First and foremost, I hope that each and every one of you had a fantastic Ivies (Ivy for you readers that were lucky enough to peruse Steve Kolowich's most recent column) Weekend amongst the rain, Bud Light, and Kevin Lyttle lyrics?God knows I needed it the most. My beloved Yankees continued their downward spiral, falling to 9-14 after the Red Sox took two out of three in the Bronx (Kei Igawa is now my new best friend); the New England Patriots had yet another near-perfect NFL Draft, culminating with the acquisition of the exceptional Randy Moss; and the Knicks never ceased haunting my dreams. At least the Rangers are still alive in the NHL Playoffs, and who knows? Maybe Red Bull New York of the MLS could be fun to watch?they still have that Pele guy, right?
It was, unfortunately, a weekend that left a lot to be desired. One of the highlights, however, was spending a couple of hours with my mother, doing a little yard-work; nothing too painful, just some sweeping and raking here and there while taking five-minute breaks to catch pieces of the NFL Draft in the living room. I watched the first couple of picks, chuckling to myself as I watched the Raiders and Lions throw their respective futures into jeopardy (not that they weren't already there) by selecting JaMarcus Russell and Calvin Johnson, and then watched my Jets trade up and draft cornerback Darrelle Revis of Pittsburgh...he's pretty good I guess? Oh well, when in doubt, trust in Mangini I suppose.
I finished up the yard-work and returned to campus later that evening when I headed to Pine Street, only to be caught in a tumultuous downpour. Had Chris Farley been by my side through the monsoon, he could have easily summed up my experience with one of his simple, "This sucks"?but the worst was yet to come.
I awoke the next morning to find a text message on my phone from my friend/Maine-native, Louis, who wrote: "WE ARE GOING TO GO 16-0 HOLY S--- RANDY MOSS." My initial thought at that moment was identical to the one I felt when I heard Tyra Banks was getting her own TV Show: "Oh no." I scampered quickly from my bed to my desk, and pounded the keys of my laptop all the way to ESPN.com, where I was greeted with a most disturbing image: it was Moss, with a caption denoting his imminent trade to the hated New England Patriots.
I tried to compose myself as best I could, thinking that maybe the deal wouldn't go through, seeing that Moss had still yet to take his physical. I even went as far as to consider playing "Thank You," by Dido on my iPod, because that Derek Jeter poster on my wall reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad. But it was so bad. It was terrible. The Patriots had just acquired the best receiver in the NFL, but worst of all had gotten him virtually free of charge, surrendering only a fourth round draft pick to the brainless Raiders, and had all but clinched another AFC East title. At least the Jets still had the rights to Darrelle Revis.
So the Pats were finally back, and had made it abundantly clear their full intention on winning the Super Bowl again. All day Sunday, almost every single New England fan I knew was either calling me or IMing me about the trade of the decade?one that would transcend time and revolutionize football. Remarkably, even Moss himself was ecstatic about changing uniforms, "I don't think you all understand how excited I am to be a part of this organization. Let's put it this way: The Moss of old is back." Gulp.
Later that night, I was remembering one of the more significant moments in my life as a sports fan that occurred back in February of 2004. I was a sophomore in high school then, and at this particular time was on a coach bus with my JV basketball team, returning home to New Hampshire from a road game some two or three hours away. With it being winter outside, when the sun always seems to set around 1:15 in the afternoon, I dosed off amidst the darkness and dimmed headlights, dreaming of a warmer, brighter world that, unbeknownst to me, was right around the corner.
I was suddenly jolted from my sleep by my friend J.D. who was violently shaking my shoulder. Enraged, I spun around and looked at him with both eyes still half-closed and vehemently asked, "What do you want?" The troubled Red Sox fan stared back and replied most grimly, "My dad just called and told me that the Yankees just traded for Alex Rodriguez." It was as if I had been clocked in the face by a Ron Artest left-hook?I was stunned. Soon enough I had awoken everyone on the bus with my uncontrollable enthusiasm, breaking the news left and right to my buddies, leaving every Bostonian present to sit dejectedly in their latest forum of malaise...all but one, that is. My friend Dan from Massachusetts expressed his utter regret for the deal of the century, but then firmly asserted, "This doesn't necessarily guarantee the Yankees the World Series." Then, amongst all of this reminiscing, it hit me?I had heard this song once before.
Alex Rodriguez to the Yankees was just like Randy Moss to the Patriots. You're laughing now, but just hear me out and keep reading; I promise not to disappoint.
Ever since Pats' quarterback Tom Brady had pulled off the impossible upset against the heavily favored St. Louis Rams in Super Bowl XXXVI, I had always drawn a great comparison between he and Yankees shortstop Derek Jeter: Both are the humble, flawless leaders for (arguably) America's teams in their respective sports who both lead by example and play the toughest position on the field; they were the centerpieces to dynasties earlier in their careers; are both capable of getting any girl they wish; and haven't won a title in a couple of seasons?oh, and Jeter grew up in Michigan and Brady played at Michigan. But it is the penultimate similarity between the two men that proves to be the most intriguing.
Both the Yankee and Patriot (similar names, too) dynasties were made possible by players that were more compatible with their respective systems than pegs on a cribbage board?Paul O'Neill and Tino Martinez meet Deion Branch and David Givens?and two of the games' best coaches?Joe Torre and Bill Belichick. But both teams decided to move on after their final championship, watching their old-reliables drive off into the sunset as retirees, or through trades and free-agency, and now, neither team is the same without them. So what did both of them do mend the seams? They brought on big-name free-agents in hopes of getting back to the Promised Land. It hasn't worked for the Yankees (i.e. A-Rod, Gary Sheffield, Carl Pavano, etc.) and only time will tell if it works out for the Patriots (Moss, Adalius Thomas, Donté Stallworth), who have just begun to haul in the big names this offseason.
If history has taught us anything, it is that it will inevitably repeat itself at one time or another. And even though baseball and football are very different games, both the Yankees' and Patriots' top priority at the beginning of every season is to win their respective championships: the World Series and the Super Bowl, by however means necessary, and right now, New England's offseason route bears an uncanny resemblance to that of New York's three years ago. And if that is any indication of how the future will play out for Brady's bunch, they could be in for a world of hurt over the next several seasons. Moss could be a phenomenal pickup, despite his questionable attitude, but (thanks to Dan) it doesn't necessarily guarantee the Patriots a Super Bowl?it is this thought in particular that will keep my days warm and my evenings cool all summer long.