There is, however, a lot of great football that gets played in January, and with enough beer and a little forced forgetfulness, there’s still some enjoyment to be culled from watching it. I caught most of this year’s postseason action, and I gotta say, I dug it. There were some solid football games played, and aside from Wild Card Weekend’s Rookie Bowl, I cared about the outcome of every contest. I’ll get to this weekend’s festivities in a moment, but first I’d like to ponder a bit on a few of my favorite moments from three of the past four weeks. In reverse order:



The Falcons Get Blown Out. The Playoffs do a pretty good job of separating the wheat from the chaff. Most years, at least one quarterback will outright embarrass himself during the first two weeks. Matt Cassel took the honors last year, and Tony Romo the year before. This year it was Matt Ryan. Matt Ryan and Joe Flacco were drafted 15 picks apart in 2008. In four years as starters, they’ve thrown roughly the same number of passes with roughly the same completion percentage, roughly the same number of touchdowns, and exactly the same number of picks. Visit Falcons fan forums, and you’ll see discussions of whether or not Ryan should already be considered elite. Visit Ravens fan forums, and you’ll see discussions of whether or not Flacco should keep his job after his contract is up.



Imagine that you’re an avid football fan who got hit in the head with a rock and are presently suffering from selective amnesia, with the primary symptom being that you don’t remember a thing about the past four seasons. If I told you one of those guys won at least one playoff game every year of his young career, and the other is 0-3 and has yet to throw for over 200 yards in a postseason contest, based on the tenor of the two aforementioned respective discussions, would you suspect the pissed off fan base was the one with the perennial winner? Probably not, right? I feel a little bad seeing Atlanta lose because Tony Gonzalez was so good for so many years here, and I’m afraid he’ll play until he’s as old as Moses if he doesn’t get a ring soon. Still, I made a lot of predictions about Ryan not being all that great right before the 2008 draft, and seeing him get shut out makes me look like a little less of a complete idiot (note that I make fewer and fewer draft predictions every year…. I was so far off base with Ryan and with Donald Brown the following year that now I don’t even try).



Billy Cundiff Channels His Inner Big Gus. For those of you that don’t remember much of the movie Leatherheads, Big Gus was Keith Loneker’s lineman sized character who played kicker because that’s what his high school coach/math teacher thought he’d be best at. His first attempt sends the ball crashing through the drumline of the team’s marching band. His nonchalant response: “I hooked it.” Watching Cundiff’s kick put the nail in the Ravens’ coffin, Big Gus was my first thought. My second thought was pure empathy. Chiefs fans know exactly how Ravens fans do right now. Sorry, Maryland. It’s an awful way to go out.

A 75% Shot At A Great Storyline. I don’t go in much for sensationalist storylines, but if I did, this would have been a hell of a great month. Going into the Conference Championships, the four potential matchups for the Super Bowl included two recent Super Bowl rematches and a brother vs. brother head coaching dual. The only tough sell (as Super Bowls go, which is to say still not a very tough sell) would have been New England vs. San Francisco, which still would have been marketable on account of the fact that it would have been a good game. That’s what the Super Bowl is still about, right? The game? No, no. I’m sorry. It’s about Madonna. Please Lord, no nipples this year, okay?

Tom Brady Takes Down Tim Tebow. I don’t have any strong affectation for Tom Brady. He’s easily in the discussion for best ever at the toughest position in sports. If he played for my team, I’m sure he’d be one of my all time favorites. He doesn’t, however, and he’s been a bit of a thorn in the Chiefs’ side (technically speaking, he’s 4-1 against the Chiefs, but I don’t feel he deserves anywhere close to full credit for Pollardgate 2008). Still, he’s been good to a few of my fantasy teams over the years, and the fact that I’ve never once anticipated the Chiefs beating him has helped mitigate the heartache of it having only happened once. Outspoken is the word that best describes my feelings toward Tim Tebow. Ergo, given that I bear no malice toward the guy, I’m happy it was him that got the job done. Thanks, Tom.

Tim Tebow Takes Down Ben Roethlisberger. Yes, you’re reading that correctly. In retrospect, my favorite moment of the 2011/12 NFL Playoffs thus far is not Tim Tebow losing, but rather Tim Tebow winning. That’s not an endorsement of the guy or a reversal of any of my prior statements about him. It’s just the result of a subtle tug from my moral compass. While I still hold low regard for the overzealous quarterback who knows little about quarterbacking and seemingly less about zeal, at the end of the day, Tim Tebow isn’t a bad guy. Ben Roethlisberger is. Before last year’s Super Bowl, The Onion SportsDome ran an article titled “Ben Roethlisberger One Win Away From Being A Good Person”, which outlined how a 12-4 season followed by two postseason wins had helped exonerate Big Ben in the eyes of the public of his wrongdoing. ESPN euphemised his offenses by reducing his (alleged) crime to sexual assault. It wasn’t sexual assault. It was rape. Twice.

I’m not one who believes an athlete’s job carries with it some greater responsibility for moralistic behavior. It doesn’t. An athlete’s job isn’t to be a nice guy. If it was, Shawon Dunston would be in the Baseball Hall Of Fame and Ty Cobb would have died penniless at age 23. Furthermore, I don’t believe past transgressions, particularly ones which are never tried in a court of law, should affect an athlete’s future employment. I love dogs, but I don’t let that color my opinion of whether or not Michael Vick should be in the NFL. His debt to society ended when he was released from prison. By that measure, I don’t think Roethlisberger’s actions should keep him off the field either.

That doesn’t mean I want him to win, however. If the Cosmos’s only means of karmic retribution against Ben is to shame him every postseason, so be it. It isn’t enough, but life is seldom fair. I have a friend who is a Pittsburgh native and hasn’t missed a game since the Steel Curtain era. For the first time in his life, he’s conflicted about his allegiance. It’s hard to root for a team captained by such a complete bastard. Thus, as much as I dislike Tebow, I cannot picture a situation wherein, faced with the decision to root for him or root for Roethlisberger, I would ever not pick Tebow.

