PhillyB

it's incredibly dense and could possibly be an improvement at left guard for the colts imo

yeah but only for purpose of shitposting on the internet about it while drinking beer. academia provides you with some good-ass insults

i thought about introducing historiographical principles into the post but that seemed like overkill, especially considering i just subversively introduced postmodernist concepts to the unwitting masses :)

hmmm... for fun read kon-tiki, an account of experimental history/anthropology (a couple scientists create a paleolithic raft and test the hypothesis that people could've migrated across the pacific to populate the americas.) adventurous and highly entertaining read. also check out history wars, a very readable edited collection of essays on conflict over historical representation in museums, focusing in particular on the 1990s conflict over the smithsonian's enola gay exhibit. it ties nicely into the theoretical aspect of this post, actually. also think about reading richard hofstadter's anti-intellectualism in the american life, a seminal text for any political/cultural historian. and if you get the chance read the follow-up, susan jacoby's the age of american unreason (and review it for me, i own it but haven't read it yet)

why, what a strange coincidence! i should pay more attention to how i order my words!

agree. grigson has built that offense backwards and its a losing strategy. the panthers DL may actually be the nastiest they've faced so far this year, so it should be a visual spectacular for fans monday night

it's tempting to read hyperbole into these types of statements but i honestly believe it's happening. the narrative has been crumbling for a while now. espn shows have been running with topics like "have we criminally overrated luck?" and more and more articles are launching criticism of his playing at the basest level. i think if the panthers drag him up and down the field in a multi-sack, multi-turnover performance on monday night football that the colts (and specifically andrew luck) will see a palpable fall from grace that's unprecedented in his career. i think people will finally openly admit he's not elite, or anywhere near it.

