The Unbearable Insanity of Being Ron Artest

To clarify, I am simultaneously referencing at least two (and possibly three) different things with this title: The Unbearable Lightness of Being and Being John Malkovich (also, possibly the Cliffs of Insanity from The Princess Bride).

Now, I'm virtually certain that anyone who happens to stumble upon this blog and has any knowledge of professional basketball and/or pop culture has at least a passing familiarity with the juggernaut of psychosis known as Ron Artest. This is a man who requested a leave of absence (from a professional sports team!) in order to promote his own record label, which, incidentally, bears the truly awful moniker "Tru Warrier." Misspellings do not guarantee coolness, kids. This is also a man who maintains that a kid he knew in Queens is the best baller on the planet, and that "Five Dollar Footlong" and "Free Credit Report Dot Com" are potential hit singles.

But, what's most important at the moment from my perspective is the fact that Ron Artest is about to embark on a new project: a reality show that "will document the ups and downs of Artest's life, allowing him to 'make amends for past transgressions,' according to E1 Entertainment." I'm not sure where this phenomenon originated, but it seems to me that we, as a culture, have never been more interested in famous people apologizing for their actions. Off the top of my head, these are the most pertinent examples: a.) An actor on Grey's Anatomy (I don't know who, because I've never seen the show) checks himself into rehab for making a homophobic remark (I don't think addiction works that way); b.) Tiger Woods evidently gives Nike the go-ahead to produce a commercial in which he is apparently berated by his deceased father for cheating on his wife; c.) Kanye West apologizes for interrupting a schlocky country singer's award acceptance speech (sure, it was rude, but was Taylor Swift about to say anything life-changing?); d.) perhaps most disturbingly, the E! channel actually has a list of the top celebrity apologies.

Artest, it's true, has one major black mark to make amends for, the infamous Palace Brawl. But his (supposed) attempt to do so smacks of insincerity, just like virtually every other instance in recent memory. For whatever reason, a public, heavily-publicized apology remains a popular occurrence, despite the fact that no one ever seems to be satisfied with them. It seems that everyone can recognize the vapidity of such events, but no one seems to let that deter them from seeking more. I can think of a couple of factors that might go into this, but I am still curious as to the real root of the matter. These are the reasons I can think of:
1.) Celebrity apologies feed our militant democratic inclinations. According to a probably legendary story, one Greek tyrant asked another for advice on how to govern. The other man brought him to a field and knocked the heads off of any grain stalks that were much taller than average. I think we have a similar attitude in America: we resent superiority, whether meritorious or otherwise. Thus, seeing a figure of high standing dragged through the mud a little provides us with some cheap schadenfreude.
2.) We are a society obsessed with hypocrisy, anxious to find it in others and deny it in ourselves. Have you ever noticed how many music groups get accused of "selling out"? Or how eager people from all places in society are to denounce a corrupt religious figure or politician? In many ways, I think this is the other side of the "success in life means being yourself" coin. We attach a religious significance to being genuine and following individualistic urges, and we therefore hate artificiality in all forms. Watching people offer insincere apologies offers us the chance to feel morally superior, even when we're not.
3.) It appeals to us in the same way that an accident does. It's horribly uncomfortable, but it's not happening to us, and that makes it valid entertainment. It's a semi-painful form of voyeuristic pleasure, but the knowledge that we're not in any way related to the person expressing contrition, except by the wires and glass of our televisions, makes the pain more bearable and the whole scenario a bit more unreal.

All this being said, I'm probably going to watch at least one episode of Ron-Ron's show. It seems like the American thing to do.

This Is Apparently A Real Thing

According to Wikipedia, in World War II, the Soviet Union trained dogs to run at tanks with explosives strapped to them. After it proved infeasible to have the dogs drop the charges and run away, they started blowing them up along with the bombs. I really didn't need another reason to believe the USSR was terrible, but it happened.

It's So True!

El Ciclon de Guantanamo

I watched the recent fight between Yuriorkis Gamboa and Roger Mtagwa this morning, and I was struck by the thought that it might have been a forecast of the upcoming Pacquiao-Clottey match. Much like Pacquiao, Gamboa is possessed of extraordinary athleticism, blurring hand speed and shocking knockout power. There are differences- Gamboa is right-handed, and fights in a style simultaneously more careless and more traditional than Pacquiao- but the similarities are profound. Each man is a combination puncher, each an offensive fighter, and each has a particular bearing and ring presence that is unmistakable.

Mtagwa also bears some resemblance to Clottey, as both depend primarily on toughness and force of will over technical mastery or explosiveness. And, much like Mtagwa, I believe that Clottey will be dominated and, ultimately, knocked out by his opponent. Pacquiao has too much talent, too much physical superiority, and too much momentum. There is no one this side of Mayweather who could even slow down the Pacquiao train at this point.

But that's not what this post is about. This is about Yuriorkis Gamboa, one of the most exciting young fighters in the world. This is about the otherworldly magnificence of his attack, and the effortlessness of his power. This is about the elegance and anger of his fighting, the smoothness of his motion, and the absolute confidence that he displays.

Gamboa does not load up his punches. That is the first, most important point I can make about him. With smooth, fluid combinations- and seemingly without strain- Gamboa produces exceptional results. He never once seemed to reach back for anything extra against Mtagwa, depending instead on his superior speed to bypass Mtagwa's defense and dropped him several times before the referee finally called the thing.

Gamboa resembles no one so much as Roy Jones. That is the second point. He has a particular arrogance that may end up undoing him- it was less evident in this fight, but, in the past, he has refused to keep his hands up- but, until it does, it makes his offensive artistry all the more spectacular. I don't know if I'm being hyperbolic or not, but he has an almost regal bearing in the ring. He looked firmly in command throughout.

Gamboa has no physical deficiencies that I can see. That is the last point. He has some of the heaviest hands I've ever seen (they must be granite, given how little strain goes into the knockout punches), he is cat quick, and moves slickly and smoothly. He has all the tools to be not only a transcendent boxer-puncher, but to be an excellent defender as well. We'll have to see whether the defense will come, but against Mtagwa he had no need.

It was an impressive display, and I think Gamboa might be what the lower weight classes need to reinvigorate them with what appears to be a permanent exodus by Pacquiao. Bienvenidos a the big time, Yuri.

