It was a day of mixed emotions for the New York fan in me...mostly before 1 PM.
Long, long ago in a state far, far away, my family had the satellite television service known as DirecTV. So, what's the big deal, you ask? Well, DirecTV has the exclusive rights to the package known as NFL Sunday Ticket, which allows out-of-town fans to watch any football game not otherwise available on local channels. I imagine that this deal is quite profitable for the NFL, because it means shutting out cable customers, which leaves literally millions of viewers without the option of purchasing the Ticket. At least the digital cable company provides access to most baseball, basketball, and hockey games for a fee, although one might argue that the quality of this service tends to be compromised when the picture fades to black every minute or so (seemingly only when the Yankees are playing).
East Coast fans transplanted to the Pacific region must wake up earlier than anyone else on the weekends, and it's likely that only the die-hards make sure to catch the first pitch of 10 AM (or 1 in the afternoon Eastern time) baseball games. When I bolt downstairs on Saturdays just before starting lineups are announced, my family sometimes laughs, realizing this is no coincidence. Years ago, when we lived in St. Louis, the same could be said for days that football was on: the Jets often played at 1 Eastern, and I was usually ready for kickoff. The games I once watched at Cal, which often air at 1 Pacific or later on Saturdays, seem obscenely late by comparison.
Realizing that this Sunday was the first of the football season, we knew that a solution had to be found. Lacking the only portal to New York's NFL action short of a trip to the Big Apple, my dad and I did what any reasonable humans would given the situation: we decided to visit a sports bar. Knowing we'd need to find a place with multiple televisions, the closest location we could come up with was the Fox Sports Grill at the Irvine Spectrum. Their website indicated not only that they served breakfast, but also that the doors opened early for football games.
Just before 9:30, the two of us headed off onto the 5 freeway, noticing how empty the roads look on weekend mornings. We missed the turnoff onto Fortune Drive despite our knowing exactly where it was, but still had plenty of time to spare before game time. As soon as we saw half a dozen people clad in jerseys in the distance as they prepared to cross the street, it was obvious we had reached our destination. A full parking lot before ten on a Sunday only confirmed this suspicion.
After opening the restaurant doors, we were greeted by a bank of television screens, mostly tuned to the standard Fox NFL pregame show, although to our delight, two were devoted to the upcoming Yankees/Red Sox game. The one hang-up I had about coming in the first place was potentially missing the series finale, a game which New York desperately needed to win. We settled into seats at the bar, and I was promptly asked for ID (I've only begun to realize that having recently turning 22 doesn't exempt you from this). I ordered up some pancakes, and my father went for the omelet; I must admit it's a little strange sitting next to a beer tap while bleary-eyed and ordering the full stack.
Having ordered, I looked up to realize that the baseball coverage had ceased, and now every screen was covered with pregame football pageantry. Ah well, I thought, I came here to watch football anyway. Plus, I had brought along my satellite radio so I could at least track the ballgame score between plays. Suddenly, we heard a loud, booming noise. Much to our chagrin, God Bless America, as sung by Jessica Simpson, had begun to bounce off the walls of the considerably sized grill. Anything that comes out of a speaker at roughly 1000 decibels has to be considered annoying, but this county-tinged anthem made it all the worse. My dad yelled just strongly enough for me to make out that he thought she was a terrible singer. The apple didn't fall far from the tree in regard to this issue. All right, I thought, let's just get this over with. Then, I would be able to hear myself speak again.
Having finished with the ultrapatriotic introduction, Fox moved onto the obligatory commercial break. The only trouble was, the guy at the switchboard didn't move the volume down a bit from what it was during the song. As it turns out, it stayed there for just about the entire time we stayed, whether the primary TV was announcing a touchdown or running an ad for tires. However, we were momentarily distracted by something awe-inspiring: the second television on the right wall was showing the Jets and home team Kansas City Chiefs heading through the tunnel onto the field. Finally, the moment we had been waiting for!
