Breaking the law, lake trout, wintertime and picking the NFL winners

Generally, breaking the law is a bad idea and it’s something the folks behind this little site do not endorse. Still, we understand that sometimes circumstances tilt toward a little bending and flexing of certain statutes. For instance, we think it’s OK to steal bread in order to feed a starving family. That’s basic because if a criminal is allowed to have a lawyer for free, then we ought to look out for each other.

Or something.

You may be asking about the slippery slope this theory creates, and yes, I understand the moral dilemma. Sociologists haven’t weighed in, but I’m sure they look at bread stealing as a gateway to bigger things. Like, as soon as a person gets enough to eat to shake off the hunger pangs, it’s only a matter of time before the upstairs doors are closed and he is making bathtub moonshine.

Yes, it’s an all-too familiar tale. Of course some may see it as one of those “victimless crimes,” which sounds like an oxymoron, like “jumbo shrimp.” But if that’s the case, didn’t you feel safer walking the streets at night knowing Martha Stewart was locked up behind bars for insider trading? Hey, Martha is no Bernie Madoff, Goldman & Sachs, or some other immoral Wall St. knob, but you know how we voiceless middle Americans feel about comeuppance… we love it!

Anyway, people love betting on football games a lot. They even make up variations of normal gambling like that whole fantasy football bit. Ever play that? Man, people get nuts over it. Sometimes they even act like they really are a football coach and/or general manager when they talk about their fantasy football team(s). Hell, they even utilize lean muscle mass and brain power and express their feelings into words on web sites and books about how to be a really good fantasy football guy.

Yeah, it sounds crazy doesn’t it?

However, unless you are playing for jelly beans or pink slips, gambling is illegal in most municipalities in the United States, sir. In other places in our country it’s frowned upon or tolerated only in plush, environmentally-controlled palaces with mismatched wall-to-wall carpet and medieval and/or nautical themes.  

Still, like a hungry person swiping a loaf of bread, it’s probably a crime not to wager a little something on the playoff football games that are slated for this weekend. Look, I’m not telling you to do it because of how they view those sorts of things in society, but if I had a little extra money/gold/pelts/heirlooms just burning a hole in my pocket, I would wager it thusly on this weekend’s slate of NFL Playoffs games:

Saturday games

Saints at Seahawks

Pick: Saints (minus-10)

Gotta give Seahawks’ coach Pete Carroll some credit… not only did he figure out a way to get a team with a losing record a home game in the NFL playoffs, but also he’s done it with players getting paid far less than the guys he had at USC. Nevertheless, unless Carroll figures out a way to get hometown hero Tim Lincecum into the game instead of having him serve as the cheerleader/12^th man, this one could be a blood bath.

Jets at Colts

Pick: Colts (minus-2½ )

The line in this one indicates that the Jets are a little better than the Colts. However, the Colts have won four games in a row, beat the Jets in the AFC Championship last year, and ever since they snuck out of Baltimore in the middle of the night like some gypsy thieves, the Colts have dominated the Jets. As the Indianapolis Colts, they are 27-14 against the Jets and going back to Super Bowl III, the Colts are 42-26 against the Jets.

The craziest one? In 1991 when the Colts went 1-15 their lone win came against the Jets.

Of course none of that matters now. I just felt like counting up all the times the Jets and Colts played. I also wanted to figure out a way to mention Johnny Unitas, but that’s not really going to work. Besides, the Jets won’t have Joe Namath on Saturday. They’ll just have Rex Ryan who as the coach of the Jets, already has two more victories in the playoffs than his dad, Buddy.

Nope, I didn’t understand any of this either.

Sunday games

Ravens at Chiefs

Pick: Ravens (minus-3)

Ah Baltimore, the city that should have a bigger inferiority complex than Philadelphia. Stuck so close to Washington (yet so far away), Baltimore often serves as a slight vista up I-95 to New York or Boston or wherever folks from D.C. like to go.

But Baltimoreans feel pretty good about their spot in American culture. The football team is pretty good, the waterfront still draws tourists like flies, John Waters is around, and the greatest TV show ever produced, The Wire, was shot and set in town.

The people of Baltimore also appear to have gotten past the idea that the football team wears purple and is called the Ravens instead of blue and white and the Colts.

For the old-timers, the football team in Baltimore is called the Colts. You know, Johnny Unitas, Art Donovan, Don Shula, Lenny Moore, Bert Jones, Gino Marchetti, Earl Morrall and Raymond Berry. The name and colors should have remained locked up in Memorial Stadium when that gypsy Bob Irsay packed up that Mayflower truck and snuck out of town in the middle of the night. That’s what should have happened.

Instead, Johnny Unitas’ flat-top grew out, his black high-tops were retired and Baltimore had to wait for Art Modell to sneak the Browns out of Cleveland before they got another team.

