This might be the greatest Super Bowl ever. It might be the worst though. No matter what, Dan Nied will take comfort with a big sandwich. And really, isn't thats what Super Bowl Sunday is all about?
It is a deluge, really.
How else can you describe the amount of Super Bowl coverage we’ve already seen?
Still six days before the game, the subplots are multiplying like cockroaches in the bowels of the media.
Well, I promise that I will quickly give my opinions on some of these supposed points of interest.
Here we go: Tom Brady vs. Donovan McNabb (Brady, he’s a Michigan man, don’t bet against them. And yes, I believe the Broncos gave up on Brian Griese too soon, but I am looking through Maize and Blue glasses)
Terrell Owens, will he play? (Yes, because he wants to have the amazing rising-from-the-dead story line attached to his legacy.)
Are the Patriots unbeatable? (Yes. They will win, lets just hope they make it close.)
Will Boston fans finally shut up after winning two Super Bowls and a World Series in just over a year? (No, Lord help us, the Curse of Larry Bird is just starting for their beloved Celtics.)
Now on to the real question: what am I going to put on my big sandwich?
See, in the past few years, I’ve developed a new tradition known as the Super Bowl Sandwich (SBS). And yes, I know you’ve seen big sandwiches before, with all the lettuce and tomato filler with that somewhat pitiful mound of meat in the center placed between some sort of granite formation they call bread.
That costs $30.
Mine will cost maybe $15 and yes, it will be built for one. It takes about the entire Super Bowl to get it down, but I get it done every year.
See, there is a secret to the SBS. First, take all the lettuce and tomatoes and whatever else has almost no taste and throw it out the window. The only thing permitted on the SBS is meat, cheese, mustard, mayo. Acceptable auxillary items are limited to pickles, green or black olives, jalapenos and banana peppers. If you put any green or red peppers on, you get a raised eyebrow from the sandwich gods, but we’ll let it slide.
Last year’s Italian delight concoction had something to do with parmesan sourdough bread with a pound of salami, a pound of pepperoni, a quarter pound of that italian ham stuff, a half pound of mozzerella, and a half pound of provelone. There were no condiments or vegetables. It was baked at 400 degrees for a half hour and still, the middle was cold.
Here’s a fun tip, grab a friend Sunday and each make your own SBS, with very different ingredients. Then, when you are done, cut them in half and exchange with your buddy. I must warn, only two people to a sandwich. If your friend doesn’t get both halves done by the end of the game, you have permission to ridicule him mercilessly.
Anyhow, I may be watching the game solo this year, so I can’t depend on a friend to top my SBS. I am thinking about switching from the Italian to the tricky salami, roast beef, turkey, pastrami sandwich to represent different cultures comeing together. Can you imagine Italian, American and Jews combining for the perfect sandwich? I might throw some brisket on there to represent the black community.
And let me ask you this. Do you realize you just read an entire Super Bowl column about sandwiches? You must really love this game.
Plot: Despite the fact that this indie flick is about existentialism and quantum physics, I think you'll be hearing a lot about it. A scientific look at energy and how it affects our lives, with a scripted story starring Marlee Matlin interspersing discussion by physicist.
Best Part: A truly thought-provoking movie with humor and real truth about how we interact with the world.
Worst Part: You must put on your thinking cap for this. A brush-up on physics and physiology might help during the beginning when you are struggling to shift into that mindset.
Left Me Feeling: Awed. Thoughtful. Proud to understand some of the concepts.
Deep Thoughts: Too many to name, but the major one was that people are addicted to feelings, created by certain behaviors and situations, and they continue to create these situations to feed their need for those feelings, such as lust or victimization or anger. Because matter is composed of energy at it's basic level, and energy can be manipulated, we can cause things to happen to us based on our expectations and energy.
Plot: Cocky young guy becomes aging salesman's boss creating power conflicts and business savvy conflict. Is the new guy with his hip marketing ideas and terms like "synergy" going to be able to replace the staid integrity of the old guy? Of course not.
