Nomar Day revisited

July 31, 2004. Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciaparra is traded (indirectly) for shortstop Orlando Cabrera and first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz. It was the strangest thing—a large group of us had collected at our friend Hector's (false name) suburban backyard to celebrate his thirtieth birthday party. The news rolled out fast, someone probably shouting from the porch "Nomah's gahn!" (the "Boston accent" is not as common as everyone—New Englanders included—like to pretend, but it does tend to prevail the more one drinks). I had no idea at all how to react. He'd been a big part of the team almost going to the World Series the year before, but perhaps they'd be better without him. My nth beer was not so helpful in the clear-thinking department.

We all know what happened months later but that's not the point—my version would devolve into bitterness over losing Cabrera and others the following year anyway. Hector, my other best friend Ivan (false name) and I came up with a project a month or so earlier: wouldn't it be fun to pick favorite songs from the same favorite bands and stick them on mixes, then compare notes? We agreed on a list of seventeen classic artists we all liked, figuring seventeen four- to five-minute songs would fill up a CDR. The deadline was July 31 and the plan was to play them during the hours-long party. I wish I could remember what was playing when the Nomar news broke.

Our tastes did generally diverge: highbrow art like Dead Meadow and the Stooges on my side, a bunch of ska and other nonsense on theirs. So we focused on classic rock with a little punk and rap. Here's the list, in any order:

AC/DC
Aerosmith
Alice Cooper
Beastie Boys
Black Flag
Black Sabbath
Creedence Clearwater Revival
Fugazi
Kiss
Led Zeppelin
Metallica
Public Enemy
Ramones
Rolling Stones
Run-DMC
Ted Nugent
Van Halen

Three additional options were available if one elected to fill out eighty minutes: Ozzy Osbourne, James Brown and the Beatles. I'm curious how we managed to leave out NWA, Bad Brains and Hendrix… simmering racism? Anyhoo, I had fun putting it together and I think it turned out pretty well. But what changes might I make if I were to do this today? I'm glad I asked! Russell Johnson might not have been able to save President Lincoln in that time-bending Twilight Zone episode but it won't stop me from altering things.

1. Van Halen – Hot for Teacher
Excellent job here. Fantastic song, good way to start things off. But I feel bad for neglecting Fair Warning, my favorite Van Halen album. The unusual "Sunday Afternoon in the Park" paired with "One Foot Out the Door" (really one track, as on the album), though, is something I'd be proud of today. I choose you, Sunday One Foot.

Friend picks: Hector also went with "Hot for Teacher" and Ivan chose "House of Pain." Some serious 1984 action! "Teacher" represents the first bit of symmetry between the three of us: each shared one song with the other two.

2. AC/DC – Whole Lotta Rosie
Wouldn't touch this quintessential Bon Scott song. Others contend, sure, but why bother? Rosie's bigger than all of them.

Friend picks: "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" (from 1992's Live) and "Whole Lotta Rosie." Not sure why Hector had to settle for a live, constipated Brian Johnson version of this excellent song. "Rosie" is shared song number two. Funny how I got them out of the way quick.

3. Beastie Boys – So What'cha Want
Nice pick, again, but why not go with something you don't still hear on the radio? Where's "She's on It"? "Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun"? "Stand Together"? It's "Barrel," for the Mountain sample.

Friend picks: "Hold It Now, Hit It" and "Hey Ladies." One of the lesser-known (and weaker, if you ask me) songs from License to Ill and probably the most-popular song from Paul's Boutique. It's a rollercoaster ride with these guys.

4. Metallica – Master of Puppets
I really like this song but I suspect I chose it because it was the right length or it worked well with everything around it. But I'll take "Creeping Death," and not just because watching The Ten Commandments is an annual Easter highlight.

Friend picks: "So What" and "Crash Course in Brain Surgery." Hector seems more interested in funny, tongue-in-cheek songs, demonstrated here and later with the Nuge. In fact, I'm confident he'd list the Dead Milkmen as one of his ten favorite bands—I suppose not everyone can have sophisticated taste like, say, a die-hard Blue Cheer fan. But I was jealous of Ivan's "Crash Course" pick here.

5. Creedence Clearwater Revival – Born on the Bayou
Money. The perfect CCR song.

Friend picks: "Down on the Corner" and "Fortunate Son." I'd make a joke about the two of them only being familiar with Chronicle if my selection weren't just as popular. But "Born on the Bayou" is on Chronicle, Vol. 2.

6. Rolling Stones – Jumpin' Jack Flash
Sheesh. I still really like this song but I hear it at least once a week in the car. I remember almost going with "Stray Cat Blues" but thinking Hector and Ivan never would have heard it before. Regrettable. Anyway, over the weekend I read the Exile on Main St. volume of the 33⅓ series (more on this when I get to writing about Trout Mask Replica) and though it's not my favorite Stones album I'm compelled to go with "Rocks Off," "Turd on the Run" or "Ventilator Blues/Just Wanna See His Face" over slightly older favorites like "Stray Cat," "Monkey Man" and "Sway." "Rocks Off," for Keef's backing vocals.

Friend picks: "Brown Sugar" and "Can't You Hear Me Knocking." I no longer bother with "Brown Sugar." If I walk up Lynn Shore Drive for twenty minutes tomorrow I guarantee I'll hear it blast out of at least one car window. I knew Ivan would pick "Knocking" because we both have always liked it. Good for him for being predictable in a good way, even if I suspect he wanted to fade it out halfway through.

7. Ramones – Cretin Hop
Safe but nice song from my favorite Ramones album at the time, Rocket to Russia. Nowadays I lean more toward the first two albums. They're all basically the same. I think, though, that "Today Your Love, Tomorrow the World" screams for inclusion. I relent.

Friend picks: "Somebody Put Something in My Drink" and "Rockaway Beach." Hector picked a weird, weird song. Good for him. He probably put more thought into this one than he did the rest of the comp. Or it was handy, I don't know. More Russia love elsewhere from Ivan. Pinko bastards!

8. Aerosmith – Big Ten Inch Record
I'm sticking with the sex puns. Nice horns, tight arrangement, same old crappy Joey Kramer drumming.

Friend picks: "The Farm" and "Toys in the Attic." I'd never heard "The Farm" before this mix. I understand why. Say what you will about Aerosmith but even haters have to admit that song's not in the same league as the well worn "Toys in the Attic."