Baltimoreans, of course, are a hearty lot. They know all about being past by on the interstate as thrill seekers go off looking for someplace a little less hardcore. Sure, they do crabs and beer as well in Baltimore as any place on the planet, but they also eat something called lake trout, which doesn’t come from a lake and sure as hell ain’t trout. In fact, lake trout, which is served breaded and deep fried, is a fish that a person doesn’t even have to go fishing for. Know the phrase “shooting fish in a barrel?” Well, with lake trout you don’t have to pull the trigger. Just bend down and yank them out of the gravelly sand in the shallow water. Don’t worry, they’ll be there waiting.

Kind of like the cows that produce all the steaks they like to eat in Kansas City. For the Chiefs players, they better not fill up so close to game time. They are going to need to be light on their feet with the Ravens’ fleet defenders bearing down on them for 60 minutes. Stick with rice or pasta.

Packers at Eagles

Pick: Packers (plus-2½)

They get after it in Wisconsin. Really, they get after it. According to some silly poll taken by some magazine that probably won’t exist in a year or two, Milwaukee, the closest “big” city near Green Bay, is the drunkest town in the U.S. Meanwhile, Philadelphia checked in at No. 20.

What does this mean? Well, for one thing there probably isn’t a lot to do during the winter time in Wisconsin because it’s so damn cold. It’s so cold, in fact, that people rarely go outside after the first week of October and there are indoor walkways that connect all of the buildings so folks won’t have to go outdoors and get frost bite. They also build shacks on top of the frozen lakes and go fishing.

Fishing and drinking, apparently.

Nevertheless, since the towns look like habitatrails and the people have decided to stay inside, there better be something to watch on TV and it better be good. Imagine how much drinking would go on in Wisconsin if the Packers were bad. In fact, if the Packers lose this weekend and the football season were to end more than two months before the first day of spring, martial law is declared in Green Bay, Milwaukee and Kenosha. Keep people out of the snow drifts.

Although the Eagles should have a plan for second-year linebacker extraordinaire Clay Matthews, it’s unknown whether the defense can contain quarterback Aaron Rodgers. Plus, with the temperature expected to be a balmy 32 degrees on Sunday, the Packers might play in shorts.

Hey, it doesn’t hit the 30s until May in Wisconsin. The warm weather is sure to have the Packers feeling loose and ready to move.

Last year’s playoff picks record: 7-3

Picking more playoff winners

Last week: 2-2
Playoffs: 5-3

Just imagine how crazy it will be for the promoters of the Super Bowl if Brett Favre and the Minnesota Vikings win in New Orleans tomorrow. Think of all the story lines that are just waiting to be pushed out there—Favre vs. the Jets or Favre vs. Peyton Manning.

It’s almost too easy. Never mind that Favre is a walking soap opera to begin with, but just imagine all the blathering and carrying on that will be belched out through Super Bowl Sunday if the Vikings get there.

Go ahead and think… I’ll wait.

The thing with Favre quarterbacking the Vikings is that no one will talk about the fact that the team is already 0-4 in the big game and no team has lost five Super Bowls.

That’s the hope for the right’s holders, of course. Favre, as we have learned, garners extreme feelings and Americans love to watch things specifically to root for the failure of others. How else could anyone explain the popularity of shows like “American Idol” or “How I Survived to Dance with the Stars?” You know… crap. Favre in the Super Bowl would pull in mega ratings of slack-jawed types rooting for the old man to get slapped around for 60-minutes.

What fun is that? Who wants to watch others fail? You know, besides jerks.

I guess it makes sense though. After all Favre said he was going to retire and he cried in front of writers and TV cameras because he was going to go back to Mississippi and enjoy life. A couple of months later he changed his mind about Mississippi, retirement and fun. In other words, the tears meant nothing. He was just faking it.

Nevertheless, the Packers traded him to the Jets where he played pretty good for awhile before struggling late in the season. When it was over there were the typical stories about how Favre was a divisive force in the locker room, didn’t really mingle with his teammates and just didn’t have it any more.

So what did Favre do? Yep, retirement, Mississippi, fun. At least for a little bit. When the Vikings came calling, Favre bolted out of Mississippi faster than General John C. Pemberton. Who could blame him? The guy loves to play the game. Better yet, the TV networks love to show him as he loves to play the game. How could they not? The guy is a gunslinger.

Still, Americans like retirees to remain retired. Most folks are counting down the days until they can quit their day job and go off to do what they really love, which is watch television and judge others. So by repeatedly retiring only to go back to work a few months later, Favre has proven himself to be more un-American than Alger Hiss.

Meanwhile, the city of New Orleans stands between Favre and a trip back to the Super Bowl. The Saints, representing the city on the gridiron, are in the NFC Championship for the second time in the last three seasons. Making matters tough for the Vikings is the fact that the Saints are playing in their home dome with the entire city galvanized behind them while loaded with an offense that scores more than … well, let’s just say the Saints score a lot.