Get On With It. In the past three years, I’ve waxed poetic more than once about the New York Giants. Their model for building is superb: a #1 overall pick at QB surrounded by mostly homegrown talent, with fierce blocking, fierce tackling, and a seemingly endless supply of top shelf pass rushers. I’m a big fan of their right tackle, Kareem McKenzie, who I earnestly believe is the best run blocking tackle of the past decade. If they win, I won’t be disappointed.

Having said that, I’ll be rooting against them this Sunday. Wes Welker and Brian Waters deserve rings, and neither of them have a whole lot longer to get them. Welker’s level of play hasn’t declined yet, but facts are facts–he’s 30 years old, and receivers in their 30s age like bread, not wine. Waters is only two years removed from his best season, and while he’s still rightfully making Pro Bowls, everyone knows he’s approaching the blue hour.

Welker and Waters have similar stories. Both were multiple position iron man players in college–Welker as a receiver, defensive back, kick returner, kicker, and punter, and Waters as a tight end and defensive end. Both went undrafted and originally signed with teams oblivious to their enormous potential. Both worked their asses off to get to where they are now, and you’d be hard pressed to find anyone with an unkind word about whom they are as men. I stated above that athletes bear no responsibility to be men of great character. That’s absolutely true, but it’s still better when they are.

Mind you, if the Pats win, it’s not all sunshine and roses. Welker, Waters, and a bevy of other deserving players get a ring, but it also bears the unfortunate consequence of doing the same for Chad Ochenta y Cinco. It’s a necessary evil, made more palatable by the fact that he’ll get it with a team that seldom saw it fit to look his way more than once or twice a game. That’s the sort of luxury I’d like the Chiefs to have–to be able to view a 10,000 yard receiver as expendable. That’s the sort of luxury reserved for teams that free agents actually want to sign with (here’s a hint: they’re the ones with the really good quarterbacks).

Yeah, that’s right. I’m back to bitching about Matt Cassel. I guess that means it’s a good time to stop.

I’m not void of reservations, however. In three games as head coach for the Kansas City Chiefs, Romeo Crennel’s offense averaged 13 points a game. That was par for the course for the 2011 Chiefs, who averaged 13.3 points a game during Todd Haley’s tenure. Those numbers are unacceptable. Wanna win games? You need to consistently score double that figure.

The flip side of that equation is that your defense needs to hold the opponent under 20 points a game. At 21.2 (good for 12th place), the Chiefs came dangerously close. That number, however, factors in the first two weeks of September. The Chiefs didn’t even aim to be competitive those two weeks. I’m usually not a fan of dropping a team’s worst showing when evaluating their performance, but those two games were in no way a reflection of the roster. Factor those two out, and the figure drops to 17.8 (that would slot them at 5th place). Factor out the other eleven games during which Romeo wasn’t in charge, and it drops all the way to 11.0 (1st by a considerable margin).

Just to clear things up, I’m not asserting that I believe Romeo can maintain 11.0 points allowed per game. For starters, he can’t play Tim Tebow every third week. Given the talent he has, however, 17.8 might not be unrealistic. With a healthy Eric Berry and a more favorable schedule, this has the potential to be a top five defense.

Therein is why it was paramount that Crennel be the guy. I don’t buy the defense-wins-championships mantra as a rule of thumb, but given Scott Pioli’s seeming commitment to Matt Cassel, I’d rather see the team hedge its bets with a proven winner in the hopes that his linebackers can drag a lame quarterback across the finish line than start over altogether with a new regime on both sides of the ball.

Okay, that wasn’t much of a game review, but there wasn’t much of a game to review anyway. Romeo got his gig. Kyle Orton got his vindication (insofar as a quarterback can be vindicated after only gaining 180 yards). Dexter McCluster got utilized correctly for a change. Justin Houston and Wallace Gilberry got their hands on the quarterback. It was probably the best time I’ve ever had watching paint dry. I would have rather watched the Broncos get crushed, but on the other hand, maybe it’s better this way. There will be zero discussion over the offseason regarding the viability of Orton as a permanent fixture.

In the meantime, I’ve picked my pony for the remainder of the playoffs, and that pony is the New England Patriots. Why? First and foremost, I want to see Brian Waters and Wes Welker retire with rings. They deserve that honor both on the merits of their play and the merits of their personas. Second, with Pittsburgh out of contention, there isn’t another team in the AFC that would be even remotely competitive with the Packers or Saints. Finally, it will do my heart good to see Tim Tebow lose again, and to see the almost guaranteed subsequent John Elway meltdown. I like watching the Denver Broncos implode, and if two of my favorite players not wearing red and gold can help bring that about, I’m totally cool with that.

I remember a fair amount of minutia from many Chiefs games of the past decade, but I only have vivid visual recollections of a few. I wish I only remembered the wins, but I don’t. While I, like you, would love to erase the memory of the Vermeil era Colts Wild Card game, the Damon Huard/Brandon Carr shutout by the Panthers, and the 2003 loss to the Bengals that shattered the Chiefs’ undefeated record as well as Mike Maslowski’s knee, the one I’d least want to relive was the 2002/’03 Week 17 Monsoon Bowl scoreless outing against the Raiders.

This week was a lot like that week–a late season loss to a division opponent starting a quarterback I wish they didn’t have, ultimately leading to postseason elimination. Still, in a division stricken by mediocrity from top to bottom, the Chiefs still hold significant stock as a spoiler. At this point, I’m doing something I haven’t done since Bo Jackson wore pads and cleats: I’m rooting for the Raiders. It’s a terrible, awful feeling, but I’m prepared to justify my position with the following six points:

I don’t hate Carson Palmer. He’s a good/borderline great player who got a raw deal when he was drafted to one of the most poorly managed teams in professional sports. He hasn’t been in the division long enough for my opinion of him to have changed. Quite frankly, after the whole Rich Gannon debacle 11 years ago, I just haven’t developed the same ire toward an Oakland quarterback that I nearly automatically do toward a Denver quarterback (it helps that they haven’t bothered trying to use anyone good in the interim).

