inning.

You: You know what you and Vernon Wells have in common?

Your Enemy: No, what?

You: ...you both suck.

Your Enemy: (Revered silence)

3) Play a board game during the baseball game- Risk is the game of global domination, but play it during the Jays game and it's still kinda fun. There's nothing more stress-relieving than taking Kamchatcka from your adversary while watching the Jays limp through those final innings. And if you're losing at both you can flip the board, storm out, and go have a beer or something. It's a win-win situation.

4) Booze- I'm not advocating alcoholism here, I'm just saying that sprinkling in some elixir into your Jays-watching regimen can be healthy and fun. Try coming up with your own drinking games. My favorite used to be to take a shot whenever Rance Mulliniks said, "Put a good swing on it" but I kept ending up in the drunk tank with baseball shaped bruises.

Also, you can start making Blue Jay-themed cocktails; like the Rob Roenicke, the Mojito Scutaro, and the Lyle Overbay-which is drinking a beer while using only your right hand.

5) Mute the game and pretend like you're announcing it- Sure you might look crazy, but I'm sure if you've followed any of the above steps this is right up your alley. Try using inventive phrases that are laden with profanity to keep things fresh. Even better is improvising the dialogue between the first basemen and the runner on first.

Kevin Millar: How's it going man?

Runner: You're still here?

Millar: ...I've got nowhere else to go (begins sobbing).

Still, you might want to make sure you're alone or you'll have to un-mute the game using your toes (because you're in a straight-jacket).

6) Apply competitive eating to your baseball watching- Any freak of nature can eat 60 hot dogs in five minutes, but can you do the same in a single game? Here's a perfect chance to test your gastronomic capacity under the guise of watching baseball, just like Raul Chavez. You're probably dangerously underweight from having your soul sucked out anyways.

To be on the safe side though, you might want to invest in a treadmill or forklift afterwards, and at least a bathroom scale.

7) Gambling- Betting on baseball is a deplorable hobby, but since this has been a deplorable attempt at writing, why not? Try betting (Monopoly money, of course) on pitch outcomes if you're really daring. I'm giving 3-1 odds on a Marc Rzepczynski first-pitch ball.

Gambling will have you on the edge of your seat; the knowledge that if you lose your thumbs have a good shot at being broken is an excellent motivator. Also, it may keep you out of the Hall of Fame, but what are the odds (GET IT?!?!?!)?

8) Try emulating Brian Tallet's facial hair- The tallest Jay is also the one with the sweetest dust. Tallet, whether he is sporting mutton chops or a 1970's themed 'stache, is a great role model for facial hair afficionados.

Side effects may include: Itchiness, dizzy spells, an inflated ERA, and lack of attention from the opposite sex. Females should probably just avoid this one altogether. Wait, who am I kidding? No woman is reading this anyway.

9) Write a terrible article about watching Blue Jays games- It worked for me.

I'm also open to any other suggestions so feel free to join in or skewer the above selections. I'm off to eat 60 hot dogs while listening to "Led Zeppelin IV".

The Roy Halladay-Vince Carter Correlation

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 13:52:36 -0400

Roy Halladay has been noticeably distant lately. Not from the media or the team (well, maybe a little), but from the old Roy Halladay. He's maintaining a 4.71 ERA, 1.41 WHIP, and opposing batters are hitting .316 against him since the trade deadline. Not exactly Doc-esque.

Have the harsh realities of sport caught up with Doc? Or did all the hub-bub on account of a possible trade throw a monkey-wrench into the meticulous routine of Toronto's workhorse?

The most frightening thing is how much this resembles what happened with Vince Carter.

Well, I just threw up in my mouth a little.

For those of you who have forgotten, Vince Carter used to play for the Toronto Raptors wearing the No. 666. Carter, or "Air Canada" as he came to be known, was initially a boon to the young Raptors.

During VC's reign the Raptors reached the playoffs for the first time, and Carter himself became a one-man highlight reel.

He was a hard-working play-maker who was the heart and soul of the Raptors and their fans. You could have called Carter the Roy Halladay of the 1998-2004 Raptors (and for the purposes of this column you will). His performance at the 2000 Slam Dunk Contest cemented his status as the toast of the town, and revealed his greatness to the rest of the NBA.

Now for some reason, or several reasons (leaving Julius Erving cooling his heels outside the Air Canada Centre is never a good idea), relations between the Raptors and VC soured. Air Canada requested permission to take off, but the Raptors balked, and then slowly began to lose their control over the situation.

The whole affair ended with Carter being extradited to the New Jersey Nets in return for The Sopranos Season One Box Set. And there is no director's commentary in the world that can justify that trade.

What stung the most was Carter's admission of not playing his hardest during some games near the end of his Raptors tenure. Here was the face of the franchise, the man who had embodied that Air-merican dream, and the second he wanted out of Toronto he started phoning it in.

This revelation infuriated the fans in Toronto who suspected, but never had the evidence, that Carter was a loafing crybaby. VC is now booed more than a Montgomery Burns film every time he steps foot in the ACC. In the history of messy divorces, this was Henry VIII deciding on subpoenaing his wives with an executioner's axe.

Now here's where I slowly condemn myself into the lowest circle of Hell: The parallels between Vince Carter and Roy Halladay have started to show. Barely, but noticeably.

...

...Wait a second, I'm still alive? That's lucky.

Around the All-Star break, when the Roy Halladay sweepstakes were really heating up, you could almost sense that Doc had embraced the notion of being traded.

For weeks he had been bombarded with questions and drawn out of his shell; he had seemingly got into the spirit of the trade deadline.

Doc was thrust into the spotlight to a point where it seemed like he deserved to be traded, his talents wasted on a team like Toronto.

When Halladay wasn't traded it was so anti-climactic that all involved must have been numbed by the experience, Doc included.

It's almost incomprehensible that Halladay could be mailing it in. He could be hurt, his mechanics could be off, or he could just be physically and mentally exhausted by the rigors of this season.

Or maybe it's something else.

Think about it: The rest of the league knows Halladay. He's the only guarantee Toronto fans have had besides death, taxes, and the death tax (also known as Jays tickets). He doesn't need to prove anything to the league.

Halladay could be entering Vince Carter territory—the star player doing just enough to avoid serious criticism but secretly pining to get out of town.

His performance since the All-Star break has given a little bit of a base for these claims. All Halladay has to do is coast and pray that he gets traded before next season.