Objectivity is good. Football fans appreciate objectivity. They especially appreciate it when analyzing football recent football histories: it seems patently unfair when a player's historical (which could mean last season, or ten years ago) or current merit is weighted differently based on factors unrelated to performance, like what team he plays for, how he speaks, or what role he is assigned in popular media by a narrative-driven league. Pretty much everyone agrees that players should be judged objectively. But first let's ask: is there any such thing as objectivity? Can we really objectively analyze a football player's performance? In a brilliant 1980 essay, legendary historian Hayden White outlined the problem with objectivity in even the simplest historical matters. Case in point: the historical annals of, say, Gaul (modern France) in the 8th century AD. Here is a snapshot of the recorded history of Gaul between the years 709-734, as culled from volume one of the Monumenta Germaniae Historica: This seems like a reasonable collection of events to include in a history. Duke Gottfried was a Bavarian duke, so his death seems significant. King Charles slaughtered the Saxons and then won at the battle of Poitiers - great, all good stuff. But a closer examination begs some questions. Why was the Battle of Tours in 732 left out when it was so much more consequential? Why is "Saturday" mentioned with as much gravity as the battle itself? Why is "great crops" weighted the same as Theudo's victory at Aquitaine? What the hell happened in 726, 728, 729, and 730? Were they all on vacation? Whatever the answer, the inclusion of seemingly nominal events like a bad crop year and that silly flood in 712 is actually the most revealing of all: those events are included in a history because they bear immediate importance to the writer. The writer's supposedly objective history is actually completely subjective because he is a prisoner of his time and his situation. His very survival depends on crops not being bad, so for that reason alone it's worth a mention. And a little historical digging reveals that Duke Gottfried donated his castle to the writer's patron when he died; suddenly the good duke's inclusion as a historical figure looks financially motivated, not historically accurate. Therefore this history is not the history of Gaul, but rather a history framed by the annalist's own biological and economic necessities. A new history of Gaul in the same period might look much different. Got that? Good. Histories aren't objective because the selection of facts is framed by the worldview of the historian selecting them. And this brings us to Andrew Luck and the Indianapolis Colts. "CAN SOMEONE PLEASE DIG UP DUKE GOTTFRIED AND START HIM AT LEFT GUARD" If there was ever a case for declaring "objective" football history as truly subjective, it's Andrew Luck. Hayden White argues that narratives fill the gaps in bullet-pointed annals and integrate them into some kind of story with greater meaning; like the annalist of Gaul, sports journalists, national writers, pundits, coaches, and legions of fans have been channeled into a narrative about Andrew Luck. Much like the annalist of Gaul selected an event that supported his ulterior motives and wrote it as objective history, so too can writers select for traits about a football player that fit their narrative. Here is an example: Wow, that Andrew Luck sure is clutch! Three second-half touchdowns last week to lead the league. He's better than Brady! The stats show it and you can't debate them, because correlation equals causation and dammit he just has that drive and lunch pail leadership! I sure like that guy! Of course if you adjust Luck's week seven performance so that it doesn't isolate metrics that highlight his performance, his results are much less exceptional. Keep removing qualifiers like "second half" and Luck's performance drops even further. Add in more complex metrics like "first half interceptions that put your team in a 15+ point hole" and suddenly dragging yourself out of it in garbage time doesn't seem so impressive an accomplishment. This are silly examples, of course, but that's the rub. Those silly examples are exactly what the Andrew Luck narrative has survived on over the past three years: bits and pieces cherry-picked to suit an overarching narrative. Floods and famines, if you will, a history great to certain interested parties but hardly an objective whole that indicates the reality of the situation. Much like the annals of Gaul crumble as a useful narrative upon closer analysis, so too does Andrew Luck's media-driven stature as one of the league's best passers fall apart under intense statistical scrutiny, comparative analysis, and the unforgiving prowess of defensive players who have forced him into cringingly bad throws this season. His defense isn't doing him any favors - they're currently ranked bottom in the league - but part of that's because he's been putting them in bad situations with turnovers. His nine interceptions are tied for third in the league, behind Bradford, Stafford, and Peyton Manning, all of whom are having atrocious years. Andrew Luck is a quarterback with a high ceiling playing very poorly. More significantly than that he is playing much worse than the level automatically granted to him by the league's dominant narrative that Andrew Luck is a football great. No, this year he is worse than marginal: he is legitimately one of the worst quarterbacks on one of the worst teams in the NFL. Last week's game against the New Orleans Saints is a microcosm of his entire season - some would argue his career - so let's take a look at his latest egregious, inexcusable interception to see exactly what's going on. Luck's first interception came at 2:23 in the first quarter. Here the Colts line up with a 3WR 1TE set. The back goes into motion to run a rout at the top of your screen; Luck's primary is the slant run by T.Y. Hilton (circled in yellow.) The Saints appear to be in cover three, with the corners and free safety playing deep zones and the linebackers playing the middle of the field. Stephone Anthony (bracketed in red) is watching for a drag, short slant, or anything up the seam that requires him to go after a receiver - or jump a route. Watch what happens. Luck eyes Hilton's slant the entire way. The linebacker reads Luck's eyes as the route progresses, squatting down in the zone, and as soon as Hilton makes his cut inside the linebacker jumps the route. Hilton tries to adjust and come back to it, but it's too late. Greg Cosell's fantastic analysis has further shown that Luck was throwing for a three-step slant while Hilton was breaking in at five steps. Staring him down only made it worse. Drew Brees and the Saints quickly took advantage, putting a touchdown on the board and beginning what would turn out to be a complete trouncing of the Colts. Later in the half Luck gave the defense a similar gift downfield on a fly route after the two minute warning, staring his receiver the entire way down the field (and ignoring a wide-open man up the seam on the other side.) Result: 20-0 halftime score, in favor of the Saints. By repeatedly making fundamental, JV-squad level errors like staring down his receivers and missing the middle linebacker, Andrew Luck put his team in a position to lose - and, once again, put himself in a position to score garbage-time touchdowns and once again quantifiably corroborate us the kinds of narratives we so neatly derive if we're looking for them. This coming Monday night, the Carolina Panthers have the opportunity to visit a merciless pounding on the Annals of Andrew Luck, utilizing a hard-hitting, quickly-reacting defensive backfield to take advantage of his mistakes. Monday night the Andrew Luck narrative can end on before the eyes of the entire world on national television and Panthers fans, at long last, can put away reflexive defense of their quarterback at the narrative's opposite pole. On Monday night the narrative of Andrew-Luck-as-great-quarterback will go quietly into the dark night. And unlike the Battle of Tours, nobody will be able to narrate the Carolina Panthers out of existence. View full article

beautiful

nice frisbee toss bitch

fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuug

this game is annoying as poo

man this is some real fugery

his ass was down morons

ha! and i suppose jerry lewis is vice president! and jack benny is secretary of the treasury!

what else can you tell us, future boy?