9. Black Sabbath – War Pigs
Classic. An overplayed song that I never tire of. I contribute by playing it in bars whenever I get the chance, managing (most of the time) to not cringe when Ozzy rhymes "masses" with… "masses." So it was either this or the entire first album.

Friend picks: "Am I Going Insane (Radio)" and "Supernaut." Never really liked "Am I Going Insane." It came right before "Laguna Sunrise" on my old We Sold Our Soul for Rock & Roll cassette so I could fast-forward straight through the both of them. Convenient! "Supernaut" is a great pick from the mostly good Vol. 4.

10. Run-DMC – Sucker MCs
Classic, but so old-school sounding that it sticks out like a sore thumb against the straightforward rock. One solution is to go with a guitar-oriented favorite like "Raising Hell" so it blends in better. Mine is to strip it all the way down with the live "Here We Go."

Friend picks: "Mary, Mary" and "King of Rock." My new Raising Hell selection completes the sequential-album sandwich.

11. Black Flag – Fix Me
"Nervous Breakdown" was actually my first pick but it was too long to fit. Indeed, two minutes was too long. Anyway, as much as I like the Rollins era I love the short-and-sweet Keith Morris era. "Fix Me" is fantastic but its brevity gets swallowed here. I'll let the band stretch out on my original "Nervous Breakdown" because it was the first song on their first release and its closing "…diiiiieeeeeeeee!" was more heavily produced than anything that followed.

Friend picks: "Louie, Louie" (Everything Went Black version) and "Nervous Breakdown." I like the "Mary, Mary"/"Louie, Louie" action from Hector, even though they didn't come back-to-back on his mix. He took the long view. In related news, I'm currently enjoying Dave Marsh's Louie, Louie: The History and Mythology of the World's Most Famous Rock & Roll Song; Including the Full Details of Its Torture and Persecution at the Hands of the Kingsmen, J. Edgar Hoover's FBI and a Cast of Millions; and Introducing, for the First Time Anywhere, the Actual Dirty Lyrics.

12. Fugazi – Walken's Syndrome
Not sure why I felt the need to represent my least-favorite Fugazi album. Killer song though. I was self-conscious about picking anything from Red Medicine or later, for some reason, which is really dumb even before hearing Ivan's "Bed for the Scraping." The lesson, as always, is to never care at all what other people think. Also, to always take compilations seriously enough so that, years later, you won't pick apart your own decisions on a blog no one reads. It's tempting to keep "Walken's Syndrome" because I've lately (as in the last fifteen years) preferred Guy's songs to Ian's. And Steady Diet of Nothing's "KYEO" ("Keep Your Eyes Open") offers good advice, particularly (again) when criticizing your younger self. "Lusty Scripps" and "Version" are tempting instrumentals. But it's going to have to be "Ex-Spectator" from the final (?) album The Argument, which I bought at a Yale University record store of all places.

Friend picks: "Waiting Room" and "Bed for the Scraping." Can't really go wrong with "Waiting Room" but five out of ten Americans would choose it given the opportunity. As I said, "Bed for the Scraping" was a nice surprise. (It's not like Red Medicine is this super complex masterwork but it's certainly more mature and experimental—yet looser—than anything before it. "Target" was even a minor hit around here.) It closed out Ivan's disc: brilliant maneuver, even as I (still today) expect "Latest Disgrace" to kick right in. And if you can't tell by now I think his mix rivaled my own, even after I'm done correcting sixty percent of it.

13. Kiss – Love Gun (live)
With Kiss, I only ever cared about Alive! and Alive II until fairly recently. Little did I know I was missing out on honest-to-god gems like "Strange Ways" and "Hooligan" (two Peter Criss songs… I'm as surprised as you are!). At the time, I naturally had to go with a live song. Unfortunately—as I chided "Dirty Deeds" above and then hypocrited myself here and with James Brown's "There Was a Time"—it's clumsy to slot random live songs among studio recordings. So I'll keep "Love Gun" but substitute the proper Love Gun version.

Friend picks: "Shout It Out Loud" and "Strutter." Solid gold. Every time I hear "Shout It Out Loud" I think of the online Globe or Phoenix review of one of the Kiss concerts the three of us attended. The guy wrote something like "We didn't know what 'it' was but we were shouting it." This was on the Psycho Circus tour so we're talking 1998, which means I was already not reading newspapers… a year after graduating with a BA in journalism. The printed word is sure taking its sweet-ass time to die.

14. Ted Nugent – Just What the Doctor Ordered
Had to reach a bit here since I wasn't (and am not) the biggest Nugent fan. "Stranglehold" would be my automatic pick but it must have been too long, plus I knew Ivan would use it anyway. I toyed with a couple of Amboy Dukes songs but thought that might be cheating, so I went with a ZZ Top-esque "Doctor." Ivan had never heard it before Nomar Day and told me it was awesome. Hector might have been in the bouncy house at the time. Regardless, I'm now taking the Amboy Dukes route and picking the obvious, excellent "Journey to the Center of the Mind." I loved it then and I love it now, no matter how many car commercials co-opt it. Besides, "Stranglehold" is still too long to fit.

Friend picks: "Kiss My Ass" and "Stranglehold." Nugent played "Kiss My Ass" when we saw him open for Kiss for the fourth and final (?) time. It was this generation's "Commonwealth Song." A couple hours later I made my classic "Love Theme From Kiss" joke.

15. Alice Cooper – School's Out
Really disappointed in myself for not branching away from many hit songs. In my defense I hadn't yet explored Alice's catalog, I guess, but if I could discover "Just What the Doctor Ordered" then I should have dug deeper for Alice. I'll go with the driving "Return of the Spiders" from 1970's pre-stardom Easy Action.

Friend picks: "Billion Dollar Babies" for the both of them. Copacetic, baby. Can't believe I only recently recognized Donovan's co-vocal there.

16. Public Enemy – Don't Believe the Hype
So many great songs on the first three albums and you can't not love "Don't Believe the Hype." Silly rabbit. But… "Terminator X to the Edge of Panic" is the complete Public Enemy experience. "Who gives a fuck about a goddamn Grammy!" And the Queen sample? The Queen sample! Obvious samples are in.

Friend picks: "Fight the Power" (from Do the Right Thing) and "Bring the Noise" (from It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back). Holy version distinction!

17. James Brown – There Was a Time (live)
I think I'd recently bought Say It Live and Loud and "There Was a Time" was relentless love at first sound. Unfortunately my meddling squeezes James out this time, but that's OK because I named my 2007 playlist in his honor.