Because It Needs Saying

Portrait of a Division as a Young Man Part IV: AFC South

I've decided that I will not be doing an NFC equivalent of this, so this will wrap up the divisional series. Anyway, to business:

The AFC South is the most one-sided division in the AFC, if not the NFL as a whole. Last year's (apparently) fluky Tennessee team notwithstanding, the Colts almost always have a clear edge in the division race and have for years. The one constant for the Colts- and, by extension, the division- has been Peyton Manning. No big surprise, there. Other factors come and go for Indianapolis- the running game (with Edge), defense (good periodically, terrible often), Marvin Harrison, Tony Dungy- but Manning has been the steady hand, as consistently good on the field as he is consistently annoying in advertisements. The Colts' modus operandi is the shootout: they favor the no-huddle, heavy passing, and, defensively, rely on hit-or-miss tactics (namely, Dwight Freeney and Robert Mathis rushing the passer, when each is severely undersized and terrible against the run). This leaves the South in essentially two camps: the Texans and Colts, on the one hand, follow roughly the same model (with vastly different results), while the Jaguars and Titans both depend on a more conservative approach, with defense and ball control taking the forefront.

My prediction:
1. Colts, 14-2
2. Houston, 9-7
3. Jacksonville, 8-8
4. Tennessee, 6-10
I expect the Colts to very seriously contend for the Super Bowl spot- they ought to at least reach the conference championship game, and I figure they have as good a shot at the league championship as anybody, if not better. They've struggled recently, but a good loss should get that out of their systems. If they drop one they should win, expect them to come out strong in the playoffs. I think Indy matches up well against the Bengals and Chargers, but might have a bit more trouble with the Patriots or Steelers. We'll see, I suppose.

Players

Division's signature: Reggie Wayne, WR, Indianapolis Colts. Wayne exemplifies the importance of the passing game to this division, and he is just about as consistent personally as the Colts are collectively. He has a steady, excellent game, and that's just what's expected of him.

No honorable mentions this time- my brain am not working too goodly.

Best overall: Jeff Saturday, C, Colts. As good a player at his position as anyone, Saturday is very tough and very, very smart. he's been doing this for a long time, folks, and few do it nearly so well.

Well, it should be no surprise that my next pick is...

MVP: Peyton Manning, QB, Colts. That's right, a Colts whitewash. Eh. They're the only team I think is worth having an MVP in this division. Still doesn't mean I like this guy.

Portrait of a Division As a Young Man Part III: AFC West

The AFC West, more than any other division, has been defined in the recent past by its absolute lack of clutch play. Last year, the Broncos had a historic collapse and ultimately ceded the division title to the Chargers- and speaking of the Chargers, few teams have had as much talent and as little postseason success as San Diego. Only a few years ago, San Diego was in possession of the game's best receiving tight end (Antonio Gates), its best running back (LaDainian Tomlinson), and a quarterback in the top handful of passers (Drew Brees). Despite that, and a dominating front seven on defense, the Chargers failed and ultimately let Brees walk in favor of Philip Rivers. Don't mistake me, Rivers is a decent player, but Brees has since joined the trifecta of elite quarterbacks- Manning and Brady being the other two. So, welcome to Chokesville! I present to you- the AFC West.

My Prediction:
1. San Diego Chargers, 11-5
2. Denver Broncos, 10-6
3. Kansas City Chiefs, 4-12
4. Oakland Raiders, 3-13
That's right, folks, I expect another epic choke by the Broncos, who currently have the same record as the Chargers. I expect Denver to blink, and the Chargers, I think, will more or less be handed the division. The Raiders and Chiefs are terrible as always, and I really could care less if I end up being accurate on those two. I do think that Denver will get a wildcard spot, along with Pittsburgh (since they lost to Cincinnati and probably invalidated my previous prediction for the North). I don't know that either of these teams will do much in the postseason- their histories are against them. In fact, I would be highly un-surprised if both lost in the first round.

Players (again, no repeats)

Division's signature: LaDainian Tomlinson, HB, San Diego Chargers. I'm sticking with this pattern of good but choke-tastic, so I figured I'd go with the man who had about five or six seasons of utterly dominant play but consistently gets injured or plays ineffectively in the playoffs. Tomlinson used to be the best combination of agility, power, and speed in the league, but has quickly degenerated into a Bill Walton-like figure, valuable when healthy but oft-injured.
Honorable mentions: Philip Rivers, QB, Chargers, who is another choke artist in the playoffs; Shawne Merriman, LB, Chargers- he hasn't been the same this year.

Best overall: Elvis Dumervil, OLB, Denver Broncos. This one is a bit tricky, because the mantle of best player in the West has changed quite a bit lately- not too long ago, I would have been tempted to name Merriman, Gates, or Tomlinson, but Dumervil was on a real tear this year. That's about it- I don't have much else to say about him.
Honorable mentions: Antonio Gates, TE, Chargers; Brandon Marshall, WR, Broncos.

MVP: Jamal Williams, NT, Chargers. This might seem like an odd choice for MVP- how many defensive lineman ever get consideration for the real award, let alone nose tackles?- but the fact is that Jamal Williams is the biggest difference-maker for the Chargers. When he plays, they have a dominant run defense: the man is almost impossible to move off the ball, even with two or three blockers (that 350-pound frame comes in very handy for that), and he is surprisingly quick for such a large man. I think the difference is especially evident if you compare two significant games against Pittsburgh from the last few years- in October of 2006, the Steelers could do nothing right on offense. Not even Alan Faneca and Jeff Hartings could do anything to slow down Williams, and they were each among the top two or three at their positions that year. Williams had six tackles and a sack, despite the notorious difficulty of producing any sort of numbers from the nose. This year, the Chargers-Steelers game became a shootout, with Rashard Mendenhall rushing for well over a hundred yards- and Jamal Williams did not play. Williams changes games, make no mistake.
Honorable mention: Kyle Orton, QB, Broncos, shockingly. He actually played very well through the first half, before starting to unravel against Pittsburgh. I would also put Rivers here, but he is a better fit for signature player.

Floyd and Paulie

I just read over on The Rumble that Paulie Malignaggi (who, if you don't know, is a loudmouthed junior welterweight) and Floyd Mayweather, Sr., plus some others, have been throwing around steroid accusations about Pacquiao. I found the most asinine of them all to come from Malignaggi, who said he wasn't sure if someone of Pac's size could take punches from Cotto without chemical enhancement. For one thing, the only theoretical improvements steroids could make to your chin would be psychological (more confidence) or minuscule (a slightly stronger neck would prevent the head from whipping around quite so much). And Cotto didn't really throw much to Pacquiao's body, so stronger abdominals would have done practically nothing for Manny. Mayweather, Sr., said he wouldn't step into the ring with Pacquiao even if he was sure he could "whip" him, which, to me, sounds like an excuse established in advance for Floyd, Jr.

