Beer and football IV — playoffs, week two

The game: Colts at Patriots
The beer: Berkshire Scotch Ale
The result: Win, 43–22; Seth-Aaron, 5–0
The commentary: Quickly, here's what I loved this week.

Turnovers. The defense is trending in the right direction, even if they're still lousy. But turnovers are the great equalizer and more Brady drives can only help against Manning and friends. (So, so many friends.)

The running game? The running game! It demands respect and Brady should be capable of big production through the air against the Broncos. Blount's speed in the open field still amazes me, no matter how many times I see him break one out.

CBS's tasteful goodbye to Dan Dierdorf. Sure, the game was out of hand by then and they could afford to devote time to the man's career, but overall I think it was handled well. Gumbel was genuine and they never made it about Dierdorf the way Fox did about Tim "Ditto" McCarver, with the World Series getting in the way. It was just another football game and they cut away for a minute to give a guy a handshake. And then there was more football. I'll ignore the fact that Dierdorf still can't pronounce Hoomanawanui… starting now.

The Sound FX segment on NFL.com. I thought Dante Scarnecchia's remark to Andrew Luck about how he'll be an NFL champion one day, "I really believe that," was the definition of magnanimous. I'm not convinced Luck heard him—he was already thinking about stray dogs and the Dominators under his bed—but it was cool anyway.

The Scotch ale. It poured beautifully and tasted of victory. Oh shit, I still need a beer for Sunday!

Seth-Aaron winning Also-Rans III. Sorry I'm a week late with this. On a related note…

Having the useless anti-mentor Zanna Roberts Rassi out of my life for a few months. Those twins ought to knock her down a peg.

The phone call from my wife and daughter last week. A. told me how well G. did with breakfast and I heard her yelling "Say 'Yay me!'" in the background. She wanted me to be proud of her and tell her "Yay G!" I was and I did.

More beautiflism with Dressed to Kill. The café was playing this album at breakfast the morning of the game. "G.," I said, "they're playing Kiss." And so she leaned over to gave me a kiss. How I love her.

The songs I heard toward, at and away from my dentist appointment this morning. Here's a representative No Cavities playlist, in order, courtesy (mostly) of an itchy Sirius trigger finger.

1. Les Fleur de Lys – Circles
Superior to the Who's excellent original. The back story of this recording, as told in the liner notes of the Nuggets II boxed set, underscores how fully ridiculous the insular English pop scene (management, contracts, etc.) was in the mid sixties.

2. James Brown – Get Up, Get Into It, Get Involved
Switched to Soul Town when "Circles" was followed by weak bullshit on the Underground Garage. Let's clean some teeth! Two times!

3. George Harrison – What Is Life
Heard this triple-album standout while being threatened about my flossing habits. No idea what station they had on but it was pretty good.

4. The Band – The Weight
I'm free! Classic Vinyl: on. Let's go to Starbucks and coat the inside of my mouth with sugar. It always drives me nuts when bands with great singers (Jack Bruce in Cream, Steve Marriott in the Small Faces, Roger Daultrey in the Who and Levon Helm in the Band) make a democratic process out of everything and let lesser talents (Eric Clapton, Ronnie Lane, Pete Townshend and Rick Danko) take the mic. I love the way Helm wrestles it back for the last verse here, though not without struggle.

5. Marvin Gaye – Can I Get a Witness
Sooouuul Town! "Is it right to be treated so bad when you give her everything you had?" Probably not. Is it right to slash your ex-girlfriend's tires while she's working at the hair salon? Only if you have a good lawyer.

6. Jethro Tull – To Cry You a Song
Deep Tracks for the home stretch. Not as strong as the earlier "Song for Jeffrey" but better than any flute-drenched morass that came after. The fade-out carried me into the garage. See you in six months, doc.

Up next: It's the AFC Championship for the third goddamn year in a row. Indeed, G. and I are spoiled. Cheers!