Friend pick: "Hot Pants (She Got to Use What She Got to Get What She Wants) (Part 1)" for Hector. He still had eight minutes of space after using all twenty artists. That'll happen when none of your songs top six minutes. Ivan had six minutes left but he outright ignored JB and the Beatles.

18. Led Zeppelin – How Many More Times
This will be my favorite Zeppelin song until the end of time. Those old coots at WZLX have even started playing it during their "Stairway to Seven" segment, daily at 7:00. (You see, it's a play on… never mind.)

Friend picks: "Immigrant Song" and "Moby Dick." I've always liked "Immigrant Song" but the only thing you hear more on the radio is "Rock & Roll," which I no longer listen to. I wonder if I'll ever skip past "Immigrant Song." In other words, it's exactly what I would expect Hector to half-heartedly pick. Oh well, it was his party I guess. "Moby Dick" was another pleasant surprise from Ivan, particularly when the assumed "Bring It on Home" didn't kick right in. What a cold, harsh edit. Well done.

In other news, Hector exercised his options with Ozzy's "Goodbye to Romance" (there's your tongue-in-cheek thing) and the Beatles' "Eleanor Rigby" (baroo?). Ozzy showed up on Ivan's mix with "Bark at the Moon." If I'd had to fill a Beatles slot then my backward-glancing guess would be either "Tomorrow Never Knows" or, more likely (since Ivan, some other friends and I used to crack up over "goo goo g'joob" in high school), "I Am the Walrus." With Ozzy, probably "Mr. Crowley" or "Bark at the Moon." How I did rue the limitations of the compact disc. [Edit: See below for my rule-breaking 2011 picks.]

New! Improved! Please note the editorial decision to retcon a Bad Brains allowance because there's room for it. Seventeen feels odd anyhow. Har! Har!

1. Led Zeppelin – How Many More Times
2. Beastie Boys – Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun
3. Van Halen – Sunday Afternoon in the Park/One Foot Out the Door
4. AC/DC – Whole Lotta Rosie
5. Rolling Stones – Rocks Off
6. Metallica – Creeping Death
7. Run-DMC – Here We Go (Live at the Funhouse)
8. Amboy Dukes – Journey to the Center of the Mind
9. Creedence Clearwater Revival – Born on the Bayou
10. Black Flag – Nervous Breakdown
11. Public Enemy – Terminator X to the Edge of Panic
12. Ramones – Today Your Love, Tomorrow the World
13. Fugazi – Ex-Spectator
14. Alice Cooper – Return of the Spiders
15. Bad Brains – Supertouch/Shitfit
16. Black Sabbath – War Pigs
17. Aerosmith – Big Ten Inch Record
18. Kiss – Love Gun

Better, right? Rod Serling chimes in with a solid "maybe." I'll take it.

---

Bonus revisionist EP alert!

1. Beatles – Strawberry Fields Forever
With age comes perspective, and I'm finally mature enough to recognize this as the greatest Beatles song.

2. James Brown – Down and Out in New York City
A favorite of mine since college, when I placed it on a classic rock/funk mixtape called I Am a Tired Old Woman. Extended version from the Make It Funky: The Big Payback compilation.

3. Ozzy Osbourne – Over the Mountain
I'm fine with this, but I'd much rather cheat in Amboy Dukesian fashion and choose another Sabbath song. Erm…

3. Ozzy Osbourne – Over the Mountain
3. Black Sabbath – Warning
It's my goddamn blog.

Eternal optimism in an age of supposed parity when two teams win five (and almost seven) of the last ten Super Bowls

Some observations from Sunday's game before going all Patriots batshit:

"Labor uncertainty" is the new "all-important third preseason game." Please set aside all non-NFL-related uses of this phrase until a labor agreement is reached.

How about Ben Roethlisberger? That's three horrible Super Bowl performances, and finally one the Steelers didn't win in spite of him. It's fun listening to Michael Wilbon say he would still take him over any other quarterback… and then criticize Pittsburgh's offensive game plan for "putting it all on Roethlisberger." What a pure goddamn fool he is. (Battery mate Tony Kornheiser called Jay Cutler "a top-flight NFL player" a few weeks ago. Why do I listen to this shit?)

Aaron Rodgers was on Letterman last night and admitted he didn't have much faith in his team's kick-coverage unit. That's exactly the kind of maturity you want in your Super Bowl MVP. On a related note, head coach Mike McCarthy will be out of a job in five or six years.

Even if the Steelers had won another title I would have maintained a certain satisfaction that they managed to avoid playing the Patriots yet again. Avoid isn't the right word, really, because it's not the Steelers' fault the Pats weren't good enough to make it as far as they did. But if Steeler fans can keep spending their unemployment checks on yellow towels then I can enjoy this petty victory.

Let's see, according to every writer in New England the turning point for the Packers this season was a game against the Patriots that they would have won if Rodgers played. So the realization they came to before ripping off six straight wins was: make sure your starting quarterback starts. Never mind that the actual reason they lost that one the way they did was not because of poor play from the backup quarterback but rather some horrible Andy Reid-esque clock management by a seasoned head coach who should know better. See item three above.

My favorite commercial was for BMW or Mercedes or whatever it was with the rich white guys breaking out of rich-white-guy prison. It seems no one in America is talking about it, which tells me I'm right. Also, "Cram It in the Boot" for Mini had me snickering like a fourteen-year-old. I had to rewind to make sure I'd seen what I'd just seen and yes, he slipped a huge hoagie dick into that boot. I suspect the spot will never air in this country again.

Google produces more than seven hundred thousand results for "national anthem fail." Christina Aguilera will somehow pull it together and continue to sleep on a big pile of money every night.

Joe Buck continues to sleep on big piles of conceit, self-righteousness and malaise.

That about covers things. It was a good game but I couldn't really get into it. Certainly not the same experience when your team isn't participating. Along those lines, all in all I think the Patriots are in a great spot for next season. Everyone, only now, is conveniently calling 2010 a rebuilding year and they're right, even if they waited until elimination to admit it. Anyway, here's a projection of September's forty-five-man game-day roster (plus eight inactives), with a mix of what I think will happen and what needs to happen. Not a lot will change—I'm looking for the youngsters to keep on keepin' on—but the players being replaced are some pretty big, established names. Offense comes first (like it has since 2007) and an asterisk indicates a starter. Apologies for not really knowing how many reserve offensive linemen, defensive backs, etc., teams tend to carry on game days.