I don’t like Tim Tebow. “And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others…. But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” Matthew 6:5-6.

I like John Elway even less. This cartoonish charade Elway has been forced to put on, praising the accomplishments of a quarterback who, in essence, is a novelty in the vein of Kordell Stewart, is going to come to an ugly head sooner or later. I vote for sooner. At some point Elway will have to choose to protect the future of the Broncos franchise. En route, he’s going to piss off a whole bunch of Coloradans that don’t understand football well enough to grasp that a team cannot be successful by running the option for three quarters and hoping the defense can hold the opponent to 10 or less. Everyone loves a quality train wreck, and this one looks like it’s gonna deliver.

3rd place is better than 4th. Most years this actually isn’t the case. 3rd place teams seldom make the playoffs, but the following season they draft lower and play (theoretically) tougher competition. Next season is an exception. The Bengals, despite ranking 3rd, are likely playoff bound, which would actually lend credence to the whole tougher competition thing. The Chiefs play the entire AFC North next season anyway, however, so it’s a moot point. Thus (assuming this weekend’s games play out as I expect them to), the question is this: do the Chiefs want to play the Colts and Bills next season, or the Jaguars and Dolphins? Call me crazy, but I’ll take the two teams with no head coach, major quarterback issues, and impending voids in their pass rush.

I want Romeo Crennel to be successful. I’m making no secrets about the fact that he’s my personal top pick for head coach next season. I like his demeanor, and I like the fact that Kansas City’s defense is no longer a perennial pushover. The Green Bay win alone gives him a decent shot at coaching somewhere next season. If not here, that somewhere could be with the Jaguars or Dolphins. See above, then review recent history against ex-Chiefs coordinators. Don’t forget to take into account the guy calling in offensive plays for the Raiders.

Kyle Orton too. Unlike Crennel, Orton isn’t a long term solution. He’s not even all that great of a short term solution. He is, however, a real NFL quarterback. If you doubt that, take a look back at the perfectly executed lookoff on the Terrance Copper completion. That, to me, is a requisite skill. When Matt Cassel develops that skill, I’ll call him a real quarterback too. I’ll spare a rehash of the revenge storyline, but if a win helps Orton exorcise a few demons, I support that. Let him embarrass Von Miller the way Derrick Johnson embarrassed him at Mile High two years ago.

On that note, I wish you all a Happy New Year. Don’t drink anything I wouldn’t drink (cheap wine, cheap tequila, anything that comes in a plastic bottle, and any beer labeled Light or Lite). I personally will be welcoming 2012 by launching a barrage of fireworks of dubious legality in my county whilst blasting “Don’t Speak (I Came To Make A Bang)” by The Eagles Of Death Metal through a stereotypically 1980s boombox. Please send bail money to my father’s PayPal account.

What, then, is Rodgers doing that’s special enough to attract the attention of two signal callers with Hall Of Fame numbers? Easy. He’s burying the competition (current and historical) in passer rating. How exactly is he posting those unearthly numbers? The answer to that is equally easy. He’s throwing a lot of touchdowns and not very many interceptions. He’s throwing so many touchdowns, in fact, that he has an outside chance of breaking Brady’s record setting 50 TDs in a single season. He’s also establishing a foothold by which to chip away at some very key career records. At present, he holds the league record for career passer rating. Next season he’ll threaten Steve Young’s four consecutive seasons of 100.0+ passer rating. If he holds pace, he can fairly set his eyes on his predecessor’s career touchdown mark.

Thus far, however, he’s 0-1 against the Kansas City Chiefs. I’m okay with that. The Chiefs haven’t fared well in recent years against other top flight QBs. It’s nice to see them win one by sheer dominance instead of chance and opportunism. If one was to try to identify the source of that dominance, a few obvious names come to mind. Derrick Johnson. Tamba Hali. Justin Houston. Romeo Crennel.

My pick? Kyle Orton.

Nothing about Kyle Orton is special. He’s a middle of the road QB with a middle of the road arm, middle of the road vision, and middle of the road field presence. His place in the lineage of post-Trent Green Kansas City starting quarterbacks, however, is unique: he’s the first one that has any business starting a game in the National Football League.

That’s not meant to take anything away from the performances of DJ, Hali, Houston, and a whole slew of their teammates. Without solid play from several Chiefs defenders, the Packers would have scored nearly double what they did. The flip side of that? Put them on the field for 32 minutes instead of 24, and double probably becomes a conservative figure. That offense is designed to light teams up for 30-40 points. What Orton accomplished by spreading the field and consistently moving the ball was to effectively deny them the opportunity to develop rhythm.

What does this mean moving forward? First and foremost, it may mean that I owe Bill Muir a box of Omaha Steaks. It raises major questions about the distribution of playcalling responsibility for at least the prior 13 games, and possibly further back than that. Perhaps it even offers some insight as to why Charlie Weis was in such a hurry to leave (in light of recent events, his geo-familial explanation doesn’t hold much water). I look at Muir’s lack of success elsewhere in his career (he’s a double threat, having been equally bad as a defensive coordinator in Indianapolis two decades ago–a veritable iron man of coaching fail) and assume the bulk of the responsibility for the revitalization of the offense falls on the shoulders of Orton and QB coach Jim Zorn, but that could be way off base.

Second, it may mean that Scott Pioli will have a revelation and pull his head out of his ass regarding his misplaced loyalty to Matt Cassel. I won’t spend too much time pontificating on the inner workings of the Chiefs’ front office, but one thing seems abundantly clear: neither Todd Haley nor Charlie Weis nor Chan Gailey wanted Cassel. The common thread between those three is that they’ve all coached a Super Bowl offense. Pioli hasn’t; ergo, maybe he should defer to their collective judgment. I never like to see an athlete’s career altered by an injury, but Cassel’s case is a bit different. He’ll return to playing shape easily enough. All the injury has done is shine a spotlight on how bad of a job he was doing.