Even scarier would be if Halladay demanded a trade, Vince Carter-style. This would take all the leverage from the Toronto Blue Jays, just like it did the Toronto Raptors. Teams could try to short the Jays in any proposed deal.

Fortunately, everything we've come to know and respect Halladay for can probably dismiss this notion. If anything, this period should serve as a cautionary tale for us all.

Read this article; the parallels between the former Raptor and the current Jay are startling (except the hate). Both were valued for what they did both on and off the field, more than they probably realize.

Vince Carter stopped dunking; Roy Halladay could stop throwing complete games. Carter had jumper's knee; Halladay could have a tweaked groin. Carter's production dropped after he made public his wish to be traded Halladay's production has dropped after the Jays made public their attempts to trade him. Carter wanted a trade and got it; Halladay just has to say the word.

Maybe the day will come when we find ourselves booing a differently-clad Roy Halladay at Rogers Centre. I hope not, but if Halladay has begun the arduous process of distancing himself from Toronto, things will get out of hand quickly. Especially if that process involves a decline in effort.

Halladay has built himself a considerable legacy in Toronto. Like Vince Carter, Doc has transcended his team and become one of the treasures of his respective league. Here's hoping nothing ever comes back to taint that legacy. A quick return to form for Roy Halladay could reassure his fans that it remains untarnished.

Wow, did I seriously just write all of this?

I'm a jerk.

Buck Lyle'd: Overybay and His Future With The Toronto Blue Jays

Geoff Zochodne — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 23:20:31 -0400

Allow me to apologize for my almost week-long absence from the Bleachers (I know I've been missed like poison ivy, but I'd like to think that somewhere at least my parents have been wondering), but I'm in the middle of a move and have been internet-less for the duration of the great exodus.

Now on to my poor excuse for a narrative. It'll be grand! Actually, let's call it what it is: A slapdash article thrown together with little care for how it looks. Get excited people!

One of the most underrated subplots of this season has been Lyle Overbay, or maybe the lack of Lyle Overbay.

Loverbay's had a quietly effective season thus far. But having had to split time with the indomitable Kevin Millar—who can only be killed with silver bullets tipped with Nair—has put somewhat of a damper on the swagger for the lefty first basemen.

I feel that Overbay deserves a full season of being an every day first basemen once again. He'll probably get that opportunity anyways.

Overbay will head into the final season of a 4-year, $24 million contract in 2010. He was floated around on waivers this season and unlike one Alex Rios, accumulated little interest (in hindsight Chicago would have been better off claiming to be the home of the Whopper instead). Overbay will be back with Jays next year and I'm all for it.

Unfortunately, the current season has quickly become the Jason Voorhees of baseball seasons; it won't die and it's ruining summer vacation for everyone. Why Overbay hadn't been given a fuller reign before is baffling.

Although Cito Gaston had his reasons for platooning Loverbay and Millar, the logic behind it has been proven to be flawed. Millar has shown personally that the dead have risen and can't hit lefties any more than Overbay probably could.

That's not to say that Overbay hasn't had his troubles against left-handed pitching either. He's only hitting .203 against lefties and his OPS against them is .584. Not exactly a vote of confidence but let me work here for a minute.

In his career Overbay is hitting .267 against southpaws and has a somewhat respectable .717 OPS. It's not stunning, but it proves that he's not completely helpless.

It's been a long road back for Overbay since breaking his hand in 2007 and he's finally starting to resemble his 2006 form—where he was a doubles machine who would not be denied.

Another possibility that's been floated for next season would be shifting Adam Lind to first base. Lind, who has never been a sterling fielder, may benefit from taking over first. It's a safe move, but one that overlooks one of Overbay's greatest strengths.

Loverbay is an excellent defensive first basemen. His fielding percentage this season is .998 with only two errors. He's a near lock to catch anything thrown his way. His range is above average as well; per nine innings his "range factor" (his putouts and his assists combined, divided by his innings played) is 9.71 compared to the league average of 9.16.

Lind has proven himself to be an excellent hitter, but he could be permitted to spend another season manning the DH spot and left field; maybe even rotating with Randy Ruiz who has been said to be a good fielder. Let Overbay back into the lineup everyday and the Jays' defence will benefit.

In the cleanup spot Overbay has been hitting .348 with a .987 OPS. He's filled a key spot for the Jays a bit too late, having only hit 20 times in the four slot. A whole season there could reward Toronto with equal numbers, or at least an excuse to keep Vernon Wells far away from hitting cleanup.

An excellent article on the above topic can be found here.

So begins my "Overbay 2010" campaign. It may not even be warranted, but neither was a sequel to Caddyshack and that worked out great for everyone...didn't it? I don't know, I never saw it; was there golfing in it?

When you go to the polls this offseason vote Overbay, you probably don't have a choice anyways. Four more years! Four more years!

Anymore cliche election jokes? Is Overbay "not a crook?" Does he require better strategery at the plate? Should I just quit while I'm somewhat ahead, or at least still a touch readable?

Yep.

Don't Sal Yourself Short: Fasano and the Toronto Blue Jays' Catching Quandary

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 21:22:52 -0400

The Toronto Blue Jays can't catch a break this season. And hackneyed sayings aside, this brings me to my point.

(A special thanks to www.drunkjaysfans.com. Yes, Geoff Zochodne is my real name, and yes, I may be insane but it's mostly the Blue Jays' fault)

We are now entering a Highlander-type quandary (Can I set the record for most times using quandary in an article? Does it really matter?), except -SPOILER ALERT- pretend like Sean Connery didn't get killed and that there can be two in the end.

This issue has been beaten to death by now, but consider me Dr. Frankenstein of Mary Shelley's classic Young Frankenstein. I'm digging it up and slapping a new brain inside it, that may or may not be that of a deranged mental patient.

There's Ol' Hot Rod, Ol' Raul "Chevy" Chavez, and Ol' J.P. Arencibia waiting in the minors; Arencibia holding claim to the most adept J.P. in the organization. Two of them will be around next year, one will be figuratively beheaded by a figurative, centuries-old, Scottish clansman.

So who will stay and who will go?

There's a lot of pressure to bring up Arencibia as he is one of the crown jewels in Toronto's prospect scepter. Or prospecepter if you will.

Arencibia is currently hitting .227 with 13 HR and 56 RBI at Triple-A Las Vegas. Not spectacular but he's a lifetime .264 hitter in the minors, having hit over .300 as recently as last year.