Quarterbacks
Tom Brady*
Brian Hoyer
Jonathan Crompton (practice-squad eligible)/[Veteran free agent]

Hoyer is the well established backup. We haven't seen much of him, and he's surely young and has demonstrated that he can be rattled, but I think Belichick likes him. I do too. Then again, I was among the majority who thought Matt Cassel should have been cut in favor of Matt Gutierrez in 2008. The only difference is most of those lunatics are now wishing we traded Brady and signed Cassel long term. Patriots fans are idiots. As for the third "emergency" option (a position not included on the game-day roster for some time, possibly due to Julian Edleman's college experience), I think it will be fully manned by the practice squad's Compton or some journeyman veteran who may or may not have filled the roll on this team in the past. Brady is not prone to injuries but with some major recent surgeries—and encroaching (five yards!) middle age—I think it's time to employ more than one full-time backup.

Running Backs
BenJarvus Green-Ellis*
Danny Woodhead
Thomas Clayton

People around here are begging for a first-round, every-down back. I wonder why everyone wants to fuck with a formula that worked pretty well with Green-Ellis and Woodhead sharing the load. Much more important things to spend those high picks on. I see all three 2010 veterans either retiring—Kevin Faulk, a true gentleman and American hero who I hope becomes a coach on this team—or moving on—Fred Taylor, who could have been wonderful here if he wasn't repeatedly betrayed by his body, and Sammy Morris, possibly the most underrated member of the team the past few years (except for 2010). Fun group, but it is indeed time to get younger. I see Thomas Clayton moving up from the practice squad and getting a lot of special-teams experience the way Green-Ellis did, then maybe a third-or-so-rounder getting some carries later in the season.

Wide Receivers
Deion Branch*
Wes Welker*
Julian Edelman
Brandon Tate

Maybe a mid- to late-round pick to add to the mix, but I don't see much to change here. Local blowhards are demanding a Moss-like field-stretcher and seem to think we can pry a slightly disgruntled Larry Fitzgerald from Arizona for a bag of balls, proving once and for all that there is no bottom when it comes to the intelligence of people who follow the Patriots. The offense sucked in the Jets loss but, just like with the running backs, I'm not ready to ditch everything that worked so well in the regular season. The only wild card is Welker—weird year for him. He exceeded all expectations by returning so quickly and solidly from last season's injury, but despite more touchdowns than usual he dropped a shitload of passes and there's speculation that he's unhappy with his contract (I don't believe that based on recent comments). Edelman is an excellent receiver… when Welker is inactive. When Welker is in the game Edelman plays sporadically, consequently dropping passes or getting assaulted in the middle of the field, and often both. But when he doesn't have to worry about being benched he does a pretty convincing (and cheaper) Welker imitation. Very strange. I'm left wondering what he could turn into if Welker and his looming shadow were traded or released. I like Tate to continue to be a decent kick-returner, drop some passes and make the (very) occasional excellent offensive play. Second-year guy Taylor Price is the question mark: if he develops like some analysts anticipate he could morph into a reliable David Givens-type of possession receiver with added big-play potential. Exciting to see what he might do.

Tight Ends
Rob Gronkowski*
Aaron Hernandez*
Alge Crumpler

Gronkowski and Hernandez are locks, of course, but I really hope the team retains Crumpler. I see no point in discarding him in favor of a less-expensive veteran. He's a captain, he does amazing high fives with Gronkowski and I want him, Taylor and Branch to start a free-form talk show. They are the smoothest, most upstanding individuals around and I'd love to hear their level-headed realism regarding everyday things like the Verizon iPhone, Egypt and shoveling your sidewalk.

Offensive Line
Matt Light (LT)*
Logan Mankins (LG)*
[Draft pick] (C)*
Dan Connolly (RG)*
Sebastian Vollmer (LT)*
Ryan Wendell
Quinn Ojinnaka

I had some trouble here. Light had a good season but I thought, no matter what, it would be his last one here (he's a free agent). More on that in a second. Dan Koppen seems like a nice guy but he's a little undersized, and I think the team needs to spend one of their higher picks on a big athletic center. For that reason, and because Mankins might be gone (he'll likely be back if you ask me, but still; I know nothing about football), I don't think Belichick will want to have to replace at least two starting veterans with rookies or free agents. So I'd go with a rookie center in this year's draft and a rookie right tackle (Vollmer shifting over to the left side, unless some monster left tackle is available) next year. It pains me to leave off my man Stephen Neal—he is outrageously athletic when he's able to play and he's super-fun to watch on late-developing screen passes, but I think the most recent is one injury too many. He will retire. Too bad. Connolly—clearly athletic as well, with the amazing kickoff return against the Packers (maybe Rodgers wasn't so out of line)—will become the full-time right guard. And, if you haven't noticed, I have no confidence in Nick Kaczur as a tackle or a guard. He was penciled in at left guard last preseason (when it became clear that Mankins wouldn't be back) and then hurt himself before playing a down. This follows his right-tackle job being taken away from him two seasons ago by a German rookie. So suddenly he's a returning starter? At a new position? I don't see it. He'll be dealing drugs in Canada by October. [Edit: I added the Kaczur rant after realizing I neglected to explain my decision to leave him off the roster. (I admit to cleaning up the words but not the meaning of older posts when not writing shiny new ones.) I hadn't heard anything about the team's potential—and still unproven—decision to cut him. After this revelation, however, I would like to move my drug-dealing projection up to March.]

Defensive Line
Ron Brace (DE)*
Vince Wilfork (NT)*
Kyle Love (DE)*
Myron Pryor
Mike Wright
Gerard Warren

Weird year for this crew. Ty Warren goes down before the season starts and who knows what we can expect from him. I'd love to see him return to his dominant pre-injury self at right defensive end. Only thing, he was never a dominant player the way Richard Seymour was or Wilfork can at times be. I think Belichick sees what the young guys (Pryor, Brace, Love and Deaderick) can do around Wilfork, Wright and Gerard Warren (who admirably filled the Warren role but probably doesn't have the trade value and/or high contract of Ty). Wilfork finally displayed some three-down flexibility (as well as some excruciatingly boring interview skills… when he actually sucks it up and gives interview, like following huge wins where he plays well) and I think we'll see more four-man lines like we did this season. Unfortunately, too many injuries stunted a lot of potential 2010 development.