Still, steroid accusations are unusual for boxers, because, with the exception of heavyweights, most fighters do not want to gain weight, in order to stay at the lowest weight class they can. Steroids would be counterproductive, especially because the primary advantage derived from them is the ability to recover faster between workouts. Steroids do nothing to supercharge existing muscles (which, based on depictions in pop culture, a lot of people think). They only allow you to add more muscle, faster. Admittedly, Pacquiao's ability to move up so fluidly in weight looks a bit odd, but it's worth remembering the following two things:
1.) He has been a professional boxer since his late teens. That means he has been in training for over a decade, and, what's more, in training to fight at low weights. It takes a lot of effort to maintain a body weight of 120 pounds or less for a man, even a short man with a slight frame. It's not so very unusual that someone whose livelihood depends on low weight would weigh an artificially low amount.
2.) He was, in all likelihood, malnourished as a young man. This is a common problem with poor athletes- before they start to make money, they often have an underdeveloped musculature. Take a look at the Nike Hoop Summit games- almost invariably, big men who come from impoverished nations will be disturbingly skinny. Pacquiao fought professionally for the first time at a weight of 106 pounds- that is simply not a feasible weight for 99% of men on earth. It's not unnatural that he's been able to add weight, given that his frame has probably been capable of supporting the extra mass all along.

If I'm wrong, and he has been juicing, I'd be more than willing to admit being mistaken, but it's often irritating to me that people choose to ignore the obvious suspects (in the NFL, for instance) and go after the most unlikely of targets- a small Filipino prizefighter, for example.

Hyperopia

We said that Manny Pacquiao could not do it. We said that he could not move up in weight and still expect to compete- not when he started his professional career at 106 pounds. We said that Oscar De La Hoya was a washed-up old man, and that beating him didn't prove anything. We said that Ricky Hatton would beat him up, Ricky, who was bigger and stronger and heavier, whose chin was iron. Pacquiao would be unable to hurt him.

Well, no- he hurt Ricky worse than anyone ever had. But "Fatton" was a perfect match for Pacquiao's aggressive, slashing style. Pacquiao wouldn't have a chance against a more technical opponent, especially one who was even heavier. Cotto would beat him. Cotto would reassert the normal workings of the boxing ladder. Cotto would prove that the big man still has the advantage. Well, no- Pacquiao was simply too fast and too explosive for Cotto.

And, I suppose, a few of us might be saying that Floyd Mayweather is too smart, too technically perfect, and athletic enough to pick away at Pacquiao until the end. He won't be a rough, unpolished brawler like Hatton, and he won't be stupid enough to trade with Pacquiao like Cotto. He'll poke and peck, and Manny will be forced into inefficacy.

But I think this is symptomatic of two things: first, that Pacquiao amazingly, improbably remains underrated, and second, that we have a tendency to assume that no current fighters are as talented as the boxers of the semi-legendary past. We never expect to see another Muhammad Ali, and that might be true. But, if it is true, it is more a truth about the heavyweight division than about boxing in general. And if we assume that boxing is dying out, that only proves our ethnocentrism: boxing is dying in America, driven out by the ascendancy of football, basketball, and (increasingly) mixed martial arts. But boxing is growing in eastern Europe and remains popular in Latin America and other locations often overlooked by the American crowd.

There is, I think, a similar tendency in almost all fields that acquire a devoted fan base, in sports, film, literature, and music. Few people, if any, would say that Michael Jordan is likely to come again, or Jim Brown, or William Shakespeare, or Elvis Presley. There is something inherent in the human psyche that makes the past seem brighter than the future. But sometimes, every so often, a piece of that legend will resurface and make itself known. I believe that Manny Pacquiao is like that. The most obvious comparison is probably Roberto Duran, a lightweight with a deserved reputation for punching power but an overlooked set of technical skills. But I'm not even sure that such lofty praise is an exact fit for Pacquiao- in terms of his fighting style, he is very much like Duran, but his career arc is probably unique in boxing history. The only close analogue I can think of is Roy Jones, Jr., who rose from middleweight to heavyweight and won a title. Even this, though, falls so far short of the reality of Pacquiao- the fight with Cotto occurred at almost half again his original fighting weight, nearly 150 pounds against just over 100 in his debut, and he has won a title in just about every division between flyweight and welterweight, and he has done so in dominating fashion, forcing De La Hoya to throw in the towel, scoring one of the most brutal knockouts imaginable over Hatton, and forcing the referee to step in against Cotto in the twelfth, though, really, it could have been stopped in any of the last three or four rounds. Pacquiao is a genuine, living, breathing piece of history, whether he beats Mayweather or not. He has just put together one of the most incredible strings of victories in the history of the sport, and that ought to be recognized, because it will certainly be remembered.

Fight Night

Given the hugeness of this event, I'm going to be doing a round by round sort of recap of the Pacquiao-Cotto fight. My prediction is a TKO victory for Pacquiao late in the eleventh round.

Round 1: Mostly a feeling out sort of a round, but the last twenty seconds or so became electric. Previous to that point, I had seen only one attempt at a power punch, a slashing right hook by Pac-man, but during the waning seconds, both fighters opened up and threw viciously. Not many of the blows landed, but it was the most exciting part of the round. I give the first to Cotto on the basis of his jabbing and a good body blow or two that landed late. He's looking to be the more disciplined thus far, with Pacquiao more active. (10-9, Cotto)

Round 2: Pacquiao appears to be trying to draw Cotto into a more open fight. He's throwing and spinning around Miguel, who seems to have opened up his offense a bit. Cotto landed a brutal combination to the ribs late, and has Manny in the corner briefly, but Pac escapes and the round probably goes to him- although I think it could be either way (typing and watching is hard for me to do at the same time, especially since I had to recap the first during this round). I'll try to keep up better next round. (19-19)

Round 3: Cotto looks to take it to Manny early this round, with jabs and straight rights. About thirty seconds in, and Manny is fighting back a bit more. Little knockdown for Pac at about fifty seconds in- Cotto's gloves brushed the canvas, but he did not go down. He has Manny on the ropes, but that's a good escape by the Filipino. Manny, as always, looks to value aggression over defense here. Ooh, strong hooks to the body, but blocked by Pacquiao. They're really throwing leather now, with less than a minute left. I guess the edge has to go to Manny because of the knockdown, but the most significant punches have been landed by Cotto, particularly after the 2:30 mark. If not for that knockdown, this is Cotto's fight so far, but as is, Manny might be as much as three points up. (29-27, Pacquiao)

