BY ADAM GREENE
We saw the NFL league return to a sort of equilibrium this Sunday. Last week, the entire football slate was a Bad Beat, as chaos reigned from Thursday to Tuesday. This weekend, we saw a little normalcy, as teams battled down to the wire in a predictable fashion, whether they could cover or not becoming clear long before the fourth quarter.
But not every game. No, the Bad Beat hits you like a gut punch and we had two that not only pounded you solidly in the solar plexus, they might have gotten away with a strike or two below the belt.
You know exactly which games I’m talking about; Tennessee Titans 42, Houston Texans 36 and Baltimore Ravens 30, Philadelphia Eagles 28.
Both absolute baby blockers for entire different reasons.
Let’s hit the Ravens first, because that one should just hurt your feelings. One thing you can all but count on is Baltimore literally running up the score against an inferior team. It’s their whole thing. While their offense might hit a brick wall against a talented unit with good coaching, the Eagles are in complete disarray. While they still have the coaches there, the talent hasn’t been getting the job done. If anything, that Ravens -9 looked like a gift. A gift that would park, in your driveway, that custom Outlaw Edition Trans Am from Trans Am Depot. It’s the 2020 version of the car the Bandit would drive, jumping bridges, evading state troopers, picking up runaway brides all while getting chased mercilessly by a rogue county Mountie and his idiot son.
The dream was so close.
With barely over seven minutes left in the fourth quarter, Baltimore led 30-14. Your bet was safe. You were already settling into those bucket seats and hitting the internet to find the perfect cowboy hat with the state of Florida pinned to the front.
You know what happened next. A Philadelphia touchdown drive, followed by a Ravens three-and-out, then another Eagles TD drive. It was a disaster. By the time the Eagles’ two point conversion failed, the Bandit had escaped you, leaving you in the dust like you were crashing through the county fair in a roofless trooper car while your stupid son had to reach over to hold down your hat.
But, hey, you still had skin in a game. You picked the Houston Texans at +3.5 against the Tennessee Titans. An overconfident Titans team at that, reveling in the smell of their own farts after flaunting the NFL’s COVID-19 protocols for two weeks, was primed for a surprise loss. They were due to get theirs and the Texans, riding a new head coach in Romeo Crennel, were ready to hand it to them.
But it was Crennel that would cost you what you wanted most, as if he was some local cop critiquing the shape of your police cruiser.
Up by one with 8:30 to go, the Texans uncorked a 15 play scoring drive that ate up the clock and got into the endzone. Up seven after the touchdown, the smart move would obviously be to kick the extra point and go up eight. That way you force the opposing team to convert not only a touchdown, but a two-point conversion to even force overtime. The odds would be stacked in your favor. It’s hard enough to get into the end zone once, but back-to-back? You take your chances.
Or you could go for two and not get it, then let the Titans waltz down the field for the tying score and force the game into overtime. Crennel, using all the experience of a 73 year old man who’s due to fired the third time as a head coach, did just that.
But overtime was your friend. The Titans could still win with a field goal and you’d be right back on the road, 28 hours to Texarkana and back, all you had to do now is make the jump.
You were doing it for the money, for the glory, and for the fun, but mostly for the money. But so was Derrick Henry and we plowed into the endzone in overtime, your “Outlaw” days were over. You didn’t make the jump. Thanks to the Texans, Henry had a short way to go and 250 pounds to get there. And he did.
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