As the tornadic talk continues over the Hall of Fame vote, Goose Gossage is making the rounds about his past, present, and potential colleagues in Cooperstown. And, as always, he’s trotting out the regurgitated mantras regarding relief pitching.
I love Knicks fans. You may think you’re special, but in truth your favorite team has made you a mouth-breathing dolt. Maybe it’s not your fault. Your expectations are so low that any spark in the cold black chasm of winter feels like a heat wave.
We can drop endless platitudes on the Colts’ comeback yesterday, but watching wild card weekend you saw why GMs are hired and fired based on their ability to find a franchise quarterback. Indianapolis has one.
Every game this weekend has fascinating plots, from Cincinnati trying to break its playoff futility to the Frozen Tundra earning its sobriquet with a 30-below wind chill expected Sunday.
Since when were we so dismissive of two Lombardi Trophies? Just 23 months ago we were wondering if Eli had a better career than brother Peyton. We’d already placed the Giants’ QB in the Hall of Fame.
No matter your personal feelings about Tebow, how can someone who won a playoff game not make an NFL roster? What exactly has he done since then to scare off every team and town on the pro football map?
This is now three consecutive years without a chance to get the trophy that he guaranteed us. That’s three strikes, which usually gets a coach fired. But Ryan is an unusual man.
Both have ample hardware. If winning is still the quintessential QB metric, then Ben Roethlisberger is indeed better than Eli Manning, says Jason Keidel.
Despite their dearth of recent success, all eyes will be on the Cowboys. For the karma and the drama, for better or worse, they are America’s team. Mostly for worse. Just watch on Sunday.
Every team and every town says it has the best fans in the nation. If we can assert the same, we should appreciate two guys who may not be the absolute best, but are far from the worst. Please don’t fire them and find out.
You may not recognize the new team, but you’ll probably recognize the result: just short of 90 wins, just short of the playoffs, way short of expectations.
Local cable providers love to remind us that we have nine — yes, nine — professional sports teams, a way of persuading us to click on this package or that so we can view the screen-in-screen horror we call baseball, football and basketball.
Joba was like a firefly in Central Park, carelessly drifting through the woods, free and aflame just long enough to charm an entire city, and just short enough to leave us forever frustrated.
Tom Coughlin is being wrapped in the cliche that all coaches must leave eventually because his messages, mantras, and mindset have an expiration date. It’s patently false. And, frankly, Coughlin is the one who taught us this.
The Hall of Fame is the proper, final stop of a long road that started in Brooklyn and, 50 years later, ended up in the Bronx.