Well, almost. Anyone who's a fan of the league and paying attention to its coverage will tell you that advertisements are sneaked into every possible break, including some situations where there isn't enough time to justify them. This is a point not missed by last night's Simpsons episode, in which the play-by-play man is too distracted by his interview of a reality show's cast to focus on the game itself. Of course, the Simpsons and early NFL coverage are on the same station!
The Chiefs won the coin toss and elected to receive the football. In years past, Kansas City has been known for a terrific offense and an equally terrible defense, a combination destined to disappoint its ultra loyal fans (my dad pointed out that on the Friday before a game, the whole town wears the team color, red). The Jets, for their part, were coming off a postseason in which they defeated San Diego in overtime on a field goal (a game I attended, also with him), but then lost to Pittsburgh in the AFC Semifinal, mostly due to the kicking game. As I said to a Steelers fan as we entered the place, the former kicker (one-time Cal player Doug Brien) both won and cost them a game. He has since been replaced by rookie second-round pick Mike Nugent, from Ohio State, a point not lost on the man in the black and yellow Pittsburgh jersey.
As it turned out, the Jets' troubles began almost as soon as the ensuing kickoff. Dante Hall may not have gotten far with the return, but the offense picked up where he left off, needing just 3 rushes (two by Priest Holmes for 40 yards and a 35 yard run for the touchdown by Larry Johnson) to complete its drive. I rolled my eyes at my dad, but knew full well that this was the kind of start Cal had gotten off to the previous day before eventually trouncing Washington 56-17.
On this day, a similar story was not to be. On the Chiefs' next drive, the Jets were hapless on 3rd down, eventually succumbing to the 12-play touchdown, after which I buried my face in some more blueberries above the scattered cheers from Chiefs fans. From the looks of this game, the Cal Bears wouldn't have minded playing the guys in green. The team fumbled 7 times, were penalized for 80 yards, allowed 198 rushing yards, and had its only touchdown thrown by backup quarterback Jay Fiedler. Somehow, Chad Pennington put up 264 passing yards during the debacle.
I have been told that if I'm optimistic about anything in life, it's sports. Maybe this is because they are such a source of pleasure for me, or perhaps I am able to put individual seasons into perspective. Make no mistake: losses hurt me as much as anyone, but I can appreciate the development of rookies in a rebuilding season and understand that a team will not always show off its ability on a given day. Well, let me just say this: I hope the Jets fall into that category after their 27-7 defeat.
Going to the grill was an interesting experience, but my dad and I were done by halftime. If the game were on at home, I would have at least continued watching, but between the volume of the TV and our proximity to so many drunken individuals before noon, we had had enough. Just before leaving, a middle-aged Jets fan on my left talked about a game he attended in the freezing cold the year before. I shot back with my tales from the playoff overtime contest in San Diego in the middle of a surprising amount of rain. He suggested we stay for the second half, that the game wasn't over yet; I agreed with him on the second count, at least.
We had we seen enough of olive jars, waitresses in pink jerseys, and beer mugs, but there was another reason we were interested in getting home. The New York/Boston ballgame was still going, with the Yankees leading due to a Jason Giambi solo homer in the first inning, which I somehow managed to hear on my XM radio above the din of the Fox Sports Grill. Meanwhile, the game was a classic pitcher's duel: a call to my sister told us that the Red Sox pitcher Tim Wakefield had a career high in strikeouts, while Randy Johnson had a shutout going.
We got home in time for the bottom of the seventh, but the only interesting half-innings remaining occurred while Boston was hitting. Knowing that a win would help the Yankees in the Wild Card race and move them within 3 games of the AL East division lead, it was extremely tough to watch them pitch with just a one-run cushion. In the eighth, Tony Graffanino singled off Tom Gordon to begin the inning, and Adam Stern pinch ran. Then, after Doug Mirabelli hit a pop up, the Yankees (either intentionally or mistakenly) let the ball drop, and forced out the speedy Stern at second base. WCBS radio commentator John Sterling would later say that he couldn't believe a team would do that on purpose and risk giving up an extra base runner, and my palpitating heart tended to agree. After Ortiz walked with two out, Mariano Rivera came on in relief. Johnny Damon had an epic at-bat, including a ball hit just foul down the right field line, before meekly grounding out to first. Michael Kay of the YES TV network put it best: "If you are a nail biter, this is your time."