Exactly how bad of a job was Cassel doing? Well…. A few weeks ago, there was legitimate, contentious debate among Chiefs fans as to which quarterback was better: Matt Cassel or Tyler Palko. These discussions were only slightly less offensive to the senses than the similar arguments that took place in 2009 contrasting Cassel and that other Tyler guy (I, for one, enjoyed watching Thigpen play, but he was a gimmick player whose modest success was the direct result of working with a coordinator that knows a thing or two about designing a playbook around a gimmick player). Pioli’s loyalty to Cassel may appear to have been blind, but Pioli himself is not blind, and I think he’s astute enough to see that it’s better to admit a mistake and attempt to right the ship than continue to keep trying the same thing again and again, anticipating a different outcome. If he isn’t, well…. he’ll probably find himself out of a job. Maybe by then Haley will be gainfully employed and willing to offer his old pal a referral.

Third, if the Chiefs win either of their remaining games, Romeo Crennel’s title should be stripped of the “interim” qualifier. This is particularly true if the team takes down the Broncos on their own turf in Week 17 as they did under Haley in 2009. If Crennel goes down as the guy that crushed both Aaron Rodgers and Tim Tebow, make no mistake–he’ll be a head coach somewhere in 2012. I’d rather that somewhere be here than elsewhere. The players respond to him, the fans respect him, and I’ll hazard a guess that those five Super Bowl rings he earned are indicative of a wealth of football knowledge that Kansas Citians would like their team to be able to tap into.

Besides, if he goes elsewhere, consider where elsewhere is likely to be: Miami or Indianapolis. Teams that could very likely end up on next year’s schedule. Kansas City’s recent luck against jilted ex-coordinators? Not so great. Let’s take a page from the Mel Brooks playbook and head that one off at the pass, and maybe in the process we’ll find out if RAC has room in that trophy case of his for ring number six.

I delved deep into my parents basement, past broken garden gnomes and leather gimp suits, until I found a small canopy lined with a thick layer of dust and dead bugs. I swept it off, and there it was just as I left it…. The Time-inator! I sucked at naming things then.

The time machine was crudely fashioned from a SEGA Nomad, an old UHF TV receiver, the electronic brain of a Furby, and a mostly broken alarm clock stapled to a Chiefs helmet with Christmas light strings spliced in as the wiring between them, all to be powered by a calculator’s solar cell. Some macaroni art was also hot glued to the blank spots, but those were for decoration… well mostly. I initially planned on them being an emergency food ration as well, in case I traveled to a time when food sucked.

I pulled out the napkin that I drew the schematics on and immediately realized my problem. The SEGA Nomad just wasn’t powerful enough to get the job done. If I replaced that hunk of junk with my old Droid phone, it would be a piece of cake to get this thing working.

I cleaned everything up with rubbing alcohol and an air duster before reconnecting the pieces together and adding my stupid old phone with its broken touch screen. As I tightened the final bolt, a flash of light appeared before my eyes.

It was me! Only a more on-fire me. Yes, this guy, who looked incredulously like me was totally on fire. I wasn’t on fire at the time, but he was. So, maybe it wasn’t me. The me I know wasn’t on fire last I saw him.

I helped put him out with my least good and most stained quilt. I waited for the screams to subside before I tried speaking to him / me / it.

Me: Who are you?

Stranger: Gah! You musn’t know my name! It could disrupt the Space-Time Continuum!

Me: How would me knowing something mess up all of existence?

Stranger: Um…. I don’t know. I thought it sounded good at the time though. Good enough I put it in the owner’s manual whenever I built a FUCKING TIME MACHINE!!!

Me: Point taken.

Stranger: Ah, so there it is! That’s your time machine.

Me: You betcha… So, Dave, how’d you get the time machine to work?

Stranger: First, you have to strap on the helmet, then you set yourself on fire and run at least 8.8 mph towards a wall.

Me: Aha! You answered to Dave, me!

Stranger: D’uh…. that’s because I’m a different Dave. Dave, um…

Totally Not Me Guy’s eyes darted around before stopping on my shoddy pile of predominately empty late 80s cassette tape cases.

Stranger: Dave Diamond!

Me: Riiiiiigggghhttt…. I thought I wasn’t supposed to know know your name?

Dave Diamond: Oh, shit, you’re right. Why don’t you just call me Dude Man?

Me: Dude Man?

Dude Man: [Nodding] Dude Man, dude.

Me: Dude Man Dude?

Dude Man Dude: No, just Dude Man.

Me: Look, whatever, Dude, you’ve been to the future, you’ve got to tell me…

Dude: [Interrupting] Man.

Me: W-What?

Man: Dude Maaaaannnn.

Me: Oh, for the love of… did you travel through time or what?

A sobering look shot across Dude Man’s face. His eyes sternly cast down on my time amalgamation. He placed both hands firmly on it and picked it up off the table.

Dude Man: It must be… DESTROYED!

Me: What? Why?

Dude Man: You ever see the movie Butterfly Effect?

Me: I dunno. Part of it. It was on HBO and I caught the middle. I thought it had a kind of cool premise, but I just couldn’t take Kelso seriously.

Dude Man: Anyways, look. Jumping ahead in time changed things.

Me: How so?

Dude Man: The first time I went forward in time, I watched the Chiefs hire Romeo Crennel, cut Matt Cassel, re-sign Kyle Orton, and drafted Brandon Weeden in the 4th round of the draft.

Me: The Oklahoma State guy?

Dude Man: Yeah, he’s supposed to compete with Stanzi for the role of primary backup.

Me: Isn’t he 30 or something?

Dude Man: He’s actually a month younger than you.

Me: 28? Why would you even bother?

Dude Man: Is it worse than signing a veteran free agent that’s the same age?

Me: That’s… a really good point actually.

Dude Man: Right. I mean, it wasn’t the perfect scenario, but it wasn’t too bad. After I was done, I thought I’d go back, see if there was anything I missed…. only….

