A Day Without Moss: Notes From Game One of the Patriots' Post-Randy Moss Life

It's 1:03 P.M., and a cloudy haze of depression settles over me like a hazy cloud.  There's no more putting it off; there's no more pretending it's not real.  The pregame coverage is over, and it's time to view the 2010 Patriots' first game without Randy Moss. 

There is no more unsettling feeling than when a TV play-by-play guy starts to drone about the thing you're already fretting over.

It's like your team's problems are laid bare for the world; in case you thought there was any chance people hadn't noticed, in case you hoped they might have exhausted their vocabularies yammering about The Trade for two consecutive weeks, the fellow on TV is there to remind you that, yes, everybody else thinks your guys are doomed, too.

By 1:15, when an uncomfortably effortless Ravens drive has culminated in an ugly field goal (three points, because of course the Patriots' defense is an area of concern, too) the sense of foreboding has reached Lawrence Taylor Coming off the Blind Side levels.

At 1:21, the Patriots run their first play, a pass to Deion Branch.  Incomplete.  The TV play-by-play man calls him "Moss."  Repeatedly.  Thousands of Patriots fans lose hope of finding any trace of meaning or purpose in a bleak, uncaring Universe. 

When the drive concludes in not just a three-and-out, but a "Seriously?  That's All You Got?" three-and-out, I weep like a little girl.

At 1:30, Brady completes a long pass to Aaron Hernandez, who is rapidly becoming the only thing to like about this season. 

At 1:34, the drive culminates in a touchdown after a nifty end-around by Brandon Tate, one of the supposed Moss-replacements.  Within moments, we're hearing how it might be a good thing for the Patriots' offense that Randy Moss is gone. 

This is sort of like saying the Great Depression was a good thing for the economy because it was suddenly a lot easier to make money selling apples on street corners.

At 1:49, the Ravens retake the lead.  New England is getting good pressure on the quarterback, with a couple of sacks and a Flacco fumble forced (by a Fearsome Front Four). 

They're also containing the run; Joe Flacco is just spreading the ball around and picking them apart.  The previous sentence makes me want to chug Pepto-Bismol, but it's true.

By 2:00 PM, the Patriots have punted again.  Brady moved the ball effectively for a few first downs, but he's throwing to a different receiver on every down, and sooner or later he'll find someone who can't catch the ball.

I call this the Flea Market Offense; it only works if your defense is capable of exerting downward economic pressure.  Let's all pretend the preceding paragraph made sense.

At 2:21, the Patriots force a punt after a fourth-and-inches situation created by our third successful challenge of the day.  First, I think any team should go for it on fourth-and-inches, regardless of field position.  It's inches; how often does a team fail to move the line forward at all? 

I wonder if the Ravens would have gone for that if they were running the ball better.  Secondly, while every challenge today has been a good challenge and has been upheld, it seems to me it would have all evened out, regardless.  One call would have gone against the Ravens, two against the Pats. 

Baltimore would still have a slight lead, and this game would be 15 minutes quicker.  In most cases, the importance of instant replay is vastly overrated.

About 2:30, time runs out after Flacco (for once) isn't able to get anything going, and New England decides against taking a shot with a minute left. 

If Randy Moss is still on the team, they get the ball back, score on an 80-yard bomb, and lead at halftime. 

I can say this without fear of contradiction because none of you has a time machine or access to alternate Universes.  Laugh if you will, but what really galls me is the nagging little part of my soul that believes it's true.

At 2:51, early in the second half, Brady is intercepted while trying to go long down the middle of the field.  My brain says he was going for Welker, and Brady threw numerous picks over the last few seasons-- it happens sometimes. 

My mind says "That never would have happened if he were throwing to Moss."  I might need professional help to deal with this.

At 2:54, Flacco hits Anquan Boldin with a long pass down the sideline for a score...you know, the kind Moss used to catch.  Ravens lead 17-7.  My stomach hurts, and not just because of the pasta with pepperoni and onions I just had for lunch.  Okay, mostly because of that.  But a little because my worst fears are coming true.

At 3:04, the Patriots kick a field goal, bringing it back within one score after rolling into range with relative ease.  That's supposed to make me feel better?  A couple of completions and three lousy points?  Too little, too late, guys.  If you don't know what you did wrong, I'm certainly not going to tell you.

At 3:14, with the Ravens doing just about anything they want on offense, Rob Ninkovich dives flat-out for a pick like Ozzie Smith for a grounder up the middle.  He misses (it's a four-yard completion) but I like that hustle and those instincts for the ball in the wake of his two-interception, one-sack night against Miami.  He might be my favorite Patriots defender right now.

The third quarter ends at 3:17, with the Ravens perilously close to another score.  Come home, Richard Seymour.  We'll give the draft pick back, especially since Oakland beat San Diego last week and may not be as inept as we'd hoped. 