And frankly, whether or not fans like it, he's coming. Arencibia will arrive in Toronto soon, whether it be this season or Opening Day next year. The Blue Jays are a team looking to the future and Arencibia is it.

So that leaves Barajas and Chavez, 34 and 35 respectively, and both free agents next season. Personally, I think the difference between the two is negligible.

Barajas is making $1.2 million this season and Chavez $500,000. Chavez is hitting a shade better than Barajas with his .262 average to Barajas' .235. But Chavez is a career .230 hitter and at 35 things aren't likely to improve drastically (Also, baseball-reference.com has Chavez listed 175 pounds, a generous estimate by all accounts).

Who do the Jays re-sign then?

Here's where you realize the extent of my delirium.

Why do the Jays have to choose between either? Why not bring in someone else? Why not bring back...wait for it...

Keep waiting...

Wait, come back, I'll tell you who:

SAL FASANO.

Oh yeah, you heard me.

Bring back the moustachioed Fasano to pair with young Arencibia or Charajas (I don't really care which).

Now before you lambaste me with whatever tool is necessary for lambasting, listen to my sensibly naive argument.

Fasano is 38 years old and is currently residing in the Colorado Rockies' minor league system. He's hitting a paltry .230 with 3 HR and 18 RBI in 54 games. He's splitting time with two other catchers though, but is still a career .221 hitter at the major league level.

Sal is also due for knee surgery in the offseason.

I know what you're thinking, and yes this is not exactly a compelling argument. I'm like Neville Chamberlain trying to explain why Czechoslovakia would be better off under Nazi leadership.

But there is no better person to teach Arencibia the business of being a major league catcher. He's the Dalai Lama of catching; if the Lama used to have a drinking problem and ate cheesesteaks.

When he was with Toronto in 2007 the other pitchers raved about how he called games and how he handled them while pitching.

Fasano also has a 31 percent average when throwing out baserunners, and he's tossing out 34 percent of runners at Triple-A.

Fasano would be exactly the kind of catcher for Toronto's patchwork rotation to learn from as well. Roy Halladay loved the guy when he was in Toronto, and if there's one thing Toronto should strive for it's keeping Roy Halladay happy. Just read this article for an example of the benefits of having Fasano catching your pitchers.

Fasano's shelf-life is probably another year or two as the end is rapidly approaching. But when it comes to a decision between Chavez and Barajas, I'd prefer a third option. I'd rather see Fasano limping around and being a world-class human being than the alternative.

Both Chavez and Barajas are scrambling for what will probably be their last contract. Fasano just wants another kick at the can and is a team player above all things. I say let the man kick and pray that his leg doesn't come flying off.

This article by Jeff Pearlman states better than I ever could, the intangibles of Sal Fasano.

Here's my dream scenario:

Arencibia is promoted, Chavez is contracted for another year, and Fasano is given a minor league deal. This way the Jays can shuffle Fasano and Chavez from Las Vegas at their whim, and the younger Jays are exposed to the greatness of Fasano at some level.

And yes, I am clutching at straws here.

Just check the 'stache people. In 'stache the Jays should trust.

Toronto Blue Jays: A Conversation Between Roy Halladay and His Body

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 14:09:50 -0400

We enter the Toronto Blue Jays' clubhouse. Roy Halladay is watching game film of his last start against the Boston Red Sox. It is 3 a.m. and the only other person in the room is a drunken John McDonald who is trying to catch self-tossed, beer bottle, pop fly's. He snags every. Single. One.

Roy Halladay: Well, that wasn't a great start last night. I can do much better, nay, I WILL do much better. Maybe if I just-

Roy Halladay's Arm: Roy, listen to me for a second.

RH: What is it Arm?

Arm: I'm tired man. Maybe it's time for an "anxiety" trip to the DL, no?

RH: Sorry arm. I owe it to this organization and my loyal fans. I'm all they've got right now and I need to be the man.

Arm: But you've tossed five complete games already! First in the American League! Your WHIP is lower than a chandelier in a dog house. You've pitched more innings than is allowable by the Geneva Convention. I'm pratically falling off here.

RH: Cram it, I'll get the soldering iron out in a bit.

Roy Halladay's Brain: Roy, I think it's time to call it a season buddy. Let's go A.J. Burnett all over this town.

RH: What did you just say to me? (Brain begins cowering) Brain, you just get back to watching film. I gotta bounce back and win this next start.

Brain: What for? No one cares anymore. I want to get back to curing cancer and putting a man on Mars. You promised me we could do those things Roy.

RH: I know Brain, but I must pitch well. I can't not try hard, I mean that's like sacrilege to me. The team and the fans appreciate my effort, I just know it.

Roy Halladay's Stomach: Not according to me. Your gut instinct is saying it's time to move on, and also to get a chicken parm sandwich.

RH: No I've got to get back to work. There's no time for sand-

Stomach: NO TIME FOR SANDWICHES?!?!?! HOW DARE YOU!

Brain: Listen, there will be plenty of time for sandwiches (Stomach growls in approval). Let's just focus on getting the hell out of Toronto first. Roy, the team is going to trade you in the offseason and the rest of the league already knows how good you are. Arm needs a break, I need to think, and stomach needs food. Do I hear a ringing? Because I think it's time to start phoning it in.

RH: Well... if you put it that way, maybe it is time for a little break.

Roy Halladay's Conscience: ROY! How dare you? I'm ashamed to be your conscience. You get back to work. It's time to start preparing for your next start.

Brain: Hey, the team is going nowhere. That nice guy who played right field...what's his name? Allan? He got dumped for nothing! They couldn't even sign all their draft picks for crying out loud! There's no plan in place, it's time to bolt.

Stomach: I think his name was Alex...

Brain: SILENCE. Let me speak. Think for a second: The organization is cutting costs while saying they're going to increase payroll, there are whispers about selling the team, they traded away your best defensive asset in Scott Rolen, Cito's lukewarm about returning, the rotation has a guy with a name I can't spell AND WE'RE STILL IN FOURTH PLACE. Did Frankie just go to Hollywood? Because it's time to relax, pal.

RH: NEVER. I didn't get to where I am by relaxing. I will persevere and this team will win, for I am Roy Halladay: Defender of the Blue Jays. Randy Ruiz will be a good DH, the rotation will blossom, we'll be just as good defensively, Cito will stay, I'll win the Cy Young, the organization will spend money and the Snidawg's back. Snidawg, Brain. SNIDAWG.

