The Hope for a Better Tomorrow

Some of you may have noticed (and some of you have even pointed it out) that when I write about something, I'm very often writing about something else as well. I tend to find a (somewhat) larger meaning behind whatever it is I happen to be writing about. This is not accidental. If I'm writing about something, I care about and feel it's interesting enough write about. If I care about, there is probably a deeper reasoning, even if I don't immediately understand what it is. Whether it's the state of television, John Lackey's histrionics (to be fair, I'm completely on his side about the recent events involving text messages and his personal life, but I wrote about him before all of that), or the coming technological revolution, writing helps (and forces) me to figure out those undiscovered connections. It's one of the reasons I enjoy writing as much as I do. I bring this up because this is not going to be one of those posts.

I love football. Sundays from September through early February are some of the best days of the year. I play in a flag football league that has given me the knees of someone significantly older, but I can't actually imagine the day when I'll decide I don't want to do it anymore. I'll watch almost any NFL game, and despite the fact that I will always talk about how inferior it is in any conversation, I tend to catch myself watching a handful of NCAA games each season as well.

As much as I love football, I love the Patriots more. I know there is a general criticism about people who love their team/s more than the given sport itself, and how that typically means those people don't really like whatever sport is in question, but I feel I've adequately explained myself here. It can ruin my whole day when they lose. I realize this is ridiculous. I understand that the outcome of one football game (or one football season, or all football seasons, etc...) has almost no actual impact on anything. That's fine. I'm still going to love football. And the Patriots.

Right now, the Patriots are making it difficult.

This past Sunday, Tom Brady completed 66.7 percent of his pass attempts, threw for 387 yards and 4 touchdowns. All fantastic numbers, except that with it he threw 4 interceptions. These were far from the only mistakes made by New England, and the defense has to take some of the blame for the 17 points they allowed after those interceptions. (Buffalo actually scored 24 points off the turnovers, but one of the interceptions was returned for a touchdown. Hard to pin that on the defense.) It was a bad day for the whole team, which happens from time to time. It was a bad day for Brady, which almost never happens.

Let's get one thing straight right now. Tom Brady is the best quarterback New England fans will ever see in their lifetime. There has been a seemingly endless debate about where Brady ranks among QBs all time, or even among his generation. (For the record, I still consider him to be the best of his generation. When given the weapons, he put up record-setting numbers that Manning only came close to, while also having the ability to come through when it mattered most. Say what you want about the Patriots recent playoff struggles, but Brady still has a 3-1 edge in Super Bowl rings. Brees is a great quarterback, but I don't think he's in the same class as Manning or Brady, and Aaron Rodgers needs to keep it up for a bit longer before I'm ready to really put him in this conversation. But that's just me.) Wherever you stand on Brady among the other greats, there has never been another New England quarterback who has been even close to this level, and the odds of seeing another player of his talent come along are astronomical. I've loved the Tom Brady era, knowing how special it is to watch one of the best ever lead your team.

Which is why Sunday's loss to the Bills is so upsetting. In terms of this season, it's not exactly the worst thing that could happen. It is a loss to a divisional opponent, and it puts New England a game behind Buffalo for first place in the division (and, technically, the conference and league). But it's only the third game of the season, and the teams play each other again. The discouraging thing is how they lost. They lost because Brady didn't have his best day, and this team wasn't good enough to pick him up. The offense still moved the ball well, when it was able to maintain possession, and scored points, but the defense couldn't come up with a stop when it needed one. If 31 points isn't enough to win a game, your defense isn't good enough. Again, it's one game, so maybe this is all a little bit of an over-reaction, but I'm afraid that it's not.