Linebackers
Rob Ninkowivh (OLB)*
Jerod Mayo (ILB)*
Brandon Spikes (ILB)*
Jermaine Cunningham (OLB)*
Gary Guyton
Eric Moore
Dane Fletcher

We need an outside rusher who can consistently pressure the quarterback and make awesome defensive-player-of-the-year type plays in the middle of the field. That man is not on the team right now. I don't know who or where he is. But I wish Belichick would just take a fucking chance for once and draft a guy who might make an immediate impact, even if he is a little shorter than some perfect-on-paper prospect. In other news, Tully Banta-Cain has been a nice player but he is fourth-best behind a converted long snapper, a serviceable second-round pick and a UFL player. Patriots All Access also did a feature this year on his side career as a shitty R&B singer. Sorry, TBC. You're cut. Maybe we'll see you again in three years. Again.

Cornerbacks
Devin McCourty*
Leigh Bodden*
Kyle Arrington
Darius Butler

Count me among the people disappointed—at the time—with last year's McCourty draft pick. Not because I thought he was a lousy player—I don't follow college football in any capacity—but because the first thing the "experts" on the NFL Network said about him was that he was a strong special-teams player. That wasn't what I was looking for in a first-round pick. But it turns out he is indeed an excellent special-teams player and an even better cornerback. I'm excited to see what he can do this year opposite Leigh Bodden, winner of the award for Least Talked-About but Most Defense-Crippling Injury of 2010. Arrington was OK but I liked it better when he was a strong special-teams player who occasionally played some defensive back. Butler is hanging on by a thread—he is just not that good. Even in the few times when he played perfect coverage—as in, not an Ellis-Hobbsian seven yards behind the play—the receiver would end up with the ball. Either he or Wilhite will be inactive on game day and then cut by the end of the year.

Safeties
Patrick Chung*
James Sanders*
Jarrad Page

Now that Brandon Meriweather is a two-time Pro-Bowler I wonder if we'd be able to get a seventh-round pick for him. Good riddance. His contract is up after next season but I don't even want to wait that long. What a horrible, horrible player he is. If you meet someone who claims to be a Pats fan and you are wondering how carefully he follows the team, just ask what he thinks of Meriweather. If he says anything more flattering than "Substandard" then you are speaking with a fake fan or to Meriweather himself. Other than that, I like what I've seen from Chung and (in limited situations) Page and Brown. I think either Page or Brandon McGowan (returning from injury) will be back in that spy-Dallas-Clark type of role, but not both. James Sanders is a good player with a great attitude and his is the role the team will look to fill via the draft, either this year or next. Honestly, they can dump Meriweather and do nothing else with this crew and it will have improved.

Specialists
Stephen Gostkowski (K)
Zoltan Mesko (P)
Matt Katula (LS)
Matthew Slater
Tracy White

Haven't read anything saying Gostkowski will not return at full strength. Then again, I don't read notable fucktards Mike Felger, Tony Massarotti or Dan Shaughnessy. I appreciate Shayne Graham and the fill-in job he did for us but I hope we don't need him, and that he succeeds on another team. Mesko was fine and another year of training camp should hopefully tighten up his mechanics. Katula did what he was supposed to do (the botched fake punt against the Jets was not his fault) in being totally forgettable so I don't see a point in drafting a replacement. (He also reminds me of Metallica's "The Call of Ktulu," which is the fine closing instrumental from the award-winning Ride the Lightning.) There are a lot of Slater-haters… and I'm one of them when he's on the field for anything other than kicks and punts (as a coverage/cover man, not a returner). But he rings up special-teams tackles and looks like an incognito superhero with his glasses on, so there's value there. He'll count as a never-used receiver on game day. Same as "linebacker" White, who will probably be back as a big-four special-teamer.

Inactives
Taylor Price (for now)
Sergio Brown (for now)
Brandon Deaderick
Rich Ohrnberger
Jonathan Wilhite
Running back [Draft pick]
Cornerback/Safety [Draft pick]
Outside linebacker [Draft pick]

So there you have it: the uninformed ramblings of someone who has never played a down of meaningful football. Matter of fact I fractured the tip of my ring finger the last time I played a pick-up game—twelve or thirteen years ago—slamming it against the frozen Brighton tundra after whiffing on a Thanksgiving weekend tackle. Guess what, though: I played through that shit.

Beer and football — playoffs, week two

The game: Jets at Patriots
The beer: Cody Unz Ya Altbier
The result: Fuuuuuuck
The commentary: I know nothing about football.

Spending a week away from the game is a good way to deal with the end of your team's season. I don't know what I would have done without the Golden Globes—A. was all excited to watch, and when the game was over and she asked if I was going to watch the postgame stuff I harumphed and changed the channel. The red carpet and Ricky Gervais were just what I needed, as self-aggrandizing celebrity culture does well to balance out football-related despondency.

It's a good thing I'm not superstitious or else I might got into it's-all-my-fault mode. A couple of weeks ago I picked up the Cody altbier (my least-favorite beer of the season—insofar as I actually didn't like it at all—paired well with the Pats' worst game of the season) and, for the "inevitable" championship game, Berkshire's "Shabadoo" Black & Tan Ale. I knew I'd want something reliable for what figured to be a tough matchup against the Steelers–Ravens winner. Drag.

So on Sunday, following a week-long media blackout (no Mike Reiss, no PFW in Progress, no Patriots Daily), I muted the games, drank my Shabadoo and finally finished the Krakauer book (highly recommended) before starting Jonathan Safran Foer's so-far-irritating Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Some Christmases ago I gave it to A. because I liked the cover. She never got through it and it's been sitting on our shelf ever since, dying to be sold or donated. I'm turned off by contemporary authors who can't just produce a good story but I thought I'd give it a shot, though I can already tell I should have chosen to reread The Bachman Books instead of engaging another "next great American novelist" who wears trendy glasses and does forest-crippling things with typography. Say what you will about Dan Brown (I can't remember if Digital Fortress or Deception Point was my guilty pleasure a few years ago because they're basically the same book) but I think well designed ambigrams are more interesting than scanned scraps of notepaper and purposely illegible text. And I guess some readers can't be trusted to imagine what two-and-a-half pages of integers might look like. Anyway, I look forward to not seeing the movie.