Brain: Ugh. Fine you jerk, be that way. Start throwing more curveballs inside to lefties.

RH: Thank you, Brain.

Enter J.P. Ricciardi, cue up music: Fastball's "The Way"

J.P. Ricciardi: Hey Roy, can we talk?

BRAIN: KILL.

Arm: PUNCH.

Conscience: RUN.

Stomach: EAT.

RH: Sorry pal, I'm a little busy getting ready for my next start.

J.P.: Oh, well can you write me a letter of recommendation later? Things aren't looking too good.

RH: Of course J.P.

J.P.'s Stomach: I'm starving. Where did you put Halladay's soul?

John McDonald (spotting J.P. through a veil of alcohol-induced tears): I got your letter of recommendation right here J.P. (He gestures towards a PG-13 area of his body). Why would you re-sign me and then just have me pinch run? WHY?!?!

(Note: All screenplay inquiries should be forwarded to geoffzochodne@gmail.com. The working title is, "Look Who's Chirping Now")

Toronto Blue Jays: The Cito Gaston Referendum, Part Two

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 10:51:37 -0400

For the explanation and rationale (part one) for this article, please read this.

We now go to the second part of my two-part Cito Gaston series; or as I like to call it, "A big waste of time".

In the first part we discussed Cito's role in the Toronto Blue Jays offence, so now we go to his job handling pitching and the defence.

It's going to be a CALLED STRIKE! I mean, ball.

To the untrained eye, Cito has done a bang-up job handling Toronto's starting rotation. But to the eye that lives alone and is self-educated, it's...well, pretty much the same.

Coming into the season, the starting rotation went: Halladay, Uh-oh, Dear God, The Pitching Machine, and Jesse Litsch. To be blunt, things were looking bleaker than Russia according to George Costanza.

Overall, Toronto's pitchers are sporting a 4.19 ERA. That's pretty much par for the course, or eleventh among MLB clubs.

Yet, the Jays have crafted a surprisingly good rotation.

They've had 62 quality starts (fifth in MLB) from 12 different starting pitchers. Cito has taken potential disaster and turned it into something slightly less disastrous. The Jays are still in fourth place, but with Gaston nurturing the pitching staff, things still look promising for the future.

Cito has managed to preserve his pitchers when necessary. Only Roy Halladay has thrown more than 120 pitches in a start.

Halladay and Ricky Romero are the only starters to even average more than 100 pitches per outing. There's been a clear attempt to avoid the Dustin McGowan-Shaun Marcum-Jesse Litsch injury fiasco.

Cito may look like he's watching paint dry in the dugout sometimes, but he's doing so with a vested interest in the well being of that paint.

Though when it comes to the bullpen, it looks like Gaston has been beating the paint with a sack of doorknobs; then telling the paint to lie to its teachers about where the bruises came from.

This very good article by Joseph DelGrippo provides an excellent example of one of Cito's miscues.

There's been a noticeable drop in the quality of the bullpen this season.

For starters, the Jays have a 56 percent save percentage, 27th in the majors. Coming from a team that doesn't get enough save opportunities this is waaaay too many saves going unconverted.

Scott Downs has been nursing a sore toe since Philadelphia and BJ Ryan is earning $15 million to sneer at his television.

The closer spot has been in constant flux. Jason Frasor has become the stopgap solution, but he's a roll of duct tape over the Grand Canyon-size hole of the bullpen.

Jeremy Accardo, a 30-save man from two seasons ago, has been juked back and forth from the minors. This is a baffling turn of events for a ball club screaming for a closer. Although his return to the spot would be anti-climactic now, Cito definitely misused this asset.

Personally, I don't feel like delving too far into the mystery of the bullpen. I think it would end up with my face being melted off like at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. All I know is that the Jays have lost 23 games in relief and that there's no Nazi scientist crazy enough to look further.

But I digress...

Defensively, the Jays have the best fielding percentage in the league at .989 and have only 47 errors, which is the lowest in the league. For a team that has few Golden Gloves, they definitely deserve a few more Golden Gloves.

Cito has clearly helped to create a great defensive chemistry that has survived, despite the departure of Scott Rolen and Alex Rios. Marco Scutaro and Aaron Hill are turning double plays with frightening familiarity and there's no glaring weakness.

Gaston has just given players the opportunities to play and they've delivered while in the field.

So why is this team 55-61, and how much of it is Cito's fault?

Figure it out for yourself, you lazy jerks. I just gave you the evidence, draw your own conclusions.

Now if I had to ask myself, and I am, I'd say that Cito has done everything short of turn the Jays' Gatorade into wine. The deck was so stacked against Toronto coming into the season that the Rogers Centre is on a slant.

Sure, sometimes Cito can appear to be distant and non-committal about the team, but that's how the man operates. He's so loose that he can watch Murder, She Wrote in the dugout while phoning the bullpen; AND not even miss who the killer is.

By keeping some emotional distance between himself and the team, it makes hard decisions a little easier.

It also promotes a sense of calm control in the clubhouse that some players have taken to, and others have struggled with. Cito would rather have a player hang in there too long then remove them prematurely. Sometimes, this means seeing a pitcher get knocked around, but even that is a learning experience for the knocked-around.

One of the big differences between the Jays and playoff bound teams is the personnel. When Kevin Millar is hitting clean-up and your set-up man is TBD, hopefully you've exercised all other options first; and Cito has.

Of course, I've already proclaimed my fondness for Cito on several occasions, so I don't qualify as an impartial observer.

Now Cito, I know hanging out with your grandchildren is a priority, but give them ball boy jobs or something. You've already got a bunch of kids in Toronto that refuse to do the dishes or hit a two-out single. Biological ties are overrated anyways.

We've reached the end of your regularly scheduled rant. If you need me I'll be going through the season pitch-by-pitch and finding the moment where it all went wrong.

It's a tough job, but someone has to do it.

(Don't forget to vote, the ballot is on the right of the page. This is what democracy was created for, people.)

Toronto Blue Jays: The Cito Gaston Referendum, Part One

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 21:11:36 -0400

I am an unabashed Cito Gaston fan; he can do no wrong in my eyes.

Every day I wake up hoping he has finally inked a deal for making books on tape. I would pay an insane amount of money for Cito to guide me through the pages of any literary classic.