Rivera had to face the 2-3-4 hitters in the top of the 9th in pursuit of his 37th save, and the tension didn't ease up for a minute. Edgar Renteria lined a ball ticketed for center field on the first pitch, but the calm closer reached up and made a great play for the first out. Next, the count went to 2-2 on Trot Nixon, who grounded out. Rivera gave himself a chance to retire Manny Ramirez, but the patient righty walked on a full count, moving to third on Kevin Millar's single. Now, the Sox sent the streaking John Olerud to the plate, who had been a Yankee at this time last season. Olerud refused to chase pitches out of the zone, but Rivera's 2-2 fastball struck him out swinging. The Yankees had their series victory, grinding out a game that was arguably more important than the Jets' season opener.
All in all, it was an interesting weekend of athletics. Ohio State managed to mess up my prediction by blowing a late lead to Texas, while Cal's backup quarterback proved himself the week after their first-stringer was seriously injured.
The New Orleans Saints pulled off a surprising and emotional win over a very tough Carolina defense. The New York Giants proved that they're always better than a team that starts their castoff Kurt Warner at quarterback, while Larry Fitzgerald showed me he could be a fantasy producer at wide receiver for Arizona. Finally, the Rams perpetuated the stereotype that they can rack up the yardage without winning (I'll take the fantasy points from QB Marc Bulger, though).
Finally, Cleveland demolished the Twins to maintain their wild card lead over the New York Yankees and Oakland A's before moving on to play the Athletics at home. I kind of hate to watch the scoreboard to see how Yankee opponents fare, and lately the Indians have made this even more of a frustrating pursuit.
sports
Long, long ago in a state far, far away, my family had the satellite television service known as DirecTV. So, what's the big deal, you ask? Well, DirecTV has the exclusive rights to the package known as NFL Sunday Ticket, which allows out-of-town fans to watch any football game not otherwise available on local channels. I imagine that this deal is quite profitable for the NFL, because it means shutting out cable customers, which leaves literally millions of viewers without the option of purchasing the Ticket. At least the digital cable company provides access to most baseball, basketball, and hockey games for a fee, although one might argue that the quality of this service tends to be compromised when the picture fades to black every minute or so (seemingly only when the Yankees are playing).
East Coast fans transplanted to the Pacific region must wake up earlier than anyone else on the weekends, and it's likely that only the die-hards make sure to catch the first pitch of 10 AM (or 1 in the afternoon Eastern time) baseball games. When I bolt downstairs on Saturdays just before starting lineups are announced, my family sometimes laughs, realizing this is no coincidence. Years ago, when we lived in St. Louis, the same could be said for days that football was on: the Jets often played at 1 Eastern, and I was usually ready for kickoff. The games I once watched at Cal, which often air at 1 Pacific or later on Saturdays, seem obscenely late by comparison.
Realizing that this Sunday was the first of the football season, we knew that a solution had to be found. Lacking the only portal to New York's NFL action short of a trip to the Big Apple, my dad and I did what any reasonable humans would given the situation: we decided to visit a sports bar. Knowing we'd need to find a place with multiple televisions, the closest location we could come up with was the Fox Sports Grill at the Irvine Spectrum. Their website indicated not only that they served breakfast, but also that the doors opened early for football games.
Just before 9:30, the two of us headed off onto the 5 freeway, noticing how empty the roads look on weekend mornings. We missed the turnoff onto Fortune Drive despite our knowing exactly where it was, but still had plenty of time to spare before game time. As soon as we saw half a dozen people clad in jerseys in the distance as they prepared to cross the street, it was obvious we had reached our destination. A full parking lot before ten on a Sunday only confirmed this suspicion.