The healing process began Saturday evening when I watched the ESPN documentary Four Days in October, chronicling the 2004 Red Sox comeback over the Yankees. I loved the behind-the-scenes clips and puzzled over the value of intermittently cutting to Bill Simmons (someone I used to enjoy reading until he morphed into this generation's Rick Reilly a few years ago) and Lenny Clarke (ditto Don Rickles) sitting in a bar, not drinking their beers and trying to provide context as if the series played out in a world without cable television. (The Sports Guy lost me in 2007 when, long after the fact, he said Jarvis Green—someone with significant playing time over a number of years—and not Marquise Hill—who didn't play a meaningful down his entire (short) career—was the Patriots' defensive lineman who died in a jet ski accident. Does he even follow this team when his bookie's not around?) Anyway, I walked away encouraged… by the Yankees. They lost, they continued with moderate success for a bit and then they won again in 2009. It's the same blueprint if the Pats can win next year or the year after and, despite how upset I am that it didn't work out this year, I have no reason to believe they won't be right back in this thing in September. The quarterback just had the second-best season of his career (maybe the best, if you consider the talent differential from 2007), some defensive building blocks are in place with Vince Wilfork, Devin McCourty and Jerod Mayo (who still needs to emerge as a consistent playmaker) and the young guys learned the hard way that it's not all kittens and pancakes—hopefully they'll want to know what it feels like to win a playoff game.

Watching the Jets lose was rewarding, particularly because their idiotic roughing-the-punter penalty contributed to the outcome. While everyone was raving about what a remarkable quarterback Sanchez had become they forgot that his crunch-time three-and-out two weeks earlier was saved by a similarly idiotic roughing-the-punter by the Colts. Sanchez is pretty good and maybe even plain good—he played well against the Pats, aside from some early accuracy problems—and stability at that position will keep the Pats–Jets rivalry going for years.

I rooted for the Packers in the NFC game because they've had some bad luck this year and because Cutler and the Bears are exceptionally overrated. I hope they destroy the Steelers—no more picking the lesser of two AFC evils. Each yellow-thighed team is capable of playing poorly but this should be an exciting, high-scoring affair featuring two aggressive defenses, one athletic quarterback and one athletic sex-offending quarterback. Just remember that I know nothing about football.

Up next: One more Patriots post and then I'll start working on a year-in-music list. Beer and football will return next season. Cheers!

I hope Jess still has a job

Courtesy of our CBS affiliate's local-news feed. I don't know if "Jess Will Type Headlines Here" is actually the subject of the story because it links to a dead page, but I'm guessing Jess is shirking her duties and goofing off on Facebook.

Also, Lynn is the next town over from me. Encouraging.

This is indeed a stall tactic to keep from having to write about beer and catastrophe.

Beer and football — playoffs, week one (bye)

The beer: Tetley's English Ale
The commentary: A relaxing, stress-free Sunday is nice for a change. I'm thankful the loudmouth Jets won last night because I'm watching the Ravens push the Chiefs around and I really want no part of them next week. (The week after that, assuming the Pats whoop the Jets, I wouldn't mind a piece of them if they take care of business in Pittsburgh.) Funny story about last night's game, we have a pleasant "sun room" space right off the living room that's large enough for a desk and a recliner. It's got windows on three sides and faces the street and, yes, welcomes the sun every morning. Along the front window we've strung up these blue icicle Christmas lights that turn on and off every evening via a timer. (Never mind that we put them up last Christmas and they've been there ever since. Hey, we like blue things.)

Last night the lights switched off literally two seconds before Folk hit the field goal to end the blue Colts' season. I thought that was pretty cool. If I were a superstitious man I'd hang up some green lights and set the timer to turn them off around 7:30 next Sunday. But I'm not and, besides, I don't fear these Jersey frauds. I don't know if Green-Ellis will get more than sixty yards on the ground (unless it's a blowout and the Pats are trying to kill the clock, though I see them running it up instead) but he and especially Woodhead will do damage through the air, along with just about every other wide receiver and tight end on the team as Brady chucks it around for three hundred or so yards. I'm not expecting a laugher like last time but the Jets will probably be playing catch-up all afternoon, and therefore won't but able to run the ball as much as they'd like. That punk Tomlinson will be pouting by the middle of the third quarter.

Enough football. The Ravens just won anyway. I've got a sip or two of Tetley's remaining (I turn into a child every time I pour a pub can, oohing and aahing as the foam cascades). I included it as part of a make-your-own six-pack yesterday after indulging in a wonderful stout- and porter-tasting event at that new market up the street. The beer distributor hosting it was really nice and enthusiastically allowed me as many half-Dixie cups as I wanted. She was serving Ipswich Oatmeal Stout (which I pick up in Vinnin Square from time to time), Mad River Steelhead Extra Stout (very smooth) and Scotch Porter (so wonderful I walked out with a six-pack and will open one in a minute), Otter Creek Stovepipe Porter (another local winner that supposedly was the most popular) and Southern Tier Choklat Stout (very good but a little too chocolaty to have much in one sitting). Alongside the porter (this is delicious!), I filled out the make-your-own with a can of Dale's Pale Ale and twelve-ounce bottles of Troëgs Java Head Stout (featured earlier this season), Left Hand Milk Stout, a somewhat risky Ithaca "Flower Power" IPA and an exceptionally risky Wells Banana Bread Beer. Feel the apprehension!

I also picked up a couple of bombers for the next two weeks. One of them I know and love and the other is an Amesbury brewer I'm unfamiliar with. I realize I'm taking next week's game for granted in assuming a victory but what are you going to do. (I haven't decided if I'll keep this going if the Pats should lose before reaching the Super Bowl.) Anyway, the new shop apparently did a nice job marketing the event on Facebook because there was a great turnout, even with the snow. (I'm not on Facebook but I was speaking with a guy there and he said that's how he'd heard. I learned of it on my way to the train last week, reading the chalkboard they have hanging outside—no need to worry about security settings with that.) The owner even had some cheese and chocolate available, which was a nice touch. Still, she wasn't particularly friendly even after I spent more than $50 on beer and other treats. It's a neat little place in spite of this, especially to have close by (to have in our town, honestly; there aren't many places here for a middle-class, thirty-something couple to feel welcome) and the number of patrons leaves me encouraged that it might stick around awhile. They're closed on Sundays, but so long as I avoid any blue-law flashbacks I'll have a number of great craft-beer options during my team's potential march to Dallas. Please wish me and my convenience the best of luck.

Up next: It's Jets week. Patriots home crowds tend to suck because real fans (like this guy) are priced out of attending. Still, I have confidence that my sardonic New England brothers and sisters at the Big Razor won't let me down: anyone who can turn foot fetishism, sexual harassment and driving under the influence into an NFL ON CBS sign gets a Scotch Porter on me. Cheers!