Hello, I'm Cito Gaston and welcome to the novelization of Die Hard 2.

Chapter one. John McLane was waiting outside the airport for his wife Holly. John left his car and stepped into the airport, reminiscent to Joe Carter entering the batter's box in Game 6. Joe sent that ball flying! Yippee Kiyay Mitch Williams!

I'm listening already.

Yet, in a season that's been subpar, fans must have a nagging suspicion about Gaston's complicity. Cito's softspokeness could be mistaken for a lack of interest, and frankly he's not giving us a whole lot of reassurance.

So, is Cito Gaston the man for the job? Welcome to part one of my two part series on the very topic! It's going to be edutaining!

And at the end of it all I'll, throw in a poll to gauge your opinion; because it's all about you, you selfish bast-er, intelligent, good-looking, fans.

Let's tackle the offence first.

The Jays are averaging 4.84 runs a game, exactly the AL average. For a sub-.500 team it explains a lot of the losses. How much of that is on Cito?

Toronto is hitting .269, which isn't exactly jaw-dropping. But the Jays have seen career seasons from Marco Scutaro, Aaron Hill, and Adam Lind. They've clearly blossomed under Gaston's tutelage.

Meanwhile Vernon Wells has struggled and the remaining Blue Jays batters haven't exactly been inspiring. It's a mixed blessing that does reflect on Cito Gaston, but the same can also be said for J.P. Ricciardi who stocks Cito's cupboard.

The average age for the Blue Jays is 30.2. Aside from Hill, Wells, and Lind, all other batters have played for other teams. These outside players are past the developmental stage, they are at the "Produce now or fall forever" stage.

All Cito can do is pass his sage wisdom on to these vets. Whether they respond to it is their prerogative. The only thing Cito can do is try. His success and failure here must be taken with a grain of salt as it is one thing to manage, but a completely different thing for a player to play up to their expectations.

Still, surely Mr. Gaston should be doing more to score more runs. Well, what more would you like him to do?

On the base paths. the Jays have had 1727 (most in the AL) base stealing opportunities with only 58 swipes, which is 22 less than average. Maybe Cito should be putting a little more pressure on opposing pitchers.

What legitimate threat do the Jays actually have on the base paths though? Alex Rios was the only other real threat not named Vernon Wells; Wells and Rios have 33 of the 58 Blue Jays steals.

Also, the Jays have the second-highest fly ball rate in the major leagues at 41.8 percent. Hitting that many fly balls really handcuffs a team trying to run. You could argue that Cito knows his team well enough not to pry.

The Jays haven't exactly been putting themselves in a position to succeed either. Only 42 percent of the time have they had an advantageous lefty-righty pitcher-hitter matchup, the lowest in the AL.

Of course this could be because of the options available to Gaston. The Jays currently have only three left-handed hitters and no switch-hitters at all. He's not exactly flushed for choices.

In one run games, the Jays are only 14-21, and 5-11 when in extra innings. Those are the games when a manager really matters.

Is Cito crumbling under pressure?

Offensively, all Gaston can do is sit back and let his hitters bat or pinch hit someone. It's not exactly Cito's style to switch things up, and like I said above he doesn't have a glut of matchup options.

But when Hi-C does make a move it is always in the most necessary situations. The Jays pinch hitters are always put into the highest of pressure moments with a 3.02 average on the pinch hitting leverage index.

When 1.00 is the standard that means these Jays are thrown in there in some very high pressure situations. Either it's absolutely necessary or it's far too late.

Toronto's Pythagorean Win-Loss record (which calculates their runs scored vs. runs allowed) is 60-53. They've had their share of bad luck that needs to be accounted for.

This concludes our offensive portion of the tour. Please don't forget to tip your guide while waiting for part two.

Jingles can.

Is Cito Gaston a good manager? Do the Toronto Blue Jays need to keep him around? Will Geoff Zochodne get a life? Is Roy Halladay a cyborg? Does J.P. Ricciardi have a soul?

All these answers and more on the next edition of, "The Cito Gaston Referendum". Only on Bleacher Report, the champagne of sports punditry!

(All stats, however obscure, provided by baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.com)

Alex Rios, We Hardly Knew Ye (or Did We Know You Too Much?)

Geoff Zochodne — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 23:22:24 -0400

We are here to mourn the waiver claiming of Alexis Israel Rios as he passes on into the Great Unknown (also known as Chicago).

You played right field for the Toronto Blue Jays and though you may have accosted one or two fans more than necessary on the street, we will miss you.

Alex, your contract may have been bloated, your play inconsistent, and you may have been responsible for a record number of Blue Jays fans' divorces, but you will never be forgotten.

I remember the 2007 Home Run Derby in San Francisco. You sprang up from the depths of anonymity and peppered Bay Area fans with a hail of home runs. We applauded your ascension into Superstardom and chortled with glee that you were ours.

When you stopped hitting home runs with regularity, you started stealing bases and it was good. You became a leadoff hitter that shouldn't have been, but succeeded in spite of yourself.

Oh Alex, where did we go wrong?

You took the baseball equivalent of a mulligan this season and earned the exasperation of the Greater Toronto Area. But Alex, you were always the One. The One who had the forbidden talent.

Even when Roy Halladay was shopped and Vernon Wells turned into a pariah, we always hoped you would emerge our hero. But it was not to be.

It was supposed to be a marriage that was always chocolate and flowers. Then you started forgetting to call.

Alex, we could have worked it out. We could have gone to counseling, but instead you left dinner forever on the stove.

Our collective pot roast now lays uneaten and embittered with the glaze of chagrin between Alex Rios and his once loyal Toronto fan base.

Hopefully you will find what you are looking for in the southside of Chicago, the land of Polish sausage, Barack Obama, and bad, bad, Leroy Brown.

Chances are you will succeed in the stadium they call the Cell. Your limitless talent is now imprisoned in the other friendly confines, a stadium where a home run is as common as bratwurst.

Maybe Alex, you will reach the Promised Land they call the playoffs. I always wanted that for you.

That the Blue Jays could not provide what these plainest of Sox can is something that will always haunt my dreams.

Though J.P. Ricciardi refuses to call it a salary dump, let's call it what it is. No sane team would claim Vernon Wells and his affront to the Collective Bargaining Agreement, and Roy Halladay will be a Jay until his arm falls off or when the calendar strikes 2010.