After opening the restaurant doors, we were greeted by a bank of television screens, mostly tuned to the standard Fox NFL pregame show, although to our delight, two were devoted to the upcoming Yankees/Red Sox game. The one hang-up I had about coming in the first place was potentially missing the series finale, a game which New York desperately needed to win. We settled into seats at the bar, and I was promptly asked for ID (I've only begun to realize that having recently turning 22 doesn't exempt you from this). I ordered up some pancakes, and my father went for the omelet; I must admit it's a little strange sitting next to a beer tap while bleary-eyed and ordering the full stack.
Having ordered, I looked up to realize that the baseball coverage had ceased, and now every screen was covered with pregame football pageantry. Ah well, I thought, I came here to watch football anyway. Plus, I had brought along my satellite radio so I could at least track the ballgame score between plays. Suddenly, we heard a loud, booming noise. Much to our chagrin, God Bless America, as sung by Jessica Simpson, had begun to bounce off the walls of the considerably sized grill. Anything that comes out of a speaker at roughly 1000 decibels has to be considered annoying, but this county-tinged anthem made it all the worse. My dad yelled just strongly enough for me to make out that he thought she was a terrible singer. The apple didn't fall far from the tree in regard to this issue. All right, I thought, let's just get this over with. Then, I would be able to hear myself speak again.
Having finished with the ultrapatriotic introduction, Fox moved onto the obligatory commercial break. The only trouble was, the guy at the switchboard didn't move the volume down a bit from what it was during the song. As it turns out, it stayed there for just about the entire time we stayed, whether the primary TV was announcing a touchdown or running an ad for tires. However, we were momentarily distracted by something awe-inspiring: the second television on the right wall was showing the Jets and home team Kansas City Chiefs heading through the tunnel onto the field. Finally, the moment we had been waiting for!
Well, almost. Anyone who's a fan of the league and paying attention to its coverage will tell you that advertisements are sneaked into every possible break, including some situations where there isn't enough time to justify them. This is a point not missed by last night's Simpsons episode, in which the play-by-play man is too distracted by his interview of a reality show's cast to focus on the game itself. Of course, the Simpsons and early NFL coverage are on the same station!
The Chiefs won the coin toss and elected to receive the football. In years past, Kansas City has been known for a terrific offense and an equally terrible defense, a combination destined to disappoint its ultra loyal fans (my dad pointed out that on the Friday before a game, the whole town wears the team color, red). The Jets, for their part, were coming off a postseason in which they defeated San Diego in overtime on a field goal (a game I attended, also with him), but then lost to Pittsburgh in the AFC Semifinal, mostly due to the kicking game. As I said to a Steelers fan as we entered the place, the former kicker (one-time Cal player Doug Brien) both won and cost them a game. He has since been replaced by rookie second-round pick Mike Nugent, from Ohio State, a point not lost on the man in the black and yellow Pittsburgh jersey.
As it turned out, the Jets' troubles began almost as soon as the ensuing kickoff. Dante Hall may not have gotten far with the return, but the offense picked up where he left off, needing just 3 rushes (two by Priest Holmes for 40 yards and a 35 yard run for the touchdown by Larry Johnson) to complete its drive. I rolled my eyes at my dad, but knew full well that this was the kind of start Cal had gotten off to the previous day before eventually trouncing Washington 56-17.
On this day, a similar story was not to be. On the Chiefs' next drive, the Jets were hapless on 3rd down, eventually succumbing to the 12-play touchdown, after which I buried my face in some more blueberries above the scattered cheers from Chiefs fans. From the looks of this game, the Cal Bears wouldn't have minded playing the guys in green. The team fumbled 7 times, were penalized for 80 yards, allowed 198 rushing yards, and had its only touchdown thrown by backup quarterback Jay Fiedler. Somehow, Chad Pennington put up 264 passing yards during the debacle.