(The drive ends in a field goal at 3:20, after Flacco, for a wonder, can't make the big play.  It's back to a two-possession game.)

I start to think about excuses in the event of defeat.  So far, I have Moss, Moss, Moss, and Moss.  Oh, and Baltimore's defense, which is always a tough nut to crack.  And Flacco being possessed by the ghost of Joe Montana.  Nothing improves a bad day like rationalization.

By 3:28, the Patriots are driving again, thanks to a bogus pass interference call (shh!) and Danny Woodhead, who is apparently some form of super-powered Hobbit.  They score it at 3:30, on a third-down pass to Deion Branch.  It's a storybook ending!  Except, you know, that we're still down three with 11 minutes to go.

At 3:36, Baltimore makes the inexplicable decision to run a quarterback sneak on third-and-short at midfield.  They don't get it, and I'm mystified. 

Their passing attack was deadly and their rushing was starting to work better.  It was certainly good for a yard.  Why trick-play the Pats on third down?  Now you risk handing the game back to them with the crowd in their corner.  I think it's potentially a big mistake.

At 3:44, with five minutes left in the game and the Patriots facing a 1st and 25, needing 15 yards to have a shot at the tying field goal, Brady makes an incredible throw to Gronkowski over the middle (one of those where the defense is a split-second from pounding them into the turf at both ends of the pass) putting the Pats solidly into field goal range. 

I'm starting to believe.  Help me, I'm starting to believe.  I don't want to get hurt again...

We reach the two-minute warning at 3:51, after a failed third-and-three forces the Pats to kick.  I think I would have gone for it on fourth down.  Are you still the ruthless, go-for-the-jugular Patriots without Moss, or aren't you?  If you are, win the game right there! 

This is but one of the many reasons why I am not an NFL coach, the other being that most NFL players are capable of crushing my bones to jelly.

Flacco gets the ball back with a tie score and less than two minutes to work.  I have a horrible feeling we're headed for a winning Ravens field goal in regulation.  We haven't stopped the Ravens short of field goal range more than a couple of times all day. 

I don't know; how can I have confidence in anything Patriots-related?  The world doesn't make sense anymore.

But Baltimore doesn't get there!  Flacco freezes with eons of time on first down, then makes a bad throw.  Rice drops a good throw on third down.  A big return by Welker puts the ball at midfield for the Patriots!

Suddenly, I'm watching Rudy or The Blind Side or...dang it, what's a football movie where the team loses its best receiver, then wins their next game on an unlikely field goal?  If there isn't one, I am totally going after the rights to Moss Was a Rolling Stone: The Danny Woodhead Story.

At 4:01, Brady takes over with 45 seconds to go.  He throws the Patented Bomb to Moss.  Tate does not catch it.  Amazingly, I'm so into the game, I did not see that coming.  A sack later, we're looking at overtime.

But Brady makes a last-second toss to Woodhead!  Woodhead scrambles out to the 45, just shy of the first!  The Patriots get one more shot... and they pass on the 62-yard field goal in order to fire a long bomb into the end zone that is picked, sticking Brady with an INT he doesn't deserve and the team with an overtime period.  Um... huh?!

I will not say Randy Moss would have caught that.  I will not say Randy Moss would have caught that.  I will not...heck with it.  Randy Moss would totally have caught that.  Or at least talked Belichick into kicking the field goal.  I am this close to my skull melting like the dude in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Overtime begins at approximately 4:12.  The Pats get the ball back at 4:15.  Hernandez drops a gift-wrapped, prototype game-changing pass at 4:16. Now there's nothing I like about this season.  Except, you know, the Hobbit dude.

At 4:22, Flacco barely misses a third-down pass that would have put the Ravens close to field goal range.  I experience cardiac arrest.  It's not so good.  This is only Week 6, remember!

At 4:31, after an offensive sequence that would cause me too much emotional pain to describe, Patriots punter Zoltan Mesko takes time off from threatening James Bond to make an incredible, booming, potentially game-saving punt, putting the Ravens back on their 20.

4:34.  Five minutes to go in overtime.  If Tom Brady blows this game, I'm making a joke about his hair.

At 4:35, Brady zips a long pass to Branch, putting the Pats in field goal range.  I can't believe the joke threat worked.

Around 4:41, at the two-minute mark of overtime, Stephen Gostkowski knocks home a field goal, giving the Patriots a 23-20 win over the team that eliminated them from last year's playoffs.

I don't know if I can do that again.  That was excruciating.  That was exhilarating.  That was... a lot like the championship runs in 2003-04.  Maybe it really is time to let go...

Alright, then.  I've decided.  I will no longer be bitter about the Patriots trading Randy Moss.  Starting tomorrow, I will go back to being bitter about the Celtics trading Chauncey Billups.

Do not get me started.