Me: Only what?

Dude Man: Only everything had changed. It’s like I wasn’t in the same place at all!

Me: No way!

Dude Man: And that’s when… Anyways, do you have anything to eat? I’m famished.

I watched as Dude Man horfed down half of a package of ham without bothering to make a sandwich out of it and washed it down by chugging some milk straight from the carton. Any doubt that this was my future self was erased.

Me: Come on, tell me more.

Dude Man: Alright, I’m getting to it. [Finishing off the gallon.]

Me: Mom was right, I am a procrastinator.

Dude Man: Shut up… Geez. Anyway, I get there and everything is different. Pioli instead decides he wants to hire the next big thing, find them before anyone else can, so he digs deep. He ends up hiring Pat Fitzgerald from Northwestern.

Me: Who?

Dude Man: Exactly. He’s only 37, used to play linebacker at Northwestern, but he did take them from being a Big Ten punchline to 5 consecutive bowl eligible seasons. They’re right on the verge of being a Big 20 powerhouse.

Me: No they aren’t… Wait? Big 20?

Dude Man: Oh, right, past… Sorry.

Me: This doesn’t sound right.

Dude Man: I know. I thought so too. So, I traveled through time again, only this time I hit a fly before I hit the wall, so when I arrived I was the fly instead, right next to my own drooling, helmet wearing body!

Me: Weird.

Dude Man: Tell me about it. I was a fly. We were at 1 Arrowhead Drive just as they were interviewing candidates, so I buzzed into Scott’s office.

Me: You were a fly on the wall during the interview process?

Dude Man: Heh… I never thought of it like that. That’s kinda funny. Anyway, Frank Gansz walks in and…

Me: Jr.?

Dude Man: Sr. I think.

Me: What the fuck? He’s been dead for over two years!

Dude Man: Oh, maybe it was Jr. then. Anyway, Frank Gansz Jr. shuffles over to Pioli’s desk and starts begging him for the job. He says he doesn’t even want to get paid. Pioli responds that Gansz would have to pay him for the job.

Me: Ha! Good one, Scott!

Dude Man: Gansz then proceeds to empty the contents of his wallet out on the table; $17, a paper clip, and a car wash token. Clark and Scott are stunned, but they don’t bite. Instead, Clark opts to be the ultimate cheap ass and not hire anyone at all!

Me: Wait…. then who’s the coach?

Dude Man: He fires everyone, including most of the support staff and instead lets the players coach themselves. He called it a new era in social engineering.

Me: He let the inmates run the asylum?

Dude Man: Oh yeah, it was chaos. It didn’t take three days before the place was smoldering ruins. That’s when I used a candy bar to lure my body to the fire so I could try to travel through time and get my body back in the process.

Me: How did you lift the candy bar?

Dude Man: Science.

Me: Oh, okay.

Dude Man: So, I’m back in my old body in a new time and space, when — OH, I remember why I thought it was Frank Gansz Sr.

Me: Okay…

Dude Man: Scott Pioli dug up Frank Gansz Sr.’s body and propped up his body at the podium to play the role of head coach.

Me: Why would he do that? I mean Gansz was a good special teams coach, but he kinda sucked as a – WAIT A MINUTE! He dug up a body to be his coach?! That’s fucked.

Dude Man: Yep. Just let everyone think he was alive.

Me: He pulled a Weekend At Bernie’s with his coach?

Dude Man: For reals, yo.

Me: That’s just sick. I’ve lost a whole slew of respect for future Bizarro world Scott Pioli.

Dude Man: Me too, I think. It wasn’t long at all before this big manly clean cut dude came up and offered to just take the job.

Me: Really?

Dude Man: Yeah, he was some Eastern European body builder guy. Anyways, the guy works all hours of the night, does extra work, he was a machine.

Me: Wow, that sounds pretty good.

Dude Man: No, literally, this guy was a machine.

Me: Huh?

Dude Man: He was a robot assassin sent back from the future into the past to kill the savior of humanity who led an uprising against their machine masters in their future.

Me: So why did he want to be the Chiefs coach?

Dude Man: Apparently he didn’t know the guy’s name, but the messiah was the next Chiefs starting QB before the Robot Revolt.

Me: Wow, that sounds crazy. Are you they didn’t mean Tim Tebow out in Denver?

Dude Man: No, I am not. Either way, they apparently used your time travel device, OUR time travel device to travel back in time. You should set this thing on fire and piss on the ashes for good measure.

Dude Man handed me my helmet. I looked at my creation with the same odd mixture of regret and disappointment that my parents look at me with. It had so much potential to change the world, but therein lies the problem. It was too powerful, and with great power comes great responsibility, and screw responsibility.

Me: Alright, but how will you get back to your time?

Dude Man: Duh, I have my own helmet.

Me: No, really, I’m not even sure your reality exists any more. How’s the continuity work in all of this?

Dude Man: Oh crap! You’re probably right. What could I do in this timeline with no legitimate paperwork or identification? I’ve always wanted to become a drifter!

Me: ….

Dude Man: Just remember that humanity is counting you to do the right thing.

Me: So, do you think the Chiefs are going to hire Romeo Crennel long-term then?

Dude Man: Fuck if I know. I’m not a fortune teller. So long.

The stranger for no reason left through the window when there was a perfectly good unlocked door 5 feet away and scurried off into the dreary mists. The dumbass didn’t even wear a coat. He’ll probably freeze to death. Merry Christmas! Go Chiefs!

I intentionally used the word “gave” because I can’t recall a single instance where I thought the Chiefs’ offense played well enough for four consecutive quarters to merit a win. Even Trent Dilfer’s Super Bowl Ravens squad that anchors the ever triter “defense wins championships” mantra topped 30 points about once a month. The 2011 Chiefs haven’t done it yet. Who do we blame for that? In the wake of head coach Todd Haley’s dismissal Monday morning, it’s easy to focus much of it in his direction.