In defense of Impulse #AS-95, Edition I

"Be careful, this might make you believe in God." – Me, after giving a CDR (!) of John Coltrane's A Love Supreme and Ascension to a friend for his birthday

Coltrane released Ascension in 1966. I first heard it in the late nineties and finally bought it in 2003 or 2004. It continues to challenge me, as do most things you learn to love for the rest of your life. I discovered the man and his music by accident, having backed into a Pablo CD misleadingly dubbed The Best of John Coltrane. Where I might have ended up with safe studio recordings of ballads I instead was introduced to some groundbreaking (to me, at least) early-sixties European concert performances. It's a wonderful document and I can't imagine jumping into his catalog in better fashion: much earlier and his (relatively) straightforward late-fifties treatment of standards and blues might sound dull; much later and his avant-garde excursions of '65, '66 and '67 could be a little too intense.

(I don't really know what I'm talking about when it comes to jazz. I don't know what modes are and I'll leave it to the nerdophiles to argue whether or not Ascension is free jazz. As with wine, I'm unable to sort out the flavors but I like the way they taste and how they make my brain all swimmy.)

So with each ensuing Coltrane purchase I went forward and backward: Giant Steps (1960) to A Love Supreme (1965) to Blue Train (1957; the one owned by people who own only one, similar to Miles Davis and Kind of Blue) to John Coltrane and Johnny Hartman (1963) to Olé Coltrane (1961), etc. As a result I now celebrate his entire catalog, so I couldn't have gone about it better if I'd tried—particularly because it eased me into what is likely his most divisive album. (From Lewis Porter's essay accompanying Ascension's 2000 reissue: "To some, it was Coltrane's breakthrough album, a bracing declaration of independence from the prevailing musical restrictions. To others, it marked the beginning of a talented musician's disturbing slide into chaos." Reminds me of what Dylan was going through around the same time, except I think Dylan was purposely pissing people off. Coltrane was looking for something new.) Over that time I heard one version or another (I'll get to that in a minute; and in case you don't know, the original LP consisted only of a title track, split into two parts) of "Ascension" and eventually appreciated its transcendent achievement.

It wasn't easy. The preceding A Love Supreme remains my favorite Coltrane album but the nod to its theme at the beginning of "Ascension" wasn't enough to make me a believer. It wasn't so much the squonky nature of the playing—I'd become accustomed to Coltrane and part-time sideman Pharoah Sanders (who plays on Ascension) doing plenty of that for years—but rather the layered, indistinct quality of the non-solo portions.

I won't go into why I like it now when I once did not. I've since been exposed to more "out there" music and I suppose my tastes have opened up or shifted over the years (no more buying stuff based solely on green-light reviews in fucking alterna-rags like some nineteen-year-old asshole, that's for sure; though, in fairness, Spin first pointed me toward the Jesus Lizard's Liar and a year ago I appointed it my favorite album of 1992) so I'm sure that has something to do with it. I also fell harder and harder in love with the drumming of my man Elvin Jones, whose polyrhythmic style (I looked it up) does a lot more for me than succeeding Coltrane drummer Rashied Ali's self-consciously atmospheric playing. I am not a drummer but I'm a sucker for good drumming, and by concentrating on Jones's wild, organic flourishes—still keeping time—I was capable of seeing the big picture.

The eleven-man group recorded two takes of "Ascension" in June 1965. (Another artist would be booed at Newport a month later.) They differ in that the second sounds like it was performed at a slightly quicker pace and therefore is almost two minutes shorter. In addition, Archie Shepp's and John Tchicai's saxophone solos were flip-flopped in the middle (explanation below) and Jones gets a little star time before the concluding ensemble.

When the album was released the following year it contained the second take, with "Part 1" on the A-side and "Part 2" on the B-side. Opinions differ regarding what happened next. The Discogs database (an extremely useful website to have around when considering the tagging/artwork issues mentioned during my fourteen hundred-word introduction to last year's three-hour "best of" playlist), which pulls much of its information from sleeve notes, press releases and magazine articles, explains it one way: "By accident, [producer] Bob Thiele put out the wrong take. After he went through the initial press run, he switched the masters to the other take and inscribed 'Edition II' on the inside of the runout circle." So it was Thiele's error that led to the substitution, right?

Porter's reissue essay tells another story: "Two complete versions of 'Ascension' were recorded, and Coltrane selected one to be released in 1966. Shortly afterward, Coltrane decided he liked the unissued take better, primarily because he didn't like the lack of variety created by the two alto saxophonists [Tchicai and Marion Brown] soloing back to back on the version that was released. Producer Bob Thiele substituted the other take for subsequent pressings, without explanation, even though the solo order didn't match that given in the liner notes. The only hint that this was a different 'Ascension' was the phrase 'Edition II' inscribed in the vinyl near the label." So Coltrane (all along or in retrospect) meant for the first take to be released because he (all along or in retrospect) insisted the Tchicai-then-Shepp-then-Brown order (Shepp's tenor sax separating the two altos) was superior… right?

In the end, different recordings were made available because someone screwed up or someone else changed his mind. Whatever. Imagine if two unique versions of one of your favorite albums existed? (Take a bow, Raw Power!) And imagine if those Hollywood fat cats finally acted in consumers' best interests and bundled each of them together for the price of one? Impulse/Verve/Universal has kindly done so—they generally do a good job with reissues anyway, adding bonus tracks and such, and kudos to them. Now we listeners can indulge in one or the other or both—personally, I prefer the second-take "Edition I." It's a little tighter and the added treat of a Jones solo evolving out of his interplay with bassists Jimmy Garrison (his battery mate since '62) and Art Davis is beautiful. It's short at twenty-five seconds but it propels him into the finale, where to me it sounds like he plays with a little more vigor than in the earlier take. Others will disagree on which is better so it's nice to have both—particularly with a little ambient studio chatter included between tracks.

If not for clumsiness and/or fickleness we might be unable to choose at all without spending $300 on eBay. Thanks again, human nature. You're the best.

Beer and football — week seventeen

The game: Dolphins at Patriots
The beer: Long Trail Imperial Porter
The result: Win, 38–7
The commentary: Ho-hum. Another destruction, another twenty-two ounces. At least some nice Brian Hoyer and eight-percent-alcohol action kept things interesting.