24-16 panthers

the judge who tells marty his band is just too loud is actually played by huey lewis

be gone with that propaganda!

whose jersey comes up when you add three and twenty-one? prophecy

yeah i think i'm done with photoshopping for the year

next time someone tells you we can't possibly win the superbowl without kelvin benjamin whip out BTTF3 and tell them your future hasn't been written yet!

andrew luck can't count to ten and chuck pagano is the dumbass henchman that buford kicks in the ribs

In a tale as legendary as time itself, unlikely hero Martin McFly once found himself in 1955, trapped in his own past thirty years before the present. There he found his father, George McFly, pummeled and ridiculed by Biff Tannen, subject to the insults and repeated harassment of a bully able to impose his will every time they met. Marty watched in disgust as his father, a gangly, overgrown, underpowered high school milquetoast, kowtowed to Biff's every offense. It was a dynamic that molded his identity, indeed his very consciousness. Biff's bullying became the essence of who George McFly was. Does this dynamic sound familiar? Biff Tannen is the Seattle Seahawks, and by my estimation that makes the Panthers George McFly. But we've all seen how that one ends, and it's glorious. Faster than you can yell "Hello McFly!" the Panthers did swear, George, goddammit, and they punched Biff square in the face, knocked him out, and took the girl. And thirty years later, back in the present, Marty observed the difference that win made in his father's life, his personality, his outlook, his attitude. It became the single defining moment in his life and spawned greatness. But all did not end well. Just like Seattle isn't the end of the season, so did Marty find that his misadventures were only beginning. Having only just triumphed over his own family's fate, Marty found himself in a new crisis. So it goes with the Panthers. Forget the past, it's time to go back to the future and avenge the poor choices of your children: that is, the 2014 Panthers matchup against the Philadelphia Eagles. October 21, 2015 That's the date Marty went to the future. He saw a version of his future that reminded him of his past: his son a criminal, his wife a drunk, his own life in shambles due to a series of terrible choices. And what's more, 78-year-old Biff stole the DeLorean, flew to 1955, gave that version of himself a sports almanac, and set in motion a chain of events leading to an alternate reality, a dystopian 1985 that finds Hill Valley in physical ruin, crossed with barbed wire, bodybags, machine guns, social decay, and the flickering neon lights of excess and immense economic inequality. In other words, they were in Philadelphia. Absolute disaster! Much like Doc and Marty, the Panthers last year found themselves humuliated by the Eagles, sacked nine times and overwhelmed from the opening snap. A starting secondary consisting of Melvin White, Antoine Cason, Charles Godfrey, and Thomas DeCoud couldn't stop Mark Sanchez from lighting up the scoreboard, and an offensive line consisting of Byron Bell, Amini Silatolu, Chris Scott, and Nate Chandler couldn't stop a formidable pass rush from shredding the point of attack. The result was a humiliating 45-21 loss that was a deeper drubbing than it sounds (14 of those Carolina points came in garbage time.) In the trash-strewn alleys of 1985, Doc and Marty knew they needed a plan to reverse the past and make the present right again. Just like they had to devise a plan to return to 1955 and steal Biff's fateful sports almanac, the Panthers need to devise a plan to clip the wings of a Philadelphia team coming off of two straight wins, surging in the NFC East and motivated to prove the doubters wrong. Philadelphia has fixed several early-season hang-ups, maximizing their strengths and minimizing their weaknesses. Taking them down won't be an easy task, but here's a few keys to making it happen: 1) Take advantage of a soft interior line. This is probably the Eagles' biggest weakness personnel-wise. Guards Allen Barbre and Matt Tobin are playing some of the worst positional football in the league, consistently allowing penetration by defensive tackles on both running and passing downs. More surprisingly, center Jason Kelce is having the worst year of his professional