Pick: Saints (minus-4) over the Vikings

We went through all the reasons why it name “Colts” and “Indianapolis” do not belong together last week. No sense rehashing it this week or proving that my ability to retain sports information stopped cold in 1983. Besides, if Baltimore has moved on past its depressions and given us state senator Clay Davis and detective Bunk Moreland, well, I guess it’s OK to cede the nickname Colts to Indiana.

That doesn’t mean I like it.

Besides, wouldn’t it be more fun if Peyton Manning played in Baltimore?

Anyway, in the most recent issue of Sports Illustrated, there was a big story on Jim Irsay and his stewardship over the Colts. Jim Irsay, of course, is the son of Bob Irsay, the dude who crept out of Baltimore with a football team packed into a Mayflower truck under the cover of night. No, I haven’t read the story yet, but by all accounts the apple fell a long ways away from the tree—Jim is nothing like his old man.

For starters, the pictures in the magazine (yeah, I looked at the pictures not the words) reveal that Jim Irsay has a pretty bitchin’ vintage guitar collection. In fact, I saw a double Gibson-SG in one of the photographs, which is something I never knew existed. A double Gibson-SG? Can you imagine? Jim Irsay also owns the original manuscript of Jack Kerouac’s, “On the Road,” which was scribbled onto to a scroll that stretches 40 yards when unfurled. A few years ago Irsay lent out his scroll for a nationwide tour.

Hey, looking at a manuscript in a museum is no dumber than looking at King Tut.

For now, the media has focused on Jets’ coach Rex Reed, the son of legendary Eagles’ coach, Buddy Ryan. According to the stories, Rex likes to eat… a lot. Word is he needs 7,000 calories a day to keep going and likes to eat Mexican cuisine so much that it has been renamed, “Rexican food.”

Sounds gross.

Certainly Peyton Manning knows something or two about good food seeing as he comes from New Orleans. Archie Manning, Peyton’s dad, used to be the quarterback for the sad sack Saints back when folks turned out for their games wearing brown paper bags over their heads and calling their team, the Aints. Frankly, that’s your story line right there…

What kind of hype will we have force fed on us with the Mannings and New Orleans when they meet in the Super Bowl.

Pick: Colts (minus-8) over Jets

We can't see you

If the Eagles play a game and nobody is able to watch it, does it make a sound?

In other words, here in Lancaster, Pa. -- just 60 miles from Center City as the crow flies -- the Eagles game is not on TV. Nope, it wasn't "blacked out," nor was there a technical glitch. Simply, it was not broadcast in this area.

This is despite the Eagles thinking that Lancaster was fertile enough ground for their fandom to open one of their Eagles' Stores in the touristy row of strip malls outlining the outer edge of Lancaster proper and the Amish/tourist zone. This is also despite the notion that Lancasterians believe their town is a de facto suburb of Philadelphia and within the Philly media market.

But the reason for the Eagles snub of the Lancaster viewing area isn't because the cable company or TV networks are mean or have it out for the good folks in the Garden Spot. It's simply the fault of geography, which can be a kick in the pants sometimes.

You see, CBS is the network in charge of carrying the Eagles game vs. Jacksonville on Sunday. Unfortunately, the TV station in Lancaster -- WGAL -- is an NBC affiliate. The CBS affiliate is in York or Harrisburg, which just over the Susquehanna River from Lancaster, is technically the Baltimore viewing market. That means the affiliate is bound by the NFL's rules and regulations to show the Ravens-Saints game.

See, what did I tell you about geography?

The funny thing is that Baltimore is closer to most of Lancaster. In fact, a drive from my house to Camden Yards/Inner Harbor is much easier and quicker to make than one to Philadelphia... not to mention much more pleasant than battling traffic on the Schuylkill or Blue Route.

Yet there is no real connection with Baltimore here. Sure, there are a handful of Orioles' fans, but they seem to have diminished considerably during the Angelos reign in the so-called Charm City. The Ravens? What are they? Where did they come from and what happened to the Colts?

The football team in that city is called the Baltimore Colts. You know, Johnny Unitas, Art Donovan, Don Shula, Lenny Moore, Bert Jones, Gino Marchetti, Earl Morrall and Raymond Berry. The name and colors should have remained locked up in Memorial Stadium when the Irsay's packed up that Mayflower truck and snuck out of town in the middle of the night.

The Baltimore Ravens still have a USFL feel to them, and yeah, I know they won the Super Bowl a few years ago. The opposing quarterback in that game, Kerry Collins, is a former basketball and football standout in the Lancaster-Lebanon League.

Lancaster is Eagles and Phillies country, and it used to be the pre-season home for the 76ers, whose training camp was held at Franklin & Marshall College. Nevertheless, that doesn't do anything for the folks who are bummed out that they cannot watch the local football team on Sunday afternoon.

So what's the remedy? Maybe the NFL can start broadcasting their games on the Internet like every other major and minor sports league? Or, better yet, maybe they can allow the local affiliates to decide on their own which games they want to televise to their viewers?

Then again, it's Sunday. Turn off the tube and hang out with the family.