Smile, New England, you're on candid camera?caught red-handed Sunday for videotaping and stealing the Jets' defensive signals, not to mention perhaps intercepting radio frequencies of their rivals' coordinators corresponding with one another, propelling the Patriots to a 38-14 rout of New York.
Okay, maybe I'm just a little bitter that Gang Green's season got off to such an awful start, but it does make me wonder (and Maroon 5 can attest to this) just how often Patriots coach Bill Belichick has been using these duplicitous tactics to his team's advantage. However dishonorable the acts, though, it really doesn't matter, because not even NFL commissioner Roger Goodell's potentially "severe" punishment of docking multiple draft picks from Bill's bunch?commensurate with zero chastisement?can conceal the shellacking my beloved Jets received. All I can do is keep telling myself that the Patriots are cheaters?even if Sunday was just an aberration?and find comfort in knowing that the Kellen Clemens (no relation to Roger by the way) era is finally upon us. Praise the Mangenius!
Besides New England joining the likes of Jose Canseco, Rick Ankiel, Felix Heredia, and Rafael Palmeiro (and David Ortiz?!?okay so I'm still bitter, get used to it), there were 15 other games taking place this past weekend, most notably a nail-biter just south of Niagara Falls in Buffalo, where the Bills were looking to upset the Jay Cutler-led Broncos. The Jets game was being broadcast on CBS, coinciding with Green Bay/Philadelphia on FOX, but that didn't mean I wasn't keeping a close eye on the score-ticker in the top-right corner of the TV screen. The only thing I can recall from the Bills/Broncos score was that I was shocked Denver hadn't scored more points. They had three for a while, then six...then nine...then 12...big breath...then 15. Then they won by a point, in what could go down as one of the most boring games in Broncos history, I'm sure. So basically, I registered that they had won and that the Bills had lost?case closed.
After taking a short break from the break that was watching football, I returned to the screen to catch some of the much-anticipated Chargers/Bears throw-down. Some of my friends were already in the room, observing the visor in its natural habitat?on LaDainian Tomlinson's facemask?and were watching last year's MVP struggle against the notoriously impenetrable Chicago defense.
My buddies were also talking some sports, as they often do in an environment as conducive to it as this one, and suddenly one of them turned to me and asked me, "Hey A-Wall, did you see that guy for the Bills get carried off on a stretcher earlier today?" I hadn't. "Yeah, he was trying to tackle this one guy," as my friend made a poor attempt at reenacting it, "went in head first like this and then couldn't get up afterwards, so he had to be carried off." Slightly concerned, I inquired to whom this unfortunate event had happened. My friend shrugged, "Everett or somethin'? I dunno." Neither did I. So I put it in my memory bank, and returned my attention to the visor.
Later that evening, I was watching ESPNEWS in the hopes that the moment I turned it on they would be showing Yankee highlights; all these Randy Moss ones were making me nauseous. But instead of witnessing another A-Bomb for A-Rod, the screen was displaying a humongous football player being carried off the field on a stretcher in front of an awestruck crowd watching vigilantly as one of their own was carted to an ambulance. Then I saw the preceding hit that made me cringe, just like the one my friend had imitated earlier, going head first trying to bring down Denver receiver Domenik Hixon. My eyes then traveled to the bottom right corner of the screen where it read: Bills' tight end Kevin Everett paralyzed. I froze. Then some ensuing chills ran unabatedly throughout my body as they replayed the bone-rattling hit. Kevin Everett's NFL career was over?so were his days walking on two feet.
I was still shocked hours later, and for the rest of the evening I really had trouble concentrating on anything but Kevin Everett. I just couldn't believe what had happened. I'd played football all through high school and been a fan of the game ever since I can remember, but never before had I seen anything like this. Sure, I always knew it was a possibility, but the chances of it actually happening? Let's just say they're close to that of Britney ever being hot again. Orthopedic surgeon Dr. Andrew Cappuccino was Everett's attending surgeon at Millard Fillmore Gates Hospital, and after the surgery had been completed, Cappuccino declared dejectedly that Everett had sustained a catastrophic, life-threatening spinal-cord injury, could not feel anything below his shoulders, and had a five to 10 percent chance of walking again. The news hit Everett hard, but perhaps his teammates even harder. Bills punter and teammate Brian Moorman was brought to tears after watching Everett's enormous 6-4, 253-pound frame lie motionless on the turf at Ralph Wilson Stadium. And starting quarterback J.P. Losman admitted how difficult it was to stay focused in practice on Monday with the ubiquitous feeling of malaise that just wouldn't go away.
How could this happen? It just wasn't fair, especially for a guy who had missed his entire rookie year due to a knee injury he had suffered on his first day of minicamp, played mostly special teams in 2006, and was just now beginning to become a factor in the Bills' system. How could this happen?
I asked myself that question repeatedly Sunday night, putting myself in his friends' shoes, his family's shoes, but most importantly, his shoes. I couldn't imagine what he must have been going through. The hit had to be just perfect in order for something as horrible as this to happen, and it did. You can bet that NFL fans all over the world?myself included?especially those in Buffalo, were praying fervently for a miracle, that that five to 10 percent chance would ultimately come to fruition. On Tuesday: a breakthrough.
Everett had suddenly regained voluntary movement in his arms and legs that had previously been immovable, and Dr. Barth Green, who is the chairman of the department of neurological surgery at the University of Miami school of medicine, seconded Cappuccino's new prognosis, saying, "Based on our experience, the fact that he's moving so well, so early after such a catastrophic injury means he will walk again...it's totally spectacular, totally unexpected...it's not 100 percent predictable at this time...But it's feasible he could lead a normal life."
I was overjoyed with the news. Kevin Everett had been pronounced paralyzed on Sunday evening, and on Tuesday afternoon, incredibly, he had been told that in all likelihood he would one day walk again. Simply amazing. When Everett's mother visited him in the hospital on Tuesday, she squeezed his hand as he squeezed back and said ever so thankfully, "He's like a miracle."
One of my good friends at boarding school used to keep a white piece of paper above his door on the inside of his room that in big, bold Sharpie lettering read: REFLECT. When Kevin Everett was pronounced paralyzed on Sunday, I thought of that piece of paper. It helped me put a lot of things into perspective: from something as large as the ability to attend a great college with great people, to something as small (that I take for granted) as being able to walk. We're all so fortunate, and most of us don't even realize it, nor appreciate it until something bad happens, like Kevin Everett's injury for instance.
But then came Tuesday's miracle, one that was undoubtedly made possible by the millions of prayers said around the world, and definitely through the irrepressible hope of fans, friends, family, and of course, Kevin himself, that his condition would improve. Kevin Everett may never play football again, but it's an almost certainty that he will one day be back on his feet. In his famous song "Back Turned Looking down the Path," Warren Zevon sings, "Some may have and some may not /God I'm thankful for what I've got." I think all of us would agree.