I was talking about this current Patriots team with a friend of mine before the game against Buffalo, and I told her that I felt like the offense looked to be good enough that it will cover for the defense most games, hopefully while the defense develops and comes together. Her response was, "sounds like a typical Patriots team to me." I was depressed by how accurate this statement was. When the Patriots were winning Super Bowls, they did it with a controlled offense and a defense that was always in the top-10 of points allowed. There are some who think the offense has become too much of the priority in recent seasons. That a high-octane offense can't win in the playoffs. Maybe, but I don't agree with that. Teams can win with that kind of offense, but they need the defense to go with it. Teams need to ability to stop their opponent, and at the very least, have the kind of second-gear or play-making ability to come up with a big stop when the game is on the line. The Patriots haven't had that for a while, with some pretty clear examples. (If you don't remember the '06 AFC Championship or the '07 Super Bowl, too bad, I'm not going to torture myself and anyone reading this more than I already have to.)

The NFL has become a passing league. This seems to be common knowledge. In 1991, teams threw for 199.1 yards per game (ypg). In 2010, that number has increased to 221.6 ypg. Through the first three weeks of this season, the league is on pace for an average of 245.5 ypg. In the past 4 full seasons, 2008 had the lowest average, with quarterbacks throwing for 211.3 ypg. In the 16 seasons prior to that stretch, only 3 of them had a higher average.

Going back a few years ago, many teams would try to establish a running game to open up their passing game. In response to this, a defense would try to stop the run, forcing a team to throw out of necessity, not by choice. With many teams choosing to pass regardless of their ability to run the ball (Indianapolis, New England, teams that want to be Indianapolis and New England), defenses now have to focus on stopping the pass first, and most defensive coaches (and analysts, talking-heads, and casual sports fans) seem to agree that the best way to slow down a passing offense is to pressure the quarterback. The numbers back it up. Going back to 2003, only 2 teams have ranked lower than 11^th in the NFL in sack percentage (how often a defense sacks the opposing QB on a passing play): Indianapolis in 2006 (22^nd) and New Orleans in 2009 (27^th). In '06, Indianapolis had been questioned all season long about their defense, and whether it was good enough to win a Super Bowl. They made a few moves, tightened things up, and were a different team by the time the playoffs rolled around. The new defense shut teams down and they were unstoppable (well, the new defense along with pumped in crowd noise and the hottest stadium in the NFL, but whatever). New Orleans was a little different. They didn’t get much pressure the quarterback during their Super Bowl season, but they had a secondary that was effective (ranked 3^rd in opposing QB rating) and pulled off big plays when they needed them (Tracy Porter had late interceptions in the NFC Championship game and the Super Bowl, both of which effectively sealed wins for New Orleans).

New England right now rates 28^th in sack percentage and 22^nd in opposing passer rating. Yes, we’re only three games in. Yes, there is plenty of time for them to change it. I’m just worried (and somewhat certain) that they won’t. And I feel that way because Belichick hasn’t called an aggressive blitz in what feels like years. This team doesn’t attack the quarterback. It chooses to instead drop men into coverage in the hopes of confusing opposing quarterbacks. I’m not trying to question Belichick. He is, without argument, the greatest coach in my lifetime. I trust that he has a better reason for crafting the defense that he does than I would have for questioning it. Maybe it’s as simple as he doesn’t feel he has the players for it (a criticism which would seem valid, but would also point out his recent track record with draft choices and free agent signings, at least among certain positions). It’s entirely possible that the sack rate stays the same, but McCourty and Bodden recover from their early season struggles, the younger guys/first-year starters develop, and the pass defense gets better that way.

But it might not. And if it doesn’t, the likely outcome is that another year of Tom Brady’s career will be lost. And that would be a shame. Because as rare as it is to see Brady have a game like he did against the Bills, it’s nothing compared to how rare it is to see Tom Brady.

(Forgot to include this. All stats in this post came from teamrankings.com and pro-football-reference.com)

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Depending on who you ask, autumn has already started in New England. Officially, seasons are based on the length of the day, which means it won't really be fall until September 23 and the autumnal equinox, but for many people, summer ended with their Labor Day cookouts and beach trips, filled with grilled meats and beer, that suntan lotion smell of coconut and medicine left to be washed off in their morning shower.