Alex Rios became Toronto's Joan of Arc. He burst onto the scene like the hotshot French Femme-eral and won us many victories over the rest of baseball.

But when there were no more wars to fight, you turned to us and now we have forsaken you. You had to be sacrificed so that our team would be free from poverty. Instead of being burned at the stake you were put on waivers and claimed.

It is a bittersweet compromise.

If Alex Rios realizes his talent in Chicago, Blue Jays fans will sigh and go back to watching a team stuck in a rut.

Ours is a team that didn't receive a bag of balls for Rios and will leave us yearning for the Rios of 2007. The one that made baseball take notice of the lanky right fielder from north of the border.

In Rios' stead we will look to Travis Snider and our dreams of winning with him. Alex will become a footnote to a season that will hopefully be a footnote to a championship some day.

This is a salary dump that cannot remove the twinge of guilt I feel. No dumping of anything can ever remove Rios from my mind, unless it is a dump truck of stones to my cranium.

Oh, what could have been.

In the name of Cito Gaston, Joe Carter, and the holy spirit of 1992-93.

Amen.

PART II (Also known as Evil Geoff)

Do you remember that at one point Rios was rumored to be traded for Tim Lincecum?

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! WE'RE FREEEEEEEEEE! FREEEEEEEEEEE! HE'S GOOOOONNNNEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

Ahem.

Let's get this season over with.

Win Or Lose, The Toronto Blue Jays Have to Survive The Season

Geoff Zochodne — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 15:54:16 -0400

Four out of five dentists agree: The Toronto Blue Jays are safe bets for staying home this October.

Oh, and the fifth? He's been dipping into the laughing gas a little bit and was unavailable for comments that aren't toothpaste related.

So now comes the same old song and dance the Jays have orchestrated the past decade. They're toeing a fine line between teasing and misleading their fanbase, ownership, and players.

How do you properly finish a season out of contention?

There's no formula for failure, unless somewhere deep within the bowels of Rogers Centre a team of scientists are poring over test tubes and bunsen burners beside sabermetric charts.

The Jays can do two things: Win or lose; there is no try. How they do both is entirely up to them.

If the Jays put together a run sometime between now and the end of the season it could reassure fans that things are looking up for next year. And why wouldn't they be?

Roy Halladay is still around, and Ricky Romero is putting together a solid Rookie of the Year campaign. Aaron Hill has been tearing the cover off the ball, Adam Lind has become a hitting machine, and blah, blah, blah.

Those are some things to get excited about, especially blah No.3.

Here's the rub, succeeding late in the season could mask what this year actually was: Disappointing.

It could have been so much more than just a tease and the opportunities for success were present at some points. At this time it's clear that the Jays just ran out of steam this season.

A timely winning streak would strengthen the nucleus of the team. But to the people running the team, it could provide grounds for staying the course completely.

If the Jays play their way above .500 and start winning with the current squad, the front office won't be inclined to make changes. There are holes that need to be filled to build a true contender, and inaction due to late successes will insure similar results next season.

Winning now might be reason enough to stay the current course, and that has yet to bear fruit.

But if the Jays start losing, I mean lose more, it could be just as bad.

That could breed action, but the kind of action that could see the basic infrastructure of a good team torn to the ground.

Losing too much could mean some key faces being put out on the market. A front office that sees a losing team will be inclined to start a run on their better players. Payroll would be trimmed lower because no one wants to pay for losers, except if the losers come cheap already.

Roy Halladay could be shuffled out quietly in the offseason by a losing team. There'd be no need in ownership's eyes to keep a big money player on a terrible team. Unless he has an untradeable contract...the answer rhymes with burnin' smells.

Marco Scutaro would probably be allowed to walk away this offseason, taking his leadoff skills with him; like a hobo with his bindle, or a dog that helps people before he gets on the road again. Maybe tomorrow, he'll stop and settle down?

Frankly, the whole situation is tenuous and the team is teetering on the brink of the great unknown; a see-saw on a mountain top if you will.

Win too much and you mislead people into believing things are fine. Lose too much and you mislead people into believing that it's time to bring in the bulldozers.

The Jays have one of the best No.1 starters in baseball. They have Marco Scutaro, Aaron Hill, and Adam Lind becoming the Three Musketeers to Halladay's D'Artagnan. And again, they have blah, blah, and blah.

There's plenty of cause to build around this team. The Jays need to give some without giving too much opportunity for complacency.

But how? I have one suggestion.

The team could get back to .500, stay there, and make people decide from that spot which direction this team should point in.

At .500 you can't say the team is terrible, but you can't say they're perfect. The team could shuffle out the wrong players and bring in some live bodies that can play baseball.

Maybe mediocrity's the way to go here.

I guess it's depressing to actually ask for mediocrity, but is it really much of a stretch for Toronto Blue Jays fans given the last 15 years?

Like a kitten on a clothesline you've got to hang in there. Or get dry, whatever reason a cat would be on a clothesline in the first place.

Of course this could be the single stupidest conclusion ever reached by a human being. You can't ask a team to win and lose according to your whims, this isn't 1919 and I'm not Meyer Wolfsheim.

But I'm at the point where I'll take answers however they come; whether they be multiple choice, true or false, and especially essay-style.

Meh.

The Five Most Disappointing Toronto Blue Jays Seasons

Geoff Zochodne — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 11:39:35 -0400

What a downer of a title, but what a downer of a season. This year has run the gamut of emotions and it's probably safe to say it's numbed the hardiest Jays fan. So what do I do? I make my first slideshow ever one about disappointing Jays seasons. How sadistically appropriate. But pretend I'm one of your parents, "This hurts me more than it hurts you." Now finish your homework. Don't you take that tone with me young man. Hey! I work hard to put a roof over your head! YOU'RE GROUNDED. You're not allowed to read any of my stuff for a week. ...you're adopted. (Note: They are in no particular order, as that would be even more disappointing if I screwed that up.)

Begin Slideshow

Dear Jim Balsillie, Please Buy the Toronto Blue Jays

Geoff Zochodne — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 23:36:49 -0400

Before I begin hurling arguments and insults, please read this article.

"We think that we can bring costs reasonably under control and more in line with revenues."

Well Toronto Blue Jays fans, translated into Fanspeak the above statement means:

"We think we can spend less on our roster and still make enough money from TV and our new ballpark favorite the Fifty-Dollar Beer."