Throw in relationships between the old guy and his daughter and the young guy and the daughter for some heat.
Best Part: Topher Grace gives his role as Carter Duryea realism, from his blurts of honesty to his unquenchable desire for success. He is a complex character rather than the two-dimensional schmooze that many other actors would have created. Scarlett Johanssen is radiant and adorable, giving a bit more understanding to what the fuss is all about.
Worst Part: It is a pretty bittersweet story for all the characters. Is this movie a romantic comedy? I'm not sure, but it's a damn good movie.
Left Me Feeling: What a sweet story about relationships, in their many complicated versions. Love and integrity can make difficulties easier to bear, even if they can't be conquered. It's also sort of a story about business, in an interesting parody of office politics, from the VP basketball game to the mass email about the big boss'arrival.
Deep Thoughts: What makes a young professional so driven to succeed? How do older people cope with change? Sometimes relationships are beyond definition.
Before he was regarded as the greatest coaching genius in the NFL, Bill Belichick was coach of the Cleveland Browns, and not very good at it. But like all wise men, he learned from his mistakes...
By Erik Cassano
210 west Writer [send email]
Bill Belichick, you are one lucky man.
You are standing on the precipice of your third Super Bowl in four years. If you win on February 6 (and you should), you will make the New England Patriots the "Team of the 2000s," the same way the 49ers were the "Team of the '80s" and the Steelers were the "Team of the '70s."
You will write your name alongside Bill Walsh, Vince Lombardi and Paul Brown as the greatest coaching masterminds of all time. Sure, you won't be the first to win three Super Bowls in four years, but the Cowboys needed two coaches to do it. Jimmy Johnson and Barry Switzer had better players to boot.
The mini-runs of the Denver Broncos and Oakland Raiders were more the products of John Elway, Dave Casper and Ken Stabler than Mike Shanahan, Tom Flores and John Madden.
You are winning with a philosophy, Bill, not superlative talent.
And I just wanted to say, on behalf of Browns fans everywhere and our smoking wreckage of a team, you're welcome.
You're welcome because we were your own personal safety town. You learned on us. Learned that coaching is more than poring over Xs and Os on dry-erase boards for hours on end.
You've always been one of the greatest at strategy. But when you came to Cleveland in 1991, you were clueless about being a leader, about handling people so they believe in you. You were a terse, sulking charcoal briquette of a man, leaving a trail of proverbial soot wherever you went.
You cut Bernie Kosar when Vinny Testaverde was injured. You kicked a field goal down by 21 points in the fourth quarter. You brought in retreads and castoffs from the Giants by the busload.
And yet, despite the clouds and the "Bill must go" chants, you somehow developed a dominant defense and won a playoff game against your mentor, Bill Parcells, in 1994, when he coached...the Patriots. Maybe it was a bit of your potential leaking through.
This year, you brought your reigning world champs into Cleveland, and pounded the utterly debilitated Browns 42-15. You saw some Pats fans cheering in the near-deserted stands as you left the field, and thrust your fist in the air as you made eye contact.
You are on top of the world now, Bill. But somehow, sticking it to those Browns fans that chided you, made you a punchline in the darkest, most confusing era of your career was a bit more satisfying than your scores of other wins.
But we helped mold you. Your struggles and humiliation in Cleveland forged you. You learned the need to motivate, to evaluate, to get 53 players and a dozen coaches to work as a team. You learned winning doesn't exist in the abstract, conceptual world of the playbook. That is a starting point. Games are won in the real, imperfect world of human interaction. That's what Cleveland taught you.
Now, you are the whole package. Leading like a president, strategizing like a general, winning like a champion. Your bust will be cast in bronze and placed in Canton someday. And we in Cleveland will get a chance to drive an hour south and see what we don't have: everything you have brought to New England.