Round 4: Cotto should be looking to box Manny, I think, to make sure he gets a point back. And, yeah, he seems to be working the jab and left to the body. Manny has been backing away from Cotto to this point, all through the fight. Some brawling now, about halfway through. Oh man, does Pacquiao have fast hands. He's thrown some mostly-deflected flurries, but that's probably going to look good to the judges. Cotto has him on the ropes now, and this is where he wants to be. It looked to me as though the hooks were getting in under Manny's elbows into his midsection. Oh man, another knockdown for Pacquiao. His power isn't as consistent as Cotto's, but it is a lot more explosive. Round ends, and, once again, Pacquiao might have stolen a round on the basis of a knockdown- I certainly thought Cotto had been winning until the end. Overall, to this point, it seems as though Manny has been able to force Cotto into a brawl, and Cotto has been too eager to do so. He needs to work his technical boxing and be more patient. (39-35, Pacquiao)

Round 5: It's undeniably Manny's fight to this point, due to those knockdowns. Cotto doesn't really look hurt, though. He's looking good early in this round. This has had a really fast pace so far, which probably favors Pacquiao. Looks like Manny is smelling a little blood, now, a minute in. He's getting more and more aggressive, and Cotto has not been able to really make him pay. Cotto's back to working the jab and the body hooks. Looks like he kind of winged Manny, but didn't hurt him. Cotto's slugging too much- I think he's playing into Manny's hands. Manny is once again on the ropes, but he fights off them with a good flurry of uppercuts and hooks. Manny has started to dance a bit, trying to make Cotto work at his pace. This is not the sort of fight I thought it would be. I expected it tighter. I really don't know who this round goes to, but the pace was definitely in Pacquiao's favor. The judges might see Cotto as more effective, however. (49-45, Pacquiao)

Round 6: Cotto is staggered early, but it might just have been a slip- I couldn't see what happened. Cotto is stalking Manny right now, but Pacquiao won't let him get too comfortable. Manny just ripped him to the ribs with a decent hook. Back and forth to this point, and Cotto briefly switches to southpaw, before going right back to orthodox. Manny's had all the significant shots so far, a bit over half done. Cotto looks uneasy, and Pacquiao is backing him up into the ropes. Clinch, and break. Oh, Cotto is not looking too good. Pacquaio's speed looks to be telling. Another back-and-forth switch to southpaw for Cotto. Decent left to the cheek from Cotto. Pacquaio is roughing him up though, against the ropes, but the situation reverses again and the round ends. Back and forth, wild round, but it goes to Manny on my card. (59-54, Pacquiao)

Round 7: Missed the opening of this round, so we'll see what I can figure out. For the most part, it looks pretty even. From what I can see, Manny is pecking away at Cotto's guard, and with decent effectiveness, it seems. Cotto has been unable to hurt the smaller man. Pacquiao has not had that problem. Cotto looks to open up a bit, but then backs off. Manny is now starting to stalk him, and has hit him with some decent shots, including a thudding right to the belly just now. Looks to be his round, though I missed over a minute. (69-63, Pacquiao)

Round 8: Right now, I have Cotto down six points, and it looks bad for the Puerto Rican. Pacquiao has had speed and pop on his side to date, with Cotto's superior size and strength being reduced to plodding jabs and blocked power punches. We start, and Cotto looks a little bit anxious. He's firing the jab out nicely. Cotto opens up again, but it looks like "sound and fury, signifying nothing." Manny's right has been a little more active than I expected, and it's caused Cotto to develop a quasi-reflexive shoulder twitch. Cotto does not look good. He's backing and covering up. His offense has been handcuffed by Pacquaio's, although I don't think he's been seriously hurt. He's being smothered, mostly. Ooh, he got tagged a little bit, but the legs are steady. He's forced to clinch to get separated. Manny all the way in this round. I think the biggest question is no longer whether Manny wins, but whether he finishes Cotto or not. If he stops him, I think he earns some serious points toward all-time great status. (79-72, Pacquiao)

Round 9: Cotto looks urgent now. He knows he needs something drastic. Cotto has to clinch to save himself against the ropes. Oh, Pacquiao is swinging wide now, and Cotto is just holding on. he's being dominated. I'm expecting a TKO in the next couple of rounds. It's getting so close to a stoppage. The crowd knows it, too. It's looking very ominous for Cotto. Manny has looked dominant throughout, with only a couple of rounds even close. Cotto looks frozen out there. He has no answer whatsoever to Pacquiao's athleticism. (89-81, Pacquiao)

Round 10: Cotto needs to come out and swing. He has nothing left, and nothing much to lose. I think I'm only just beginning to appreciate what we have in Manny Pacquiao. Anyway, Cotto does look more aggressive right now, hoping to stretch out Manny before the end. To his credit, he doesn't look half bad, either. Pacquiao is starting to move back into the driver's seat at about a minute in, though. Cotto does seem to have slowed Manny's barrage, but now he's stuck being a pure boxer, and that's not going to save him. Pacquiao with a combination with just under a minute remaining. Pacquiao has definitely slowed, though whether he's preparing for another flurry or actually tired is unclear. Cotto doesn't look especially tired. Not as dominant a round, but still one that I think goes to Pacquiao. (99-90, Pacquiao)

Round 11: This is the one I predicted to end it. We'll see- Cotto might have used up whatever he had in the last round to keep Pacquiao off of him, but Pac also looks to have emptied his gas tank a bit. Manny might be content to coast now, although that doesn't seem like his personality. Pacquio ripped him there with a right-left. Cotto keeps witching his stance- that's the third there-and-back stance switch for him. Manny is stalking once again, and Cotto seems to be trying to hold on. This might be it, this might be it. Cotto was against the ropes, but he's back off. Pacquiao back to the hunt. Cotto has stayed out of really serious trouble so far. Pacquiao opens up again, but Cotto's chin is still holding up. Cotto avoids Manny's wide swings. Looks like he's survived my guess. Yep, there's the bell. He did lose the round thoroughly, though. (109-99, Pacquiao)

Round 12: Cotto has essentially two options now. He can either forgo defense altogether and let loose, hoping to catch Pacquiao just right, or he can hold on and try to avoid the stoppage. I know which I'd prefer. Manny seems to be pursuing the knockout. He hasn't truly hurt Cotto since the second knockdown- Cotto has had to cover up, but he's managed to absorb most everything. And there's the stoppage! I need to see the replay on that: I couldn't see what led up to it, other than Cotto ducking in the corner. As they shake hands and hug, I can see that Cotto has a gash over the left eye, which suggests either a good right hook, or an awkward left. I want to see the replay of that shot- it seems likely to me that it was one big shot that caused the TKO. I was off by one round, which I don't think is too bad for a fight like this, with so many variables- the catchweight of 145, Cotto's mental state after the shaky Clottey fight, Pacquiao's confidence-versus-complacence questions, and so forth. It looks as though the ref stepped in a bit inappropriately- yes, Cotto, was hurt and ducked down, but he was still fully aware and just trying to protect the eye. Either way, he was knocked down twice and thoroughly beaten. This is crazy: Pacquiao just claimed his seventh title. He started at 112 pounds in 1997, and has claimed more or less every belt on the way up to this current weight class. I think later I'll try to do a post to process this, but for now, I can only say that I would never have believed he could do this before the fight against De La Hoya, or even before the fight against Hatton. After that one, though, and especially this one, I could never bet against him. I'd take him at any weight class he cares to fight in, now. He dominated Cotto completely. Unbelievable.