Some of that is deserved. Haley allowed Palko, who should not even be on an NFL roster, to start four games. Haley permitted Bill Muir to continually put the rock in the clearly incapable hands of Thomas Jones. Haley permitted Bill Muir to call plays in the first place. Haley did not, however, have full autonomy over the roster. I think it’s more or less a foregone conclusion that Matt Cassel is/was Scott Pioli’s project, not Haley’s, but Cassel is/was not the only mistake on the roster. Only Pioli could have executed the release of Jared Gaither and Keary Colbert. Furthermore, to that end, only Pioli could have signed off on the release of Brian Waters. Haley may have fully supported and perhaps even initiated all three of those transactions, but GMs have the capacity to tell their coaches no.

Thus, instead of asking “who do we blame?”, maybe the better question is “who don’t we blame?”. Haley, Pioli, Muir, Cassel, and Palko all share some degree of responsibility, though I think I’ve psychologically somewhat exonerated Cassel and Palko on the grounds that I earnestly believe both tried to the best of their ability. The coaches and GM are ultimately responsible for the product on the field, and trotting out players who simply cannot play has to fall back on them. All of them. In the words of Stanley Kubrick, it’s a huge shit sandwich, and they’re all gonna have to take a bite.

Todd’s already taken his. While it was well deserved, in the long run I don’t bear any malice toward him. He was shackled to a quarterback he didn’t want, but he tried to make the best of a bad situation. At the end of the day, a good coach can’t outcoach a mediocre quarterback, just as a good quarterback can’t out-quarterback a mediocre coach. There was no realistic chance of Haley overcoming that substantial an impediment. He did, however, manage to break through the seemingly thick skulls of a couple of his most naturally gifted players. If the Chiefs are successful going forward, it will be in no small part due to the transformation Haley exacted in Derrick Johnson and Dwayne Bowe.

What makes me okay with the decision to part ways with Haley, however, is the concession of the entire length of the field in penalties. It was painful enough watching Romeo Crennel’s defense once again be run over roughshod due to an untenable discrepancy in time of possession (what the hell can you fairly expect when you strand a defense on the field for 38 minutes?). Watching the Jets essentially be giftwrapped an escorted trip to the endzone, however, was downright unbearable. The fact that Haley was directly responsible for 15 yards of that himself on an unsportsmanlike conduct call is borderline inexcusable. I won’t go so far as to suggest that Haley’s actions were a means to assuring his release, but a head coach simply has to have the wherewithal to know that when his team is already going to great lengths to put themselves in a bad position, he absolutely cannot do anything that adds to the problem. That’s basic leadership. Haley did not lead.

What happens next is a big part of why I’m not a big fan of late season coaching changes. Romeo Crennel has three games to prove his mettle with a roster stripped of its best players and void of any significant talent at the most important position. It’s unlikely that he’ll be able to assert his worth as a potential championship caliber head coach (I don’t know if he is or not, but I certainly don’t think it’s out of the question). If he has the bug to be a head coach again, but isn’t considered a serious candidate by Pioli and owner Clark Hunt, the Chiefs lose the best defensive coordinator in two decades, and probably the only proven commodity they’ve still got. They can’t afford that. Take away Crennel and leave Cassel in place, and this franchise can rationally expect a decade akin to the one the Oakland Raiders just concluded.

Kyle Orton is a known quantity, and not an exceptionally great one. Crennel’s best shot might be to go for broke and throw Ricky Stanzi to the wolves. If Stanzi succeeds in taking down the undefeated Packers and/or the mighty Tim Tebow, both of them will look like geniuses, and they very well might turn this franchise around. If Stanzi fails, neither will have done significant damage to their perceived value. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Come to think of it, there’s another place Crennel can affect a little change. Bill Muir, don’t worry about calling plays anymore. Jim Zorn is gonna take a crack at that. Your sole responsibility between now and January 1st is to teach Jon Asamoah something–literally anything–about run blocking. And once the season is over, a delegation from this website will be happy to teach you a thing or two about how to pack a suitcase.

The bad news is that I think I was a better writer then than I am now. The good news is that, while I do now feel the need to act with some degree of integrity, inside of the boundaries of not blatantly making shit up, I do still get to say whatever I want. Lots of writers don’t get that freedom. Sure, it doesn’t always pay great, but I’ll bet I sleep better drink less enjoy life more get better trim get less hate mail than Bob Gretz.

The Bob Howry piece, entitled “Cubs’ Bullpen Unrolls Operation: Vulture”, detailed a fictitious plan in which Howry, Chad Gaudin, and the bottom half of the Chicago bullpen would intentionally blow leads in hopes that the hitters would bail them out in the seventh and eighth innings, thus securing wins for the middle relievers, who under normal circumstances don’t accrue meaningful statistics. There’s no direct parallel for vulture wins in football. Wins and losses are loosely and unofficially attributed on stats sites only to starting quarterbacks. On Pro Football Reference, for instance, Tom Brady is credited with a record of 1-0 for the 2008 season despite having only thrown 11 passes before being crippled by HBO pop & lock sensation Bernard Pollard midway through the first quarter.

The closest thing I can come up with as a parallel is a quarterback that relies on his defense to win games for him. Kyle Boller immediately comes to mind. He’s credited as 9-7 for 2004, despite throwing for less than one touchdown pass per game. How did head coach Brian Billick manage to amass a winning record with withe such a dearth of talent at the top spot? Easy. He asked Hall of Famer Deion Sanders to come kick it with future Hall of Famers Ray Lewis and Ed Reed. Having a few other Pro Bowl players around (Terrell Suggs, Chris McAlister, Adalius Thomas, and Bart Scott) didn’t hurt either.

This was old hat for Billick, who won the Super Bowl in his second year as head coach with a team that once went a month without scoring an offensive touchdown. Looking back, it’s difficult to comprehend that Billick’s background prior to his stint in Baltimore was as an offensive guru in Minnesota. Then again, if you look a little closer at what Minnesota did personnel-wise during his tenure, maybe some of the explanation is hidden just below the surface. In his seven years there, they worked through five quarterbacks: Rich Gannon, Jim McMahon, Warren Moon, Brad Johnson, and Randall Cunningham. His offensive put up gaudy numbers at times, but never developed any consistency. They also never attempted to draft a QB with anything higher than a fourth round pick.

