Keidel: Beckham Proving To Be More About Style Than Substance
By Jason Keidel
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When we put a postmortem on a season, we scramble for scapegoats. Especially one that ends so abruptly, sans the promise we thought would flower in a few weeks.
Less than a day ago you had visions of the Giants tearing through Green Bay, of low-key Eli Manning ducking into a phone booth and Playoff Eli bolting out, of this top-ranked defense dousing the most sizzling quarterback in the sport.
Playoff Eli didn't show up. The defense let them down. The running game sagged. Or, simply, the Giants faced the best quarterback on earth playing at his absolute best. Maybe Aura and Mystique indeed dance at your local gentlemen's club, rather than pitch at Yankee Stadium or pass at Lambeau Field. Maybe it's just the better player happens to grace that sacred ground more times than not.
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But if we're looking for life lessons here, this is a perfect moment for Odell Beckham Jr to reflect.
Four catches, 28 yards.
You know the rest, or what's coming. The boat. Miami. A gifted gaggle of receivers that so quickly morphed from posing to poseurs. That fateful Monday in Miami, an innocuous day off, the 24-hour vacation that went viral. A sunny day at sea and sweaty night with Justin Bieber. (Queue up the Gilligan's Island theme song.)
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They did nothing wrong, amoral, or illegal. Flexing on a boat, to look like the B-Side of a bad, '90s hip-hop album is simply poor aesthetics, not poor performance.
Four catches, 28 yards.
The sun-swathed picture, replete with abs, boots, and bling, was simply silly. But the optics matter. We can't draw a direct correlation between his Love Boat moment in Miami and his poor performance on Sunday. But is it a coincidence that he dropped at least three passes, all three of which he touched with both hands? And that first-half pass that slithered through his hands in the end zone was quite catchable, particularly for one with his skill set. And it would have met the twin-goals of scoring six points and serving notice that Big Blue owns Green Bay in the playoffs.
When the Giants punted with about 3:50 left in the first half, they had amassed 194 total yards to 29 for the Packers. Yet they entered halftime trailing by a score, the score that Beckham couldn't catch. Randall Cobb, half the receiver Beckham is, makes that impossible Hail Mary catch among an army of defenders, while Beckham botches the most facile passes.
Beckham played a lousy game, when you consider his talent and the timing. This was Beckham's first foray into January, when good players become great, and great players become transcendent. January is legacy time. Yet when the Giants needed his best game, Beckham gave them his worst game.
And while no one questions Beckham's skill or will, his gridiron maturity is far from certain, his route tree into fame quite incomplete.
Four catches, 28 yards.
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Beckham averages that in one quarter. And, fair or not, his devotion to the team will be questioned. Is he about balling or his brand? Perhaps you give him a mulligan for his first dance on the playoff stage. But like it or not, he is fueling the cliche of the me-first wide receiver, the narcissistic, direct descendent of Terrell Owens doing sit-ups in his driveway.
Hector Santiago, from Jersey City, and an avid fan of WFAN and WFAN.com, said after the game that Beckham is the NFL iteration of Carmelo Anthony. Great talent. Wildly gifted scorer. But perhaps more about the spotlight and Page Six than the scoreboard and back page. Perhaps it's premature to write the book on Beckham less than halfway through his career. But he needs to metabolize and meditate and mature.
We're seeing fewer highlight reel catches and more demo reel rehearsing, with a spastic Beckham flinging his arms and legs on the deep carpet of the locker room. The idea that someone spends this much time choreographing his TD dances rips the spontaneity from it. It feels more forced than fun, more business than the extemporaneous glee at the goal line. The best, or at least most, ironic part is that Beckham spent all that time practicing, yet never got to flaunt his new moves.
Four catches, 28 yards.
We need No. 13 to be less Paula Abdul and more Jerry Rice. Or just Odell Beckham Jr.
Follow Jason on Twitter at @JasonKeidel