Note: I guess I was wrong about the cut- it came during the tenth, but it wasn't really bleeding until the final round. I'm still not sure what caused it.

Portrait of a Division As a Young Man Part II: AFC East

Unlike the home of my true NFL love, the Pittsburgh Steelers, the division of my Team Beta has a scatterbrained and eclectic feel to it. Lacking a unified personality, the East has been chaotic over the last few years, due at least in part to the peculiar nature of its premiere team, the New England Patriots (my aforementioned second-place team). The Patriots have not stuck with the same blueprint over the years, like Pittsburgh and Baltimore, and thus, the nature of the East has been fluid and mercurial. In their first championship season (2001 for those with short memories), the Patriots relied primarily on a resilient defense that excelled at keeping the opponent out of the endzone, and, oddly enough, the kicker. Tom Brady played his first games that year, and performed respectably- his numbers were above average, and he certainly did manage to win games. The next few years saw the defense improve to the league's best in terms of scoring, then age and decline, with this year representing a possible renaissance. Brady, meanwhile, developed into a statistical juggernaut while keeping his knack for winning, particularly after the arrival of Randy Moss and Wes Welker, both of whom were acquired for highway robber prices (a fourth and a second round pick, respectively). Simultaneously, the public perception of the team changed just as rapidly: from the heroic underdog, wearing red, white, and blue in the wake of September 11th (and beating the offensive spectacle of the St. Louis Rams), by 2004, they had become a dynastic group of Tim Duncans, for lack of a better term. That image lasted only for a few years, as the team brought on more and more players who had previously had "character issues," epitomized by the arrival of Moss. The metamorphosis was complete after the incident of Spygate, which calls for a separate post to deal with. Suffice it to say, the Patriots became known as a corrupt organization with a sinister, Emperor Palpatine-esque madman at the helm.

During this entire time, the primary challenger in the division has vacillated somewhat, but the major player seems to be the New York Jets, whose play is consistently up-and-down, which is something of a paradox, but not a very interesting one. In any case, the point remains the same: the AFC East is chameleon-like, a shifting, enigmatic beast.

My Prediction
1. New England Patriots, 12-4
2. New York Jets, 9-7
3. Miami Dolphins, 6-10
4. Buffalo Bills, 5-11

I have to believe that the Dolphins will eventually win outside the division, but not enough to matter. The Bills will be fortunate if they win more than another two games, and I don't see the Jets doing significantly better than 5-3 the rest of the way. The Patriots, however, should contend for a bye, although I'm not sure whether they will get it. I don't expect any other team from this division to make the playoffs- it's more likely that the wild cards will come from the North and West, in my opinion (probably whichever of Cincinnati and Pittsburgh flinches and the Chargers in the West, assuming Denver holds on). I half-expect the Patriots to advance to the championship round of the AFC, but I don't quite see them as a Super Bowl contender. At least, not yet.


Players (as with last time, no repeats, even on honorable mention)

Division's signature: Wes Welker, WR, New England Patriots. It might seem odd that I would choose Welker over much more visible players, including the other high-profile receiver in New England, Randy Moss, but the fact is that Welker typifies a certain kind of player who often appears in the East: a player who seems like a gadget-type or otherwise quirky afterthought, but turns out to settle into the perfect role in the perfect system. The others I think fit this bill include Deion Branch and David Givens, both ex-Pats receivers, and, in a different sense, Curtis Martin, who wasn't the most talented running back, but by far the most consistent and reliable, with both the Patriots and the Jets.
Honorable mention: Chad Penning, QB, Miami Dolphins (current injury status notwithstanding). There really wasn't anyone else I could think of that wouldn't be better placed elsewhere.

Best overall: Vince Wilfork, NT, Patriots. There are other tempting prospects, but since (SPOILER- but not really) Tom Brady is an obvious choice for MVP, I found myself thinking more and more of the big dude in the center of the Patriots defense. If Richard Seymour was still in-division, he would have gotten the call, but since his exile to football purgatory (also known as Oakland), Wilfork has taken up his mantle as the go-to-guy on the defensive line. He's massive, tough, and surprisingly athletic, which translates to being immensely difficult to block. Not a whole lot else can be said, other than that he does what he's supposed to consistently, which will not often show up in the box score for a nose tackle.
Honorable mentions: Randy Moss, WR, Patriots; Nick Mangold, C, New York Jets; Allen Faneca, G, Jets

MVP: Tom Brady, QB, Patriots. There's simply no other choice: the nigh-invulnerable Patriots became eminently mortal during his injury absence, and no other quarterback besides Peyton Manning has as cerebral an approach and as complete a grasp of his offense.
Honorable mentions: no one else comes close. Sorry to be so cliche, I suppose.

I also apologize for the clean sweep of Patriots, but I'm just being honest.

Portrait of a Division As a Young Man Part I: AFC North

I'm currently planning to do either a four-part or eight-part series on the various NFL divisions (the number will depend on whether I decide to do the NFC). The AFC North being home to my beloved Steelers, I figured I would start here. Heads up on how this whole series will go: brief opening comments, a projected order of finish, playoff prospects, and then a list of the division's signature, best overall, and most valuable players. So- to business.

The AFC North probably has the strongest personality out of any of the league's divisions, primarily because it has been dominated by two similar teams over the last decade. Either the Steelers and the Ravens have been involved in the divisional race every year in the new millennium, and each of those years, one or the other (or both) has made the playoffs. They have done it primarily through physically imposing 3-4 defenses and power running offenses, although each is undergoing something of an offensive metamorphosis, with Joe Flacco and Ben Roethlisberger assuming greater and greater roles. Thus, the North has been marked by intense, physical play which is only exacerbated by the fact that each team considers each of the others in the division to be a true and hated rival. This is actually a bit unusual: most teams have one or two in-division teams specifically marked as "rivals," but the teams in the North always insist that each of the others is truly an enemy. Thus, even a lopsided pairing like Browns-Ravens or Browns-Steelers takes on psychological import.