(Look…. I tried desperately to work a Purple Rain reference in that last paragraph…. Something along the lines of Billick purifying his playbook in the waters of Lake Minnetonka. I couldn’t make it work. I told you I was getting worse at this.)

When he got his big gig in Baltimore, Billick did more of the same–Tony Banks, Stoney Case, Trent Dilfer, Elvis Grbac, and Jeff Blake–before finally coughing up a high pick on Kyle Boller. From the start he was giftwrapped a defense that included the aforementioned Lewis and McAlister along with Rod Woodson, Peter Boulware, Michael McCreary, Tony Siragusa, Rob Burnett, and Duane Starks. Those guys did a lot to mask the fact that he didn’t bother fielding a good signal caller until his ninth season (the late, great Steve McNair). The entire population of North America knew by the end of 2004 that Boller didn’t belong. Billick wasn’t blind to it. He just thought he could do it without a top flight QB. He wasn’t entirely wrong, obviously, but even with a defense captained by arguably the best middle linebacker to ever play the game, he couldn’t develop consistency. Nobody can.

All of that is longhand for this: Tyler Palko sucked. He’s sort of an inverse of Brodie Croyle: surprising vision and durability, but absolutely no physical tools, technique, or finesse. His Hail Mary touchdown completion was pure happenstance. Let’s not kid ourselves about what actually happened there…. Brian Urlacher intercepted the pass, then Chris Conte, whom my sources have confirmed was watching the movie Semi Pro immediately before taking the field, batted the ball out of Urlacher’s hands to avoid having to buy the entire stadium corn dogs.

The defense, on the other hand, did exactly what they’re supposed to do in games like this. They manhandled a pair of underachieving offensive tackles, and by mid afternoon they had severely undermined an entire state’s confidence in a backup quarterback in whom they had previously placed a wealth of faith. For established leaders like Derrick Johnson and Tamba Hali, it was an assertion of prior established dominance. For rookie Justin Houston, it was a very welcome coming out party that completed his claim for a full time starting job. For the faltering Jon McGraw, it was a much needed redemption near the close of what will likely be his final season. For the unit as a whole, it was proof that their success against Pittsburgh a week earlier wasn’t a fluke.

This was a vulture win. With the starting quarterback on injured reserve, I could accept a few of those, and probably even relish in them. Herein lies the problem: Derrick Johnson isn’t Ray Lewis and Kendrick Lewis isn’t Ed Reed, but Matt Cassel is Kyle Boller. That’s not a knock on DJ and Kendrick either. They, like most of the players on their team, have the skills to do their requisite parts on a championship run. The Kansas City Chiefs, when healthy, are no more than four or five players away from having one of the best rosters in the conference. If, however, the 2012 season opens with Cassel and Palko at the top of the depth chart, it won’t matter if the front office hits a home run with the other three or four positions of need.

This season is a turning point in Todd Haley’s career. If he does not force Scott Pioli’s hand in addressing the top spot, his career ceiling is Billick’s at best. Of course, he’ll need that well of Pro Bowl and future Hall Of Fame defenders playing lights out every week to keep him from looking fully incompetent. Conversely, he could just avoid that approach altogether, get a great quarterback, and start talking to local jewelers about getting his ring finger measured.

To close this week’s review, I thought about trying to write a funny line about the Kyle Orton era. Then it occurred to me…. in the amount of time it will take you to finish this paragraph, you could have watched his career in red and gold at least twice.

Anticipate seeing a lot more of that next season. With San Diego faltering, the teams in the AFC West that will get national media attention will be those two–Denver and Oakland. Why Denver? Because soap operas always play well on network television. Why Oakland? Because they’re good. I hate it. You hate it. Pretty much everybody outside of the Bay Area hates it.

Hating it doesn’t make it any less true.

The Raiders followed their 2002 AFC Champ season with seven losing seasons, averaging four wins a year and never exceeding five. Their starting quarterbacks during the post-Rich Gannon era: Rick Mirer, Marques Tuiasasopo, Kerry Collins, Andrew Walter, Aaron Brooks, Daunte Culpepper, Josh McCown, Charlie Frye, Bruce Gradkowski, and JaMarcus Russell. Russell was the winningest of the bunch, going 7-18 as a starter.

Last season, Oakland acquired through free agency an average QB. The result? They had an average season. This year, when said average QB was placed on injured reserve, rather than chancing it with Kyle Boller, they made what was billed at the time as an awful trade for a great QB who hadn’t taken a snap in over nine months. He made his first start in silver and black on November 6. In September and October, the Raiders went 4-3. With him at the helm, they’re 3-1. If they beat Miami this week (not exactly a chip shot, but not far off), they’ll have their longest winning streak in a decade.

Many will question my decision to label Carson Palmer a great quarterback. Let’s not forget that, despite being hamstrung by a bad coach and what we’ve since discovered was probably a highly overrated receiver corps, he threw for over 22,000 yards and 154 touchdowns. For all of Chad Ochocinco’s largely self-induced hype, of his 10,984 career yards, only 625 have come from QBs not named Carson Palmer. With Palmer, he averaged 80 yards a game. Without? 40.

Kansas City’s defense just held one of the league’s more gifted offenses to 13 points. That’s great. Jackie Battle is averaging 4.4 yards per carry. That’s great too. Dwayne Bowe, Steve Breaston, and Jonathan Baldwin are the Chiefs’ best receiving trio in at least two decades. I’m thrilled that that particular deficiency was finally addressed.