We don't exist in Utopia. We merely pay it forward to other cities, other teams, other coaches.
You're welcome, Bill.
This column was originally published at papacass.blogspot.com.
The King of Late Night is dead. Johnny Carson's death marked the end of an era, and Erik Pepple tells us why a man who hasn't been on the air for more than a decade means more to modern television than most.
By Erik Pepple
210 west Pop Culture Editor [send email]
I always wanted to be called to Johnny Carson's desk.
As a kid, I harbored the quiet fantasy that someday after performing a set on The Tonight Show, he'd point and nod, and, in the ultimate act of comedic validation, I would get to sit down next to Ed and Johnny and trade words and observations about the headlines or life in general, maybe even take a jab at the number of his ex-wives. You know, the usual Carson banter.
As I grew older my allegiances shifted to David Letterman and an all-consuming desire to write comedy, more specifically comedy for Letterman. And as I honed my two-bit Lettermanisms on a table of 8th graders who would merely shrug. (Except for my friend Matt, who would serve as my surrogate McMahon/Shaffer and would gladly chortle at my bits and riffs and give me my music cues. Come to think of it, it's not surprising at all that they would shrug at my absurd lunch-table antics. It's more surprising still that none of them tried to punch me.)
As I gradually perfected this imitation, it became more and more obvious that as I was copying Letterman, I was merely riffing on the late-night persona that Johnny Carson had created. This is not to say that Letterman was merely an impersonation of Carson, but to say that Carson's influence is
incalculable. Even the most original comedian is merely a tributary of the comedic river Carson created. Carson's hosting skills and comedic genius were unparalleled. He had the kind of timing that would
make a Swiss watchmaker weep, and a bravado in his delivery that at times was so funny as to stop you cold in your tracks.
Now that Carson has died at age 79 (due to complications from emphysema), it's hard to even begin assessing his influence. Measuring the impact of Johnny Carson in comedy is like calculating the Beatles' influence on pop music -- it's so vast and far-reaching that it is nearly impossible to list all those
whom he has inspired. His influence resides in comedians who are probably too young to realize that they've been affected by him. The list of careers he kick-started is too long to ponder. Consider this:
Without Carson asking them to sit at the desk, Jerry Seinfeld, George Carlin, Dennis Miller, Bill Cosby,
David Letterman, Jay Leno, David Brenner, Joan Rivers, and so many others may never have reached the heights of their careers.
I remember watching the final episode of The Tonight Show with my dad. After Carson spent the monologue simply reflecting on his career, I could have sworn I saw my dad's posture slump as he internally recognized that the classic era of television broadcasting was over. And while the era wasn't officially gone, it is now with Carson's death. No doubt more poignant and more significant remembrances of Carson will be proffered in the coming days. (In fact, whatever way Letterman pays tribute has the potential to be one of the finest moments in broadcast history, as Letterman is so clearly the rightful heir to Carson's legacy. Carson actually felt the same to the point where, on occasion, he'd write jokes for Letterman's monologue).
In the end I carry with me the memory of Carson as Carnac, Carson bemusedly staring at Joan Embry as she wheedles around with a monkey, or needling Ed McMahon when the sidekick would chortle slightly louder than he needed to. While Steve Allen may have been ground zero for contemporary talk show comedy, Johnny Carson was the man who perfected it with a mix of irony and wit that to this day is as fresh, classic, and iconic as it was in its prime.
A young quarterback takes a blue-collar town by storm, lives up to the hype and tries to take them to the Promised Land...stop me if you've heard this one before.
By Zack Baker
210 west Writer [send email]
They say that the past is destined to repeat itself.
If that’s the case, Ben Roethlisberger had better be careful, or at least watch some tapes from 1986 and 1987. Or maybe he should just call Bernie Kosar.
It wasn’t too long ago that a golden boy with blue-collar appeal stole the hearts of an industrial, football-crazed town. Songs were written about him, commercials featured him, and his picture graced every sports magazine.
