Beer and football II — week five

The game: Jets at Patriots
The beer: Pretty Things Hedgerow Bitter
The result: Win, 30–21
The commentary: My little girl knows what's up. She doesn't get all bothered the way her dad does over how poor a defense a 4–1 team might have. Here she is, really taking the time to weigh all sides of the issue, pondering just how to classify a team with an out-of-this world offense and a bottom-of-the-barrel defense. Maybe she'll have the answers one day. Maybe she'll be able to talk by then. In the meantime: dimples!

Another weird game. Nothing to see here with the offense, thirty points again, thanks for asking. But the defense… the defense! They gave up twenty-one points to a team that, from what I can tell, wasn't trying to score. Instead of letting Sanchez sit back in the face of an anemic pass rush and mix up short and intermediate passes against a weak secondary they decided to try something that hasn't worked all season against the one part of Belichick's defense that hasn't been terrible. Keller was "held to" (since it was an offensive scheme and not a defensive counter-scheme) one catch. That man is a killer! Holmes, Burress, Tomlinson, even this Kerley guy, all wasted by poor offensive coaching. It's almost poetic.

Ground and pound! Ground and pound!
My ground and pound is worl' renowned.
A row of Patsies lef' spellbound
All up n' down the whole playground.

Say there, baby, tightly wound,
Let's you n' me go fool around.
I'll show you what you ain't yet found
And take you there without no bound.

Jus' wait a sec… big Vince's mound…
Nowheres to go, east nor westbound.
Thought ground and pound was too profound.
Thought ground and pound be always crowned.

Too goddamn late to press rewound,
I lose three yards before I's downed.
My green Jet knees done got all browned.
My unsound ground and pound's aground.

Say where you at, my foxy hound?
Catch you on the next rebound?
At least I's got my meat to pound.
Pound and pound! Pound and pound!

The bitter was pretty good. I got it at another one of those tastings. Pretty Things is still Pretty Touch-and-Go to me but I like this one, just not as much as the St. Botolph's. Everyone else at the tasting liked it too and I gave someone the stink eye after I thought he took the last two bombers. More were hidden behind the counter, thankfully, but the stink eye was not rescinded.

Up next: The Jerry Jones Traveling Circus comes to Foxborough. They used the bye week to figure out a new way to stay competitive into the fourth quarter before crapping all over the game of football for the nth time in the Tony Romo era. Cheers!