None of it matters. No matter how good the rest of a roster is, as goes the quarterback, so goes the team. If he’s average, the team will be average. If he stinks, the team will stink. Any team that views Matt Cassel as a long term solution and Tyler Palko as an acceptable alternative will be met with limited success. In the past decade, each of the Chiefs’ division rivals has made bold, daring, and sometimes inexplicable moves to address this simple fact. Each has used at least one first round draft pick in the process. The highest the Chiefs have gone is half of a second rounder (ironic, since he plays about half as well as a second rounder). This has to stop.

I’d like to close this week’s entry in the grand diatribe with something a little different. I’d like all of you to start by standing up. Go ahead, do it. Trust me on this. Are you standing? Good. Now stretch your arms above your head as high as you can. Are you scraping your knuckles on spackle? No? Good. Now stop blaming Dwayne Bowe for not catching that ball.

Would Ricky Stanzi have been better? I don’t know. I haven’t seen enough of him to make that assessment. I have, however, seen enough of Matt Cassel to make an assessment of him, and I’m confident in saying this: Cassel would not have been better. Say what you will about Tyler Palko. At least he tried to play quarterback.

Don’t get me wrong. I think the probability of Palko being named QBOTF is slim to none. He makes awkward, dangerous throws, never really plants his feet, and takes ages to work through his reads. That last part is key to my declaration, however. For all his shortcomings, Palko does actually stick with his progression rather than checking down to Dexter McCluster at the first sign of trouble. In 37 attempts, he took aim at his top three wideouts 23 times. Of the remaining 14, ten were intended for tight ends, two for reserve receivers, and one each for McCluster and Jackie Battle.

In other words, for a team that lacks a Marshall Faulk/Priest Holmes type soft-handed tailback, Palko’s pass distribution was just about textbook perfect.

I will now assess the remaining aspects of the Chiefs’ game plan that went as hoped Monday night:

….

I will now issue a prediction of the aspects of the Chiefs’ game plan that I believe will be successful in stopping the Steelers tomorrow night:

….

During Matt Cassel’s tenure as starter, this team was at times able to pull itself up by its bootstraps and overcome a tepid performance by its leader. In the absence of its two best players, Jamaal Charles and Eric Berry, they seem less and less capable of overcoming adversity. If one facet fires on all cylinders (Tamba Hali and Wallace Gilberry successfully harassing the opponent’s signal caller, for instance), it’s almost guaranteed that some other previously successful unit (Tyson Jackson and Jovan Belcher, for instance) will falter. There is enough talent on this roster to compete in a weak division, but without an effective player at the top spot, the remaining key playmakers must play at maximum potential nonstop.

I just don’t see it happening.

In the spirit of the season, I think it’s appropriate to close this week’s article with a declaration of thanksgiving. On Monday night, Bill Muir’s role appeared to be diminished to standing on the sideline and relaying plays from Haley to Palko. For this, I am thankful. Also adhering to the seasonal theme, the Chiefs signed Kyle Orton this week, which means we can spend the rest of the year enjoying leftovers from our neighbor’s house.

Is it too early to start talking about the draft?

Today, at 4-5, the miracle is that they even won those four. Losing back to back games to legitimate Suck4Luck contenders really puts things back into perspective. I’m trying my hardest to not be unduly critical, but I’m angry. I look at Kansas City’s depth chart and I don’t see a team that should be scoring so little and conceding so much. Going into November, if there were two must-win games on the Chiefs’ schedule, these were it.

Attempting to dissect Sunday’s loss…. well…. it ain’t rocket science. I adhere to the simple philosophy that if your defense holds the opponent to under 20, you should win. By that benchmark, the defense did their job (they actually didn’t, but I’ll get to that in a moment). All the offense needed to do was find the endzone three times against a lower echelon Denver defense that was allowing 28.4 points a game.

If your starting quarterback only throws for 93 yards, you can pretty much kiss your chances of finding the endzone three times goodbye.

I think the overwhelming majority of fans acknowledge now that Matt Cassel isn’t all that good. By the same token, he’s not so awful that winning is an automatic preclusion. Cassel occupies that awkward middle ground wherein the passer isn’t good enough to win very many games single-handedly, but also isn’t bad enough to lose very many single-handedly. This was anything but a single-handed loss. For the second week in a row, an offensive line generally regarded as at least halfway decent absolutely failed to protect their QB. I don’t care if the opponent’s starting defensive line was Reggie White, Bruce Smith, John Randle, and Warren Sapp all in their primes…. Under no circumstance is four sacks and twelve hits acceptable.

Cassel’s receivers weren’t doing him any favors either. In the words of Elvis Grbac, he can’t throw the ball and catch it too. Between Champ Bailey’s coverage and Cassel’s inaccuracy, extraordinary effort on the part of Dwayne Bowe, Steve Breaston, and Jonathan Baldwin was a requirement for success. Aside from Baldwin’s recalled David Tyree-inspired behind-the-back catch, I saw precious little extraordinary effort.

There’s really no applicable excuse on the other side of the ball either. In 60 minutes of regulation football, Tim Tebow completed exactly the same number of passes that George Clooney did in 114 minutes of Leatherheads. There’s a relatively effective way to combat that sort of game plan: bench a safety and bring in an extra linebacker, then stack heavy toward the side with the extra tight end. Sure, it’s a gross oversimplification, but it works, provided you have a worthy fifth linebacker. The Chiefs don’t.

For as ugly as the last two weeks have been, the worst is yet to come. With Matt Cassel injured and possibly out for the season, we’re probably about to get a long, hard look at Tyler Palko. Bill Muir might want to borrow Denver’s playbook for a day or two and test out Palko’s legs, because I have zero confidence in his arm. I suspect this could be worse than weeks one and two. The Bills and the Lions are coming back down to earth; they’re not as good as we’ve been giving them credit for. The Packers, Patriots, and Steelers, on the other hand, really are that good, and they’re not hesitant to run up the score.

Ground Control to Major Todd: your QB’s dead. Give Stanzi the nod. Can you hear me, Major Todd?

Post Script~Let’s give Bill Muir a shot at singing the chorus: Here am I sitting in my press box, far above the field. The O Line really blew, and there’s nothing I can do.

Fire Bill Muir.