So, The Patriots Killed Us, Eleventy-Kabillion to Seven
We didn't come into this week eight matchup with the undefeated New England Patriots without some degree of hope. It's been suggested that someone has to beat New England this year. And we seem to recall that Tom Brady had not yet beaten us in his career. And Gibbs was out, doing his expectations management act, downplaying our chances, which he always does. And we were asked to compare this matchup to Michigan and App State - and we all know how that turned out (fewer of us probably know how later, App State lost to the Wofford Terriers...the Terriers!).
So, you know, the game starts. We win the toss. Nice. We get out there, it's tough going. But we hit a couple plays, convert some third downs...honestly, it didn't feel so bad. Just two NFL teams going at it on a Sunday in October. Unfortunately, the Redskins were very quickly undone by the vagaries of the National Football League rulebook, which clearly state that eventually, Tom Brady gets to touch the ball.
And that's when everything went wrong.
Really. Brady and the Patriots offense just flat-out beat the snot out of us. They ran the ball down our throats, passed at will...they even scored a touchdown on that goddamned insert-Mike-Vrabel-as-an-eligible-receiver play that they had previously scored NINE touchdowns with, and that you'd THINK was well-known enough that someone...ANYONE would cover the man, instead of letting him slip wide open for an easy score, as if by mere dint of the fact that he's a linebacker somehow precludes him from being able to catch a ball.
I'm not sure that the game is even worth analyzing. Basically, it looked as if we came out determined to deny Brady the opportunity to throw deep, so instead, the Pats had Lawrence Maroney break off huge chunks of yardage on rushing plays as Brady contented himself hitting Kevin Faulk and Wes Welker underneath. And when we adjusted, Brady hit Randy Moss for a sick thirty-five yard gain.
Defensively, the Patriots straight-up pwned us as well, forcing three fumbles, getting one interception, sacking Campbell three times, holding Portis to 27 yards on 11 carries, and never letting us get within sniffing distance of scoring until we were well into garbage time. It's worth noting that for a brief period of time in the first quarter, technical difficulties prevented offensive coordinator Al Saunders from effectively communicating with the field. That glitch was eventually corrected, but you have to imagine that round about the third quarter, after Gibbs had yelled for the seventeenth time, "Jesus, Al! You got ANYTHING in that Talmudic playbook of yours that might work on these guys? We are totally getting our asses kicked down here!" that Saunders probably wished his headset would just break again.
Really. Best not to spend any more time thinking about this game. Let's hope this is a one time thing, related mainly to the divine mandate that everything and everyone in Massachusetts-based sports should brutally pound the everloving bejeezus out of every opponent they run across this year. Really, could Fortune be smiling on Beantown any harder? I bet that when Bostonist editor Caroline Roberts breaks out her winter coat this week, she's like, going to find a twenty-dollar bill in the pockets that she totally forgot about. "Oh, look!" she'll say, "Twenty bucks! How lucky!" Well, suck me, Caroline. A pox of Aqua Teen Hunger Force lite-brites on your whole damned city!
After the game, Pats WR Welker praised our defense and called Washington a playoff team. Guess we can only take his word for it. Douchebag.
Next week, the Redskins travel to New York to play the Jets, or something. I'll have calmed down by then.