My Prediction:
1. Pittsburgh, 11-5
2. Cincinnati, 10-6
3. Baltimore, 9-7
4. Cleveland, 3-13

I expect the Bengals to fall off over the next few weeks, and Baltimore to pick up some slack, although I don't Baltimore will challenge the top two down the stretch, or at least not seriously. I expect Cincinnati to get a wild card slot, but I think they'll lose in the first or second round. I'm afraid of my own bias toward Pittsburgh, so I'll be a bit vaguer with regards to their playoff hopes: I think they'll win one game, meaning they'll either lose in the divisional round (if they don't get a bye) or in the championship game (if they do), likely to either Indianapolis or New England. Now that I've said this, odds are that I will be ridiculously wrong, but I don't particularly care.


Players (Note: no repeats, even for honorable mentions)

Division's signature: Ray Lewis, ILB, Baltimore Ravens. Much as I can't stand Ray-Ray, he has been the most visible player at the division's most critical position, inside linebacker in the 3-4. Defense defines this division, whether as a dominant unit (Pittsburgh, Baltimore) or as an Achilles' heel (Cincinnati, which has seen high-octane offenses go to waste because of it). Ray is declining quickly, but he does still manage to at least appear important.
Honorable mentions: James Harrison, OLB, Steelers; James Farrior, ILB, Steelers

Best overall: Troy Polamalu, SS, Pittsburgh Steelers. You can accuse me of bias if you want, but Polamalu has been so relentlessly clutch and preternaturally aware of the game unfolding around him that I consider him better than Ed Reed, who is, to be fair, unquestionably an excellent player, as well. Polamalu elevates the Steeler defense simply by being present- even when slowed by injury, his instinctive coverage skill makes him ominous to opposing passers.
Honorable mentions: Reed, SS, Baltimore Ravens; Haloti Ngata, NT, Baltimore Ravens

MVP: Ben Roethlisberger, QB, Steelers. Again, I am susceptible to accusations of bias, but the Steelers are the most successful team in the division (and, in fact, the league's history), and Roethlisberger has overseen a shift in the Steelers offensive philosophy from the punishing ground game of the Bettis era to a no-huddle heavy, vertical and mid-range passing attack, and he orchestrated a nigh-on perfect Super Bowl winning drive last year. He is not the Steelers' best player, or the real face of the franchise, but losing him would be more significant to them even than losing Polamalu, Harrison, or Farrior. Without him, the offense becomes almost non-existent.
Honorable mentions: Carson Palmer, QB, Bengals; Cedric Benson, RB, Bengals.

Something That Bothers Me...

...Is the way people tend to define music by racial categories. And I don't just mean the people who think of rap as "black music," though that is obviously a major instance. The white counterpart to that one, I suppose, is certain aspects of rock. Obviously, people remember black rockers like Hendrix, Chuck Berry, and Bo Diddley, but it seems that people assume that later stuff (post '70s) became the sole province of white guys. And, true enough, there's not a whole lot of black metal-heads, but it still shouldn't be defined in that way.

But the one that bothers me the most is the idea that white men playing blues are doing something wrong, or being tacky or something. For instance, Pitchfork Media says of Guy Blakeslee: "His white blues jones... at best was a hard sell, at worst insufferable." I really don't see the reasoning behind that. Yes, the blues started with black musicians in the Mississippi Delta, but classical music started in Europe, and I think that anyone who claimed that an African-American violinist was "insufferable" would be very quickly shouted down. Please don't misunderstand: I am not interested in discussing any double standards, real or imaginary, in race relations. I am only interested in defending my right to enjoy my favorite genre of music. After all, the blues itself claims ancestry in both European and African musical styles, and its primary instruments (guitar, harmonica, and piano) have origins in Europe. That's part of what makes it so appealing: the ubiquity of blue notes and call-and-response structures are taken from African music, and some melodic and instrumental elements come from folk music of North America. It's a collaborative sort of musical style.

In closing, I just want to point out the fact that many modern musical genres owe a great deal to the blues- rock, R&B, hip-hop, some sub-genres of folk- and that, if it's okay to be interested in those styles of music, it should also be alright to be interested in their common ancestor. I've never heard someone argue that it was "insufferable" for white people to love rock, and I don't like hearing it about blues.

The Jordan Monopoly

A recent post on Free Darko made use of the term "post post-Jordan." I thought about that for a while, and I think it's a very useful insight into the current state of the NBA.

That Michael Jordan changed the nature of the beast is undeniable. That his legacy has been beneficial to the league is questionable. In the wake of Jordan, every team naturally wanted to find a doppelganger for him: a viciously competitive, relentlessly clutch, athletically dominant perimeter player with will and skill enough to force his way to victory. We have seen a number of these kind of experiments, from McGrady, to Carter, to Bryant. Their success has been, como se dice, "up and down." True, Bryant has almost a fistful of rings, but he never did it in quite the same manner as Jordan- Jordan had a Pippen, not a Shaq or Pau (I'm not trying to suggest that Gasol is better than Pippen, just to highlight the lack of a dominant post presence in the Jordan-era Bulls). Even someone like KG is a product of the search for the neo-Jordan: he is a ferocious defender, used to be incredibly athletic, has great mental toughness and will, and... has an offensive game that probably took away from his maximum utility. Honestly, the man is very nearly seven feet tall and his primary move is a turnaround jumper. His post moves are almost non-existent. You can't tell me that this has nothing to do with the idealization of guard play during Garnett's formative years.

Meanwhile, the latest batch of exciting players have been far different- Rajon Rondo, whose jump shot could be kindly described as "lacking," Dwight Howard, who is dramatically incomplete as a player, but interesting nonetheless, Chris Paul, an agile, electric combination of the pure passing point guard and the AI type, and, yes, LeBron, whose skills are good but overshadowed by his simply psychotic athleticism. These are the post-post-Jordan players, and they are far more intriguing than their immediate predecessors.

The post-Jordan types were simply an attempt to recreate the one player proven to be most effective in the league's history, a freakish amalgam of skills, character traits, and innate gifts that will, in all likelihood, not be resurfacing any time soon. The new guys are quite different: they represent a new mindset for many teams, who are willing to pursue what actually appears, instead of attempting to manufacture what has disappeared. If the post-Jordan players were (to varying degrees) failed attempts to find one man capable of dominating all facets of the game, the post-post-Jordan crew consists of players willing to embrace their highly specific talents in creative and effective ways. The last generation of stars represents homogenization, the new, diversification of talent.