By it's nature, autumn is somewhat of a second-class season. Summer and winter get top billing. People wait all year so they can do things that can only be done in those seasons (This isn't entirely accurate, as things like skiing/snowboarding and going to the beach start and end outside of their respective seasons, but people associate these activities with these seasons, and that's sort of all that matters.). By human nature, we tend to focus on the extremes of any particular group (see also: celebrity train wrecks, reality television {some overlap between these two}, weather patterns, the tea party). Spring and fall are basically just there to get us from one to the other.

Between the two backup seasons, fall gets the bum deal. Despite being little more than constant rain and pollen, spring gets everyone thinking about summer and how exciting that will be. By the time fall rolls around, summer is over, the beaches are closing, before you know it winter will be here, and no one likes winter (This is also an inaccurate statement, except no one is excited about winter until it's right on top of us. Ask someone in August how they feel about winter and they hate it, because at that moment, all winter means is that we will be cold and covered in snow.). Autumn has long been used as a metaphor for aging and sadness. The prime of the year is behind us, and all we have to do is look around to see reminders that we are all withering towards a barren and cold conclusion, an inevitable end on the horizon. All the new life and rebirth of spring has run it's course, and fall is just our small chance to brace for the coming winter.

This seems like a good time to mention that autumn is, without question, my favorite season. And not because I get some perverse kick out of all the crap I just mentioned. There are reasons on top of reasons that I love fall. As soon as the heat and humidity of summer breaks, I feel like a different person. It's almost as if I spend most of the summer thinking only of ways to keep myself from turning into a puddle, and fall allows me to start thinking about everything else again. Last night was the best night of sleep I've had in months, and that is due almost entirely to the cool breeze coming through my window. It was flat-out cold in my bedroom this morning, and I loved it.

Fall also brings with it the start of football. I love football, love my New England Patriots, and love watching Belichick and Brady be the best at what they do. More than that, though, I love the Sundays I spend at my grandfather's house watching the games with him and his son, three generations of Belair men together, watching their team, eating and drinking and bs'ing about whatever it is we decide to bs about. If you've kept up with these posts at all, you'll know that I have a certain relationship with sports and my father. Adding my grandfather to the mix is about the only thing that could make it better.

In the autumn of 2003, I was going through basic training for the U.S. Air Force, which takes place in San Antonio, Texas. Autumn in San Antonio is a lot like summer in New England, only hotter. I tried to explain what I was missing out on back home, and most of my fellow trainees had no idea what I was talking about. There were a few guys from New England, though, and they all knew what I knew: there is nothing like fall in New England. Forget what you've heard about the leaves and any sort of festival based around candy apples or pumpkins. All fun things in their own right, but their is a smell to autumn here that cannot be described. It's crisp and refreshing and cool. I know that all sounds like a terrible add for a Sprite knockoff, but I don't know how else to describe it, and I know that those words don't do it justice.

While I was in basic, my significant other at the time wrote to me regularly. Mail is absolutely the best part of basic training. The days when the mail gets backed up (you are the lowest priority mail recipients on base) are awful, but are made up for on the days when you go back to your bunk with a stack of letters. One of the letters she sent me was about how the leaves were changing and how nice everything looked. She knew how much I loved autumn, and sent a second envelope along containing a few leaves she had found and thought I would like. A small piece of home while I was away. It was sweet and touching and I loved it and loved her for doing it. The rest of our flight (the name for a group of trainees when you're in basic) finally began to understand how much we loved fall in New England when my "letter" became the most popular thing in the room, at least among the guys from the area. Everyone took their time with it, each of them examining the leaves and breathing in the scent inside the envelope. If you know the scent I've been talking about, this won't seem weird to you at all.

I'm sure there will be moments this autumn when the cool air turns to cold and I'll miss the summer sun. Or a night that seems to come too early, and the realization that it will only continue to get earlier for the coming months. It's then that I'll try to think about Sunday afternoons, and of the changing leaves, and of New England air floating through Texas. Autumn is my season. An in-between season defined by what it isn't, but knows what it has to offer.