And that's why I'm typing this from a holding cell down at the precinct. I thought that since my team is run by crooks I should act accordingly.

Do you know how many times you have to jaywalk before you get arrested? Once, if you're already drunk and waving a handgun.

I'm kidding. I would never jaywalk.

In all seriousness, I'm at my wit's end with this franchise. In a single season I've experienced more highs and lows than a ghost that haunts a roller coaster.

Rogers Communication wants to keep its costs "reasonably under control"? The Jays are 15th in a 30 team league in payroll.

HOW MUCH MORE REASONABLE CAN YOU BE?

The Jays are already exactly average payroll-wise; by any sane person's logic spending less would be unreasonable, because that's below average.

I guess when you're dealing with a team that wants to trade the best pitcher in baseball, you're not exactly dealing with reasonable franchise though.

So maybe it's time for change.

Clearly Rogers isn't interested in having a winning baseball team. They're interested in having a baseball team, but only if it's giving them hundreds of millions dollars worth of TV revenue.

The Toronto Blue Jays were purchased in 2000 by Rogers for $137 million. The team is now worth $355 million. If I'm a corporation that has no interest in winning baseball games, I'm looking at a tidy profit upon sale (though let the record show Rogers has no intent to sell).

Enter Jim Balsillie.

Balsillie has made it no secret his desire for buying an NHL franchise and relocating it to Southern Ontario. He's got the cash and the drive, but Gary Bettman would sooner eat a hockey puck than acquiesce to Balsillie.

So Jim, how do you feel about baseball?

I mean, ask anyone around my apartment, it's pretty much the hockey of summertime. I'm sure you've seen it on TV or on one of your trendy Blackberries. Just picture hockey with no ice and it's baseball.

Balsillie offered $212.5 million to buy the Phoenix Coyotes. That's not even counting how much it would cost to relocate it to Hamilton or whatever a briefcase full of unmarked bills can get you.

Think of how much you'll save on midnight moving costs if you buy a team that's already in Southern Ontario. It's like stealing the Baltimore Colts without all the shame.

Then Mr. Balsillie, you could spend money on a floundering franchise and surround our good players with great players. Any free agent could be our free agent. You could even-dare I say it-bring playoff baseball back to Toronto.

Baseball is one of the untapped jewels of Canada. An empty SkyDome is a potential gold mine, fill those seats with people who are ready to believe again and you'll be richer than Jim Balsillie.

If you become Toronto's George Steinbrenner, Jays fans will love you forever. Platonically, of course, but you could always have "Jim Balsillie Appreciation Night" just for the hell of it.

And think of the fun you could have, Mr. Balsillie.

Your first press conference could be you drinking champagne and laughing in our faces. You could install a special Bat-phone from the owner's box to Cito Gaston. You could have your buddies throw out first pitches. You could pinch hit yourself in a meaningless situation.

The possibilities are endless.

The loss of Ted Rogers has stripped his company bare of people who actually think about winning. We need a face who can reassure us that all is well and that ownership cares.

Of course I'm sure that logistically and legally and commercially and every other business term-ially, it's unfeasible. Deep down in my Bird Blue heart I know that it's far-fetched to think Jim Balsillie would buy the Jays.

I'm uncouth, I'm stupid, I'm impatient, and I'm quick to judge.

But I'm a believer.

I believe in this franchise and this team and I know that things can be better. Things can always be better.

And it starts at the top.

The Vernon Wells Mutiny

Geoff Zochodne — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 14:49:30 -0400

It has taken me about five tries to write this article. I'm not lying or joking or trying to exaggerate. I'm at a loss for words, which still won't stop me from writing a couple pages.

The situation has become more than just a mutiny.

It's revolution, it's insurrection, it's armed rebellion. It's Luke Skywalker barrelling through the Death Star and blowing it to kingdom come.

That's just me talking about switching shampoos.

When it comes to Vernon Wells, it would take a Walt Whitman to accurately describe the situation.

Last night in Seattle, the marauding band of Jays fans booed him for every misstep he made against the Mariners. They traversed the border to take in a game and ended up representing the way Jays fans are feeling about Wells.

Boo.

BOOO.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Never has a word encapsulated emotion so fittingly.

The Roy Halladay saga has pushed Jays fans to critical mass. We can no longer tolerate subpar performances in an era where our best players are becoming expendable.

Vernon Wells has become the symbol of this newfound impatience.

You want to know what the worst part is?

The Jays need Wells, badly.

I would call the boos a cry for attention by Jays fans. We're feeling betrayed and looking for something, anything, to feel good about. So we look to Wells.

He hasn't given us much to feel better about. In our darkest hour, all we can muster is "booing." Our already taxed fanbase has reached the breaking point with the man we once thought would lead this team to the promised land.

We've seen the rise of Aaron Hill, Adam Lind, a promising rotation, and the rebirth of Marco Scutaro, but we are still waiting on Wells.

What choice do we have?

The 126 Million Dollar Man isn't going anywhere. Wells' contract has seen to that, as there's no team that would be foolish enough to accept it now. Toronto is ready to abandon one of the faces of the franchise.

But Vern, I still got your back.

I still believe that Vernon Wells has stardom twinkling above his shiny head. I'm still pinning my forlorn hopes to the dream that Wells will sparkle again.

That doesn't mean I'll stop booing. Players can't be allowed to float free of consequences, and as a fan all I can do is boo. I'll still believe that Vern will bounce back.

Maybe that's stupid. Maybe I'll be waiting forever, but I find it hard to believe that Wells has forsaken good baseball.

At 31 years old, it's a stretch to think that Wells can return to his 2003-06 form. For those who know me, I barely stretch at all. For Wells, though, I'll start taking Pilates.

I refuse to believe that someone's skill set can evaporate overnight. So let's go to the numbers.

According to Fangraphs.com, Wells is having his most disciplined season at the plate since 2005, when he hit 28 HR with 97 RBI.

This season Wells is swinging at only 24.6 percent of pitches thrown outside the strikezone. Even better is that he's swinging at 71 percent of all pitches that are thrown inside the strikezone.

Wells' contact rate with all pitches is at 83.6 percent, 0.1 percent better than in 2006, when he clocked 32 HR.

The first thing you could call Wells is unlucky. His batting average on balls in play is .274, while the rest of the league is hitting .300.