I have been told that if I'm optimistic about anything in life, it's sports. Maybe this is because they are such a source of pleasure for me, or perhaps I am able to put individual seasons into perspective. Make no mistake: losses hurt me as much as anyone, but I can appreciate the development of rookies in a rebuilding season and understand that a team will not always show off its ability on a given day. Well, let me just say this: I hope the Jets fall into that category after their 27-7 defeat.
Going to the grill was an interesting experience, but my dad and I were done by halftime. If the game were on at home, I would have at least continued watching, but between the volume of the TV and our proximity to so many drunken individuals before noon, we had had enough. Just before leaving, a middle-aged Jets fan on my left talked about a game he attended in the freezing cold the year before. I shot back with my tales from the playoff overtime contest in San Diego in the middle of a surprising amount of rain. He suggested we stay for the second half, that the game wasn't over yet; I agreed with him on the second count, at least.
We had we seen enough of olive jars, waitresses in pink jerseys, and beer mugs, but there was another reason we were interested in getting home. The New York/Boston ballgame was still going, with the Yankees leading due to a Jason Giambi solo homer in the first inning, which I somehow managed to hear on my XM radio above the din of the Fox Sports Grill. Meanwhile, the game was a classic pitcher's duel: a call to my sister told us that the Red Sox pitcher Tim Wakefield had a career high in strikeouts, while Randy Johnson had a shutout going.
We got home in time for the bottom of the seventh, but the only interesting half-innings remaining occurred while Boston was hitting. Knowing that a win would help the Yankees in the Wild Card race and move them within 3 games of the AL East division lead, it was extremely tough to watch them pitch with just a one-run cushion. In the eighth, Tony Graffanino singled off Tom Gordon to begin the inning, and Adam Stern pinch ran. Then, after Doug Mirabelli hit a pop up, the Yankees (either intentionally or mistakenly) let the ball drop, and forced out the speedy Stern at second base. WCBS radio commentator John Sterling would later say that he couldn't believe a team would do that on purpose and risk giving up an extra base runner, and my palpitating heart tended to agree. After Ortiz walked with two out, Mariano Rivera came on in relief. Johnny Damon had an epic at-bat, including a ball hit just foul down the right field line, before meekly grounding out to first. Michael Kay of the YES TV network put it best: "If you are a nail biter, this is your time."
Rivera had to face the 2-3-4 hitters in the top of the 9th in pursuit of his 37th save, and the tension didn't ease up for a minute. Edgar Renteria lined a ball ticketed for center field on the first pitch, but the calm closer reached up and made a great play for the first out. Next, the count went to 2-2 on Trot Nixon, who grounded out. Rivera gave himself a chance to retire Manny Ramirez, but the patient righty walked on a full count, moving to third on Kevin Millar's single. Now, the Sox sent the streaking John Olerud to the plate, who had been a Yankee at this time last season. Olerud refused to chase pitches out of the zone, but Rivera's 2-2 fastball struck him out swinging. The Yankees had their series victory, grinding out a game that was arguably more important than the Jets' season opener.
All in all, it was an interesting weekend of athletics. Ohio State managed to mess up my prediction by blowing a late lead to Texas, while Cal's backup quarterback proved himself the week after their first-stringer was seriously injured.
The New Orleans Saints pulled off a surprising and emotional win over a very tough Carolina defense. The New York Giants proved that they're always better than a team that starts their castoff Kurt Warner at quarterback, while Larry Fitzgerald showed me he could be a fantasy producer at wide receiver for Arizona. Finally, the Rams perpetuated the stereotype that they can rack up the yardage without winning (I'll take the fantasy points from QB Marc Bulger, though).
Finally, Cleveland demolished the Twins to maintain their wild card lead over the New York Yankees and Oakland A's before moving on to play the Athletics at home. I kind of hate to watch the scoreboard to see how Yankee opponents fare, and lately the Indians have made this even more of a frustrating pursuit.
sports
posted by Alex at 1:19 PM
1 Comments:
Thanks for the comment...you've got an impressive operation over there.
-Alex
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