career (perhaps Panthers fans can sympathize, having watched Ryan Kalil's effectiveness plunge when sandwiched between subpar talent.) Star Lotulelei and Kawann Short should both have huge days. 2) Force DeMarco Murray to run laterally. One of the Eagles' biggest problems over the course of the season has been trying to get Murray going south downfield. He hasn't been able to do it, largely because of terrible interior line play, which plays right into the Panthers' strengths. Interior pressure should force Chip Kelly to treat Murray as the scat back he isn't, sending him outside, around the tackles, where rising star Kony Ealy and newcomer Ryan Delaire are good enough to seal the edge and allow a speedy linebacking corps to come up and make plays. 3) Put the ball in Sam Bradford's hands. Prior to this season Bradford was touted as having the best pass-to-turnover ratio in the league. Not so this year. Bradford has looked atrocious, and it's reflected in the Eagles' bottom-scraping average of 8+ yards to go on third down. Third and long has been standard fare for Bradford through six games and this is where Carolina can force him into mistakes. Bradford's problem hasn't been decision-making, it's been accuracy, and it's hard to imagine a defense better suited for making him pay for off-target balls. The Giants' last-ranked pass defense forced three interceptions last week, so expect a feeding frenzy. 4) Play physically against Philadelphia's receivers. None of them are playing good ball right now, and both have proven susceptible to being nullified at the line of scrimmage when pressed. Jordan Matthews has made a few plays but tends to come up short when it counts (see: game-losing bobble against the Falcons in week one) and Aglohor has proved deeply inconsistent, notching only eight receptions and a fumble through six games. (It's worth noting he didn't practice yesterday and may be out for Sunday's matchup, leaving the number two duties to second-year man Josh Huff, a negligible threat.) Riley Cooper is reliable but dislikes minorities. 5) Isolate the Eagles' cornerbacks. This is going to be key on offense for the Panthers. Last year the Eagles defense struggled in coverage, allowing the most yards after catch in the league, and retooled the entire secondary as an answer. Both safeties are playing at a high level, but corner Byron Maxwell is having an awful year, and his counterpart, Nolan Carroll, is only marginal. There are no tricks to exposing Maxwell. Here's a play the Jets ran in week three: Nothing special, just a deep out run by Brandon Marshall. Maxwell is turn inside in coverage, attempting to direct the route inside where he'll have safety help upfield, or simply not get beat over the top, which has been a problem for him. Much like Cary Williams last week, Maxwell often has to play off the line of scrimmage to avoid getting beat. This buffer often leaves openings for quick cuts and big plays. Cue Brandon Marshall: That's as easy as you're going to get in the NFL. Maxwell plays too far back to recover when Marshall pivots outside, and Fitzpatrick connects with him for a nice gain. The Panthers should be able to take advantage of matchups like this all day. One way Mike Shula can isolate poorly-performing corners like Maxwell is heavy use of two TE sets. A play like the following would likely be successful: Nothing special about this play other than that it utilizes a good tight end and a fast wide receiver. At the bottom of the screen the strong safety will probably have to come up to bracket the TE, Olsen, in the flat, leaving single coverage outside against the receiver (a safer bet than your strong-side linebacker alone against Olsen.) On the upper end of your screen the slot receiver (ideally Philly Brown or Ted Ginn Jr.) will force the free safety to give helped to the nickel back over the top, leaving one-on-one coverage outside for the receiver (who runs an outside hitch in this case.) Plays like this will isolate Maxwell and Carroll in space, where they struggle to position themselves properly against opposing receivers. If the Panthers can do these things they should come out with a convincing win - beating Biff, as it were, and restoring things to the way they were meant to be: victors over the Eagles, undefeated. View full article

sam rapeford