If you can blame Wells for anything, it's for trying too hard to make something happen.

His on-base percentage fuels his critics. It's never been higher than .359 and this season it's .309.

His OBP can also explain why Wells is only taking 48 percent of all pitches inside the strikezone, his lowest ever. He sees something hittable and he's swinging at it.

Wells has taken the Moneyball bible and left it in its motel room drawer. He's up there doing what was once primary among all hitters: trying to hit the ball.

Maybe that's his biggest fault, trying to do too much. Can you blame him, though? If someone handed you $126 million and told you to lead a franchise would you be satisfied with a walk?

I think the main reason that Wells has struggled is the change in philosophy the Jays have undergone. In 2006, then-hitting coach Mickey Brantley preached patience and seeing a lot of pitches.

Wells responded with his best statistical year, and the season that handed him his monster contract.

You can't create an absolute formula for every hitter. They're all different. Gene Tenace should be talking to Vernon Wells differently from how he does Adam Lind or Aaron Hill. Wells is at his best when he was seeing a lot of pitches and being relaxed in the batter's box.

To quote Diff'rent Strokes: "The world don't move to the beat of just one drum. What might be right for you may not be right for some. "

I'm not a keen baseball mind, though I may pretend to be, but sometimes you've got to put on the kids gloves and give people preferential treatment.

You can't forget about Wells because others have succeeded. Stylistically, they're all different and having Wells fail under the banner of philosophy isn't doing anyone a favor.

Cito Gaston and Co. have always said they let the hitter go up there and, as long as they follow a sound plan, they're happy. With Wells, maybe it's time to intercede and give the big man some help.

In the field, Wells is having a bad season. The one thing that sticks out is that Wells's fielding expertise has dropped off exponentially since breaking his wrist in 2008, and the shoulder injury he suffered in 2007.

The weird thing is that baserunning-wise, Wells has been faster than ever. He still has the speed that made him an excellent centerfielder.

I'm not trying to cover for him, but some of his struggles have to be due to self-preservation. Wells knows he's valuable to this organization and exerting maximum hustle on every fly ball and injuring himself will hurt everyone invested in him.

Vernon Wells isn't a stiff. He's not out there trying to earn the enmity of every Jays fan. He's just a guy trying to justify J.P. Ricciardi's faith in him.

And the Jays need Wells to succeed. When Wells is hitting and fielding well, the Jays have another dimension to them.

Wells is also a great person to have in the Toronto community. He's been the honorary commissioner of the Toronto Rookie League, a baseball league for underprivileged kids, since 2002. He's still an All-Star human being.

You can still boo, I would never tell you to stop. Hell, I'll be booing, too. Wells deserves it right now.

Just make it a constructive boo.

Beam Me Up Scotty: Downs Trekking Through Unfamiliar Territory

Geoff Zochodne — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 00:42:27 -0400

Toronto and Tampa Bay renewed their rivalry on Saturday afternoon, and it nearly killed me. It went from the Jays leading 8-0, to 9-1, to 9-5, to the score being tied at nine as Rogers Sportsnet coverage was slipping in and out on TV.

I found myself jiggling the cable wire and screaming obscenities as the game slid into extras.

It's been a recurring script between the Jays and Rays this season. The game goes into extras, Toronto loses, Tampa celebrates, and I wonder if it's too late to turn Amish and put sports behind me.

The worst part is that Scott Downs has been at the eye of the storm for Toronto's whirlwind affair with losing to the Rays.

Downs started the season cleaning up BJ Ryan's messes, then closing out games himself and doing a damn fine job. Then he stood in the batter's box against Philadelphia.

June 16, a day which will live in infamy. It was the day Scott Downs ran out a meaningless groundball against the Phillies and strained his left toe.

Since Downs' return on July 8, he's saved one game against Baltimore on July 10, and has struggled in outings against the Cleveland Indians and the bane of my existence, the Tampa Bay Rays.

Downs' ERA has gone from 1.98 in Philly to 3.06 after pitching today. Everybody's favorite alternative to BJ Ryan is creeping towards Ryan-esque territory.

The situations are the same, "Scotty, get out there and save our hides!" Yet the once unhittable Downs has been knocked around in his six outings since returning from injury.

Since returning from injury.

The phrase is lingering like the last guest at a dinner party. Downs strained his left toe, his plant foot, his foundation for throwing pitches.

The fastball has never been Downs' strong suit. He averages about 90 MPH with it, not exactly ideal for a closer, but not anything to scoff at either.

It's the curveball that does the heavy lifting for Downs. Fangraphs has Downs throwing a curve 25 percent of the time. It usually sweeps through the strike zone and leaves hitters waving at nothing. When he can't throw it for strikes he's getting in to trouble.

According to Brooks Baseball, in Downs' five outings (not including his latest appearance) after returning he's thrown 25 curveballs, getting a strike with it 42.2 percent of the time.

For his latest save in Baltimore, Downs threw his curve for a strike 75 percent of the time. In his July 24 loss against the Rays, Downs' curve only landed 42 percent of the time.

When the curveball can get strikes, Downs gets outs. If it's ineffective than trouble is sure to start brewing.

Now take this all with a grain of salt...100 percent of the time.

Part of the success behind Downs' curveball is that hitters like to chase it. It's sweet and seductive and usually can coax a swing out of suckers-er, batters.

Opposing batters are flailing at 34 percent of Downs' pitches outside the strikezone which is nine percent higher than the rest of MLB (Fangraphs strikes again). Hitters are only making contact 52 percent of the time which is ten percent better than other major league pitchers.

Downs has been knocked around a bit. It happens. Sometimes the batters have to win, or we'd all start questioning if Scott Downs is throwing imaginary pitches.

Still, the Jays really needed Downs to come through for them and he hasn't delivered. Defeat's been snatched from the jaws of victory and it stings.

That can't all be chalked up to Scott Downs, but he's going to take some heat.

If the toe is bothering Downs, you've got to have him sit out a few days. Having him lose confidence in close situations won't bode well in the long term.

If the problem is mechanics we've all got to bite the bullet and take these lumps while Downs works through it.

Let's all take a deep breath, and then remove our collective fists from our walls. Breathe deeply.

EIGHT RUNS!!!! EIGHT FREAKING RUNS!!! GAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRARRAAARRRRR!!

I'm okay, I'm okay.

This season has officially drove me insane and I'm not sure how much typing I can do in a straight jacket.