Yes, Bernie Kosar had quite a season in 1986, leading his hometown Cleveland Browns to a franchise-record 12 wins.
He threw 17 touchdown passes and just 10 interceptions, all while throwing for 3,854 yards.
Kosar and the Browns had the heart of Cleveland in their hands. It was a strange time when Clevelanders didn’t wonder if the Browns would make it to the Super Bowl...they knew they would.
Of course, history, at least national history, has forgotten much of it. 1986-87 is John Elway’s season. The word “drive” is still enough to wake any Clevelander out of a dream in a cold sweat. Lord only knows how many votes George W. Bush lost in northern Ohio for incorporating John Elway into his campaign stops.
Here we are, 18 years later.
Roethlisberger’s numbers are eerily similar to those of the 23-year old Kosar. In his rookie season, Roethlisberger has the same amount of touchdown passes, and only one more interception than Kosar had in ’86 (Kosar was in his second season). Roethlisberger did have a much higher completion percentage than Kosar in the regular season (a pretty amazing 66 percent to Kosar’s 59 percent), while throwing for fewer yards.
But Roethlisberger also appears to be what Kosar was—a model citizen. Kosar was known for his visits to children’s hospitals and his donations to charities. While Randy Moss was getting headlines for ignorance and juvenile behavior, Roethlisberger announced he would donate his $18,000 check from Saturday’s Jets game to the tsunami relief effort.
Oh and there is one more thing—the music.
I knew the lyrics to “Bernie Bernie” better than those to “Louie, Louie” in the late 1980s. (I still do, actually).
Now there is a new song, “Roethlisberger and it sure is Nice” set to the theme of “Cheeseburger in Paradise.”
Jimmy Buffett must be so proud.
Oh, and there’s one other thing. In 1986, with Browns’ first round opponent was a late-season struggling New York Jets team, who were 10-6 in 1986. They then won their first playoff game to face the Browns in the divisional playoffs.
Despite being major underdogs, the Jets took the Browns to overtime — they actually appeared to have the game won — before losing on a dramatic Browns field goal.
Do you see what I’m getting at?
Is Tom Brady the next John Elway?
The Steelers have won a franchise-record 15 games in the regular season and squeaked through one in the playoffs.
Why do I think the next game might be the toughest?
Plot: Love square consisting of Anna (Julia Roberts), Alice (Natalie Portman), Dan (Jude Law) and Larry (Clive Owen.)
Best Part: All of these actors are very nice to look at. Set in London, with the two Brits and two Yanks. The beginning is very entertaining to watch unfold as the foursome meets.
Worst Part: I was not expecting the graphic sexual descriptions and depictions. A little uncomfortable to watch. The timeshifting makes the plot confusing.
Left Me Feeling: Guilty. Confused. What is the point of this movie -- that people in relationships are absurd and controlling and continually hurt each other on purpose?
Deep Thoughts: Can you really just feel your love for someone draining out of you because of something they do? Do some people need to cheat because the guilt of doing so is a turn on?
Plot: The interesting and sometimes insane life of Howard Hughes.
Best Part: Hughes has periods of manic genius which are fun and impressive to watch as he conquers Hollywood and aeronautics. The cameos are also fantastic: Gwen Stefani as Jean Harlow, Jude Law as Errol Flynn, Cate Blanchett as Katherine Hepburn (brilliant!), Kate Beckinsale as Ava Gardner.
Worst Part: Watching Hughes fall into obsessive-compulsive self-destruction is painful and scary at times.
Left Me Feeling: Wow, I really didn't know anything about Howard Hughes, and now I do.
Deep Thoughts: Maybe the truly brilliant are not that far from madness. Is that acceptable, so that their ideas and dreams can be brought to fruition? Maybe if they have money, that makes the difference. The crazy rich have it much easier than the crazy poor.