San Diego Chargers vs. Denver Broncos: Why the Bolts Lost

Forget Novak’s miss. Forget Rivers' inaccuracies. Forget the lack of pass rush, deep threat or consistent play.  Today was the worst Chargers game I have ever seen not because of what the Chargers did, but what they didn’t do.

I live in New York City now.  It’s a great place to live, but I have to tell you during football season I dread Sundays.  Everywhere you go you see beer guts draped in Jet green and the fake Italian accents of Brooklynites and Puerto Rican slang from Queensians all slurring the same declaration: "The Jets are the best football team to ever play."

God it’s annoying.

But you know where this all comes from? Their fat, ogerish, blubbering, goulish, sloth-like, egotistical, self-indulgent, maniacal head coach Rex Ryan.  Yes, the man who curses at fans, flips off fans and is offensive for fans to look at is the one that inspires hope and character in an otherwise average team.

Today the Jets won in a very tight game against the Bills. They did not play their best as their supposed “best defense to ever grace the face of this earth” gave up 24 points to a team that did not even have their best player. As a matter of fact they only won because Ryan Fitzpatrick could not hit a wide open receiver in the end zone with 30 seconds remaining.

As I sat in a bar on Bleecker street watching the final drive by the Bills, I was surrounded by these seemingly nomadic bunch of fans.  Besides it wreaking of the stench of entitlement that surrounds all Jets fans, there was something else buzzing around the tables. It was a sort of calm.

There were no fans on the edge of the seat.  No one sweating and pulling out his hair as the Bills drove.  Even as the pass sailed through the air destined for the end zone and a Bills win, people were still relaxed.

Nick Novak is lining up for a career long 54-yard field goal in overtime.  I am at home now, standing roughly three feet from my 42” TV.  Breathing heavily in between cheering on Novak as if my voice had the strength to carry 3000 miles.  I am sweating and pacing and an all around wreck. 

As the ball is snapped I’m hunched over with my hands on my knees with my nose less than six inches from my screen focusing all my attention on the couple dozen brown LED pixels that from a more distant position come together to make a football.

I follow it up, up, up and then down, down, down and finally…no good.  A few minutes later Tebowism swept through Qualcomm and as the sun set on the concrete cauldron in Mission Valley, so did it on the Chargers' season.

By the end of it all I was not so concerned about the fact that the Chargers would not make the playoffs.  After all, it was probably a long shot to begin with and if they are ever going to get to that next level they need change and a season like this is a catalyst for that.

What concerned me was my reaction to a late game situation as opposed to that of the Jets' fans.  Why then was I the nervous wreck when a kicker who had had the leg all day in perfect kicking conditions to make the distance controlled the fat of the game, as opposed to Jets fans that were at the mercy of another offense with a defense that has had trouble closing out games?

It all comes down to one thing: confidence.

Jets fans have it because of the way their team plays. Charger fans don’t for the exact same reason.

I am not a fan of Ryan’s loud mouth and in your face attitude.  I prefer Norv Turner’s disposition during games.  But the confidence he, the players and the franchise shows is a joke.

This was a must win game against a divisional rival.  Could you imagine Ryan electing to take it into overtime against the Patriots at home with a minute and a half to go? Could you imagine Ryan calling three straight run plays when it is already a long field goal? Could you imagine Ryan allowing his team to lose like that?

You may say, “well he did last week against Tebow!” No he didn’t and you could not be further from the truth.  What he did was he looked Tebow square in the eyes and said “beat us if you can.”

What Turner did was hand the ball to him on a silver platter.

This was a terrible game to watch aesthetically.  Terrible football all around.  But if you are a Charger fan it was insulting.  It was not even football at all.  The lack of ambition in this team or any kind of heart, from the President all the way down, was a slap in the face to every person who had paid to see the game live and those across the country who put aside time to tune in.

When you watch a professional sports event, there is an unwritten and inherent contract that both sides enter into.  It states more or less:

“I (your name) do promise that I will invest x amount of time to the cosigning franchise of the event in which I am about to partake.  In return, said franchise is to provide me with a performance that goes beyond the call of normality and makes every humanly possible attempt to return a positive result on x amount of time.  If either party does not hold up their end of the agreement, they may opt out for no penalty.”

The Chargers did not hold up their end of the deal, not today, not last week, not this season.  So I am opting out of the contract. I am not a band wagoner who will jump back on should they make a miracle run to the playoffs.  I will re-sign the deal once they prove to me that they deserve my time.  That is not done by winning.  It is done by playing with some heart.