Jimmy vs. Jimi: A Rankly Amateur Perspective

If you talk to someone knowledgeable about popular rock'n'roll music throughout the last half century or so, odds are they will identify one of the following three men as the best (mainstream) rock guitarist: Eric Clapton, Jimi Hendrix, or Jimmy Page. Now, I think that Clapton, while good, is overrated. I think I have mentioned this before.

Despite my ever-increasing interest in and knowledge of more obscure music- at least, that's the current trend- I remain a classic-rock and blues fan at heart. Which leaves me to decide between the homophone brothers as the undisputed king (to clarify: a homophone is a word that sounds identical to another, as distinct from a homonym, which is the same word with at least two meanings. All this to say that "Jimmy" and "Jimi" sound the same without being spelled the same).

The way I see it, the talent level is virtually identical. Many gush about Hendrix as though his playing was head and shoulders above all others, but that's simply a mistake. To me, this is the essential difference: the unique thing about Hendrix is that his playing often makes me forget I'm hearing a string instrument; the unique thing about Page is that his playing often makes me hyper-aware that I'm hearing a string instrument. At times, Hendrix's guitar sounds stop registering as "guitar" and simply become "sounds." Weird, intriguing, fluid sounds. Hendrix was legendary as a sonic innovator, doing all that he could to broaden the scope of the attack. I am thinking of the last minute and a half of "All Along the Watchtower" in particular, but a lot of other songs apply.

By way of contrast, Page's contributions to the rock sound came primarily in his production, with his ambient miking and reverse-echo recording techniques. His playing itself was surprisingly orthodox: a great deal of pure blues with varying levels of distortion. The genius of his riffs is their groove, weight, and staggering feel. However, his soloing is another matter. Page was a pioneer of guitar soloing, employing traditional blues feel in wild, fast, and innovative ways- Eddie Van Halen cites Page's "Heartbreaker" solo (heavy on hammer-ons and wild finger work) as a major influence on his own two-hand tapping methods. And this is exactly where Page makes me so intensely aware of the nature of a guitar. When I hear his solos- especially "Since I've Been Loving You," "Achilles Last Stand," and "Whole Lotta Love"- I can't help but think about fingers fretting, bending, and shifting. By contrast, Hendrix makes me think of the undoubtedly hilarious reaction spaced-out hippies must have had to his seemingly impossible sounds.

Ultimately, I would be remiss not to comment on the fact that I have no real right to judge between the two- I'm not even a guitarist (I just play one on the internet). And so, I'm content to leave the issue of "best" undecided, and simply declare Page to be my favorite. Psychedelia is nice now and again, but the blues is home. In closing, I will quote Dave Grohl, who once said "Jimi Hendrix was a genius on fire... Jimmy Page was a genius possessed." Apt, and much more succinct than this was.

Football's Progressive Conservatism

For once, Chuck Klosterman reading has led me to do a post not related to music- he just wrote an article about football that was quite good. I think I'll be buying the new book.

His thesis was that football has "conservative values" alongside liberal tendencies, and that this explains the overwhelming popularity of the sport in America. I can kind of see his point: while its schemes, technology, and rules change rapidly, its self-image always revolves around the idea of blue-collared tough guys who are nevertheless morally upstanding. I should note that these archetypes are more stereotypical than typical: conservatism does not depend on anti-intellectualism and obscurantism any more than liberalism depends on aimless innovation.

I can see some other connections, too. For instance, even as the rate of passing plays continues to rise (hardly any teams run more often than pass anymore, as even Pittsburgh now passes upwards of thirty times per game), the personalities around the game continue to insist on the vital importance of the running game. Now, I don't believe that these people are wrong- a successful running game remains the surest method of controlling the ball and, by extension, the game- but it's an almost schizophrenic situation, in which the game is thriving on pass-heavy offenses but claims to be as run-oriented as ever.

Even more intriguing is football's bizarre social structure: while it is certainly the faces of the teams who receive the most attention, financial and otherwise- quarterbacks, receivers, running backs- there are frequent celebrations of the faceless. The left tackle, for instance, is one of the most highly paid players in the game these days, as is his primary antagonist, the right defensive end. In fact, the even more obscure defensive tackle has had a minor renaissance over the last few years, with the play of Kris Jenkins, Albert Haynesworth, Vince Wilfork, and others garnering national attention. Periodically, the offensive line as a gestalt is praised- the "vaguely Marxist" collective (as described by Michael Lewis in The Blind Side) of largely anonymous laborers sometimes take center stage in media. The rhetoric of football especially praises them, declaring the trenches to be the most critical location on the field. Again, I believe that this is in fact correct, but it is the sort of observation that requires more focus and expertise than the typical football fan is likely to have.

In no other sport are the subtleties simultaneously explained and mysterious- while the typical fan, thanks to the efforts of commentators and writers, knows the huge importance of line play, he remains largely uneducated with regards to the mechanics of it. It is very rare for such a person to blame anyone except the closest lineman should a defender sack the passer, despite the fact that a number of other factors could be and often are the true reason for the result (whether a blown assignment by a teammate, a missed read by the quarterback, or simply a slow-developing play). Almost all the rules of the game tilt the field in favor of defensive linemen (the ability to change positions before the snap, the ability to rip, swim, and grab cloth, etc.), so the speed of the passing game is hugely important in their performances: anything more than four seconds is a very long time to hold off a three hundred-plus pound athletic man who can do more to you than you can to him and who can actually see the location of the ball.

Another interesting phenomenon is this: centers and tackles, on average, have the highest IQ scores of any players on the field, followed by quarterbacks, middle linebackers, guards, and then a pretty random assortment afterward. So, the most intelligent players tend to play the offensive line. However, the instructions to the offensive line are often quite simplistic, especially with zone-blocking schemes (it essentially boils down to "protect this patch of dirt"). Meanwhile, defensive linemen, ostensibly the less intelligent men, are given more complicated instructions on average- twists, stunts, gap protections, etc. How do we explain this? Why does the simple offensive line need more intelligence than the chaotic defensive line? Because the offense's primary intellectual responsibility is to respond to the complexity of the defense: it requires analysis-on-the-fly capabilities, whereas the defender simply needs to remember and execute his basic responsibility- go here at this time and by this route. After that, his assigned duty is done, and he has complete freedom to perform his particular duty that play (usually a simple pursuit of the ball).

My last observation is this: no team plays up its blue-collar simplicity and toughness quite like the Steelers, although some of the Midwestern teams come close (Vikings, Packers, Bears). Pittsburgh bills itself as a brutal running team with a vicious defense. However, since the departure of certain key running offense personnel (Jerome Bettis, Alan Faneca, and Jeff Hartings, primarily), the offense has revolved increasingly around Ben Roethlisberger, Santonio Holmes, and Hines Ward (although, in fairness, he is one of the few receivers who could be said to be key to a running game). Pittsburgh now passes as much as any other team, largely due to the inefficacy of Willie Parker and the patchwork offensive line, with Rashard Mendenhall's recent emergence being an unknown factor going forward. We'll see where that goes.

The defense, meanwhile, is even more complicated and contradictory: far from simple, Dick LeBeau's schemes are downright byzantine in their intricacy, with zone blitzes, deception, and discipline being more important to it than blind aggression or even athleticism. Even so, the majority of the defensive personnel is, in fact, that way- James Harrison and LaMarr Woodley are two of the most intimidating specimens at linebacker in the league, the defensive backs rank among the hardest hitting in the game, and the defensive line is one of the meanest and strongest around. But even the base formation, the 3-4, carries the rightful reputation of being a cerebral and unorthodox system. The modern game began with and still embraces the 4-3, but the defenses with the best reputation for toughness over the last decade- New England's from its title runs, Baltimore's, and Pittsburgh's- have all used four linebackers.

As football increasingly focuses on the most colorful and innovative actions, its rhetoric and its figureheads continue to emphasize the nuts and bolts of the game, and its anti-climactic features: its defense, which exists for the sole purpose of preventing action; the offensive linemen, who exist to prevent even defensive action; and the running game, which derives most of its benefit from the fact that it uses up time without allowing a high amount of play. Contradictory? Yes. Confusing? At times. American? Undoubtedly.

Third Blog

I'd like to vary the way I say this somewhat from my post on Philosophy For Stupid People, so...

If anyone likes to read (frankly crappy) poetry- perhaps for the lulz?- I now have a third blog for that purpose: Amateur Hour Poetry.

Vindication

I had several reasons for being excited about the debut album of the group Drummer:

1.) It involved Patrick Carney, my favorite active drummer (of The Black Keys), and was being released on his label, Audio Eagle.
2.) It was an intriguing sounding project- I had only heard one track, "Diamonds to Shake," but it had a particular vibe to it, hard and shiny and shimmering. It's a bit difficult to give the impression in words.
3.) It was a project only involving drummers. That's right- despite the consistent failure of solo projects by drummers to do well at all (I'm looking at you, Keith Moon), here was a legitimate band composed entirely of men who made their living drumming. In addition to Carney on bass, Drummer features Jamie Stillman on guitar (Teeth of the Hydra), Jon Finley on vocals and second guitar (Beaten Awake), Stephen Clements on keyboards (Houseguest), and Greg Boyd actually drumming (Ghostman). Now, I hadn't actually heard of any of these bands, with the exception of the Keys, but it was still a pretty awesome concept.

I think of it as a musical Revenge of the Nerds: the drummer, consistently the least known and least respected member of bands (although bass and keyboards sometimes claim that position), finally gets his own band... with four other outcasts.

There's an old joke about drummers:
Q: How did the drummer get fired?
A: He said, "Hey guys, let's play one of my songs."
Well, guess what? Those are the only songs in this band! And not one of them is as goofy as Ringo's masterpiece, "Octopus Garden."

The "Dynamic Rock" of Led Zeppelin

Thanks to an interview I just read of John Paul Jones, I think another piece has fallen into place for me as to why I love Led Zeppelin so very much. Jones was essentially fielding questions about Jimmy Page, and had this to say about Page's vision for the band at its inception: "He had this whole thing about 'a dynamic rock band... a whole light-and-shade thing.' Which was pivotal, and it informed every musical decision that he made."

I think that the term "dynamic" encapsulates a great deal of what Led Zeppelin was: they were a medium between the "progressive" and the static, between the theoretical meanderings of bands like King Crimson and the repetitious sort of music being played by the Rolling Stones and the like. They incorporated the soft and plaintive side of folk as well as the hyperactivity of unadulterated rock'n'roll into what was essentially a blues band. They relied on riffs and grooves, but they were improvisational within that basic construct and played variants on all of their patterns. As a result, they had both permanence and novelty. The drums locked onto a solid, powerful beat and deviated from it to add drama and musicality with gorgeous tom fills, the bass and guitar generally played the same riff, with the bass occasionally answering the drums and the guitar periodically peeling off the underlying bass for soloing and improvisational leads and grace notes.

Zeppelin's genre-mixing also underscores the theme of dynamism: acoustic folk, hard rock, and a wide range of flavors of the blues blend and yet remain distinct in their albums, which, in my opinion, makes it nonsense to apply a single label to the band (especially the almost wholly erroneous charge of being a metal band). Led Zeppelin had a great variety of colors and textures at their disposal, and they used them all admirably.

Lastly, the term "dynamic" can be used to describe the musical attitude of the band. They opted neither for the sort of supremely technical, virtuosic approach favored by prog bands such as Dream Theater and Rush, nor for the simplistic, do-it-yourself approach typical of punk and pop-rock bands (with The Clash and The Beatles being the exceptions to the rule in those categories, respectively). I do not doubt that Zeppelin had the talent to adopt the former approach, nor that they had the songwriting skills to attempt the latter. Instead, they set out to construct genuinely enjoyable (and sometimes even joyful) music that celebrated the blues and rock music that they loved while also demonstrating that rock musicians could be capable of the sort of high-level musicianship that was largely lacking from it at the time. Some of Zeppelin's material borders on a classical level of complexity (notably in "Achilles Last Stand," among others) while remaining groovy and accessible.

In essence, Jimmy Page set out to, and succeeded in, creating a group of tremendous talent, variety, and musical intelligence. And that is why Zeppelin reigns supreme in my mind.

Things I Think While Watching the Steelers

1. Please, please, please tell me Troy Polamalu is going to be alright. Even if we win tonight, if he goes down for an extended period, it's a loss.

2. One thing I respect about Ben Roethlisberger: although he often makes dumb, risky throws (as in the end of half play tonight), he at least does it in a team-oriented way. He knew that he had the arm strength to reach the endzone and that it was unlikely the Titans could return an interception for a touchdown. It was essentially a no-loss proposition in terms of points, and he was willing to take that chance at the possible expense of worse numbers for himself.

3. I am watching (through SlingBox) the New England broadcast of this game. There was a national ad for health care reform. This is a massive waste of time for New England viewers. I can't imagine a more egregious case of preaching to the choir. There ought to be a better way of fine-tuning ad campaigns.

4. As observed by the broadcast team, James Harrison is indeed an animal. He hit Bo Scaife so hard that he actually dropped the football out of pain and not just due to impact. He also has been blowing up the tight ends on a regular basis.

5. It's time for the Steelers management to stop pretending this offensive line is going to work out.