I don't have much to say this week. It was nice to see Julian Edelman cash in on some of that great punt-return potential. And a new coffee shop/market opened up by the hometown train station. I had the day off yesterday so took a stroll down to check it out. It's true that I practically walk by it every day on the way to and from the train, but it's on the other side of the street and I've almost been run down a few times already just trying to chuck a Netflix into the mailbox. I figured having the day off with nothing planned would mean I could carefully take my time and look both ways and such. The shop is pretty neat but they don't serve anything iced "until Spring… Summer" so I left with a hot Colombian something-or-other, a rarity for me (even iced coffee is only once a week or so, due to a swelling iced chai addiction that has come around to the more genuine-tasting options at the Equal Exchange and Sip cafés in Boston). The owner wasn't particularly friendly—odd way to go about staying in business—but I browsed a minute and was really pleased to discover an excellent, if small, craft beer selection. Plenty of new bombers for me to try, and how about that but it's the playoffs this weekend.

I didn't get up to much else. I watched Cloverfield and yelled at the TV a lot, hoping that if I'm ever in a similar situation a top priority will be to find something for my companion to wear beside a cocktail dress and high heels. I suppose a suspension of disbelief is necessary… even the guys in Predator were slaughtered after remaining calm and relying on their survival and combat training. Except for Billy—challenging the predator with a machete and a Sagat-esque chest gash didn't make a lick of sense during the five or six remaining seconds of his life. (Wikipedia says actor Sonny Landham was "unstable" during filming so maybe it was the character's inevitable direction.) Still, he is the one who sniffed the thing out in the first place. Score one for insanity.

I also watched the ESPN documentary Muhammad and Larry. It's a well done and impossibly sad study of the decline of a champion who might just be our greatest living American. Number two: Richard Kline!

Up next: The Pats get a week off to rest and study film on potential round-two opponents. The Steelers have earned the other AFC bye but their top concern will be to keep Roethlisberger from raping anyone. Cheers!

Q: Are we not degenerates? A: We are RadioShack.

We had a little Yankee swap at work last week. Weren't allowed to drink because we're now part of this uptight group whose idea of casual dress is a mock turtleneck tucked into high-waisted, pleated chinos, but it was still fun and we got to go home early (or go to a bar, as four of us chose instead). There was a $20 limit so I contributed a DVD of the first season of Extras, which is a pretty solid gift if you ask me. So much so that I nearly opened it myself. Most people brought cool stuff like gift cards and alcohol but you know there were some duds, including what I ended up with: the Desk Pets TrekBot Remote Control Robot. It's this tiny Phantom Menace-like two-wheeled dealy controlled—no shit—by "a unique patent pending five-button USB remote controller and charger." Patent pending? Holy living fuck, you'd better hurry with that.

At first I opened a pretty excellent gift consisting of a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and a bomber of Stone Smoked Porter, which I mistakenly thought I had drunk and written about earlier in the NFL season as part of my increasingly non-beer and non-football related "beer and football" series. Nevertheless, I could not have been happier. Until someone took it from me. So I opened a super-light gift bag that I hoped would be a gift card and it was, one of those American Express thingies. I was still annoyed until I reached the Homer Simpson conclusion that money can be exchanged for goods and services, so I could get my own beer and wine. Solid.

But then my boss—bearer of the coveted number one and therefore the last person to pick—didn't take kindly to my mocking the stupid TrekBot she had opened earlier and decided to swap it for the AmEx card. Ride over.

I was New York pissed and I pouted for awhile until noticing the goddamn thing still had a RADIOSHACK $19.99 sticker on it. (Turns out the person who brought it is this weird systems contractor who recently congratulated a coworker on her wedding before adding "Yeah, I was happily married for twenty years before it fell apart." Thanks?) So I figured I'd try to "return" it and get a store credit and pick out the un-shittiest thing they carry—a real challenge, as you know if you've ever stepped inside the store. I am forever covered with every kind of audio/video cable or component imaginable until the next technology wave introduces something new, and even then it will probably be wireless. Then RadioShack will be in some deep shit. This prescient Onion article from 2007 is spot-on from top to bottom—what a ceaselessly baffling operation.

That evening I resigned myself to a quick visit—I figured if I couldn't swing this deal then I'd bring it to my wife's family's Christmas Eve party and maybe toss it into the Yankee swap frenzy there. Luckily it didn't have to come to that: it was a smooth transaction, and the guy didn't even ask for my zip code or try to sell me batteries. (I grew up in a small town in central Massachusetts and it was a big deal when we got a RadioShack. It was the only place closer than Leominster or Nashua where a twelve-year-old boy could buy Bill Cosby cassettes, and even at that young age I thought it was odd of them to require my zip. Did they think shoppers were traveling from Los Angeles or something?) I'm thankful to the guy for making it easy for me but it was clear he and the other (male, of course; has a woman ever worked here?) employee were born to be RadioShack salesmen and/or pedophiles. Such an unpleasant people, with greasy hair and cheap Casio watches. I couldn't be bothered to put my $16 (thing had gone on sale I guess—shocker!) in store credit to immediate use. I had to leave.

Returning the day after Christmas (during the pre-storm errands I wrote about Wednesday) was a terrific move. The same two masochist bastards were working again, too, and when I saw the rack of iTunes gift cards my decision was made. (I'm not the biggest fan of iTunes because it behaves horribly even on Leopard, but $25 in downloads is $25 in downloads.) Add it to the additional $75 in iTunes cards I received from family and I'm a pretty happy guy who looks forward to spending it all next week, avoiding $1.29 songs like the plague. This delayed reward had a hiccup yesterday when I couldn't wait any longer to purchase "The Garden of Earthly Delights" by the United States of America. Would you care to guess what year it came out? You are correct!

So a happy, healthy new year goes out to our sweaty friends at the Shack. We are all better people in comparison, so long as they stick around.

Beer and football — week sixteen

The game: Patriots at Bills
The beer: Shipyard Blue Fin Stout
The result: Win, 34–3
The commentary: Once again I rocked a Starbucks iced chai as a warm-up, obtained during a pre-storm errand scramble. And then the Blue Fin Stout. Mmm… as tasty and comfortable as December football against a Thurman Thomas-less Bills team. This and my homemade Chex Mix (homemade because I add unsalted peanuts to a bag of original-flavor Chex Mix, which for some reason does not already contain peanuts) eventually treated me just fine as it grew more and more beautiful outside. Nothing much stands out from the game except for future All-Pro Tight End/Goofball Rob Gronkowski having his way with all defenders and Ryan Fitzpatrick proving once and for all that he is not the bearded droid Buffalo fans are looking for. And honestly, watching an opposing team march up the field on its opening drive and then be forced to settle for three points is almost reassuring at this point—why teams continue to not go for it on fourth and goal when Brady's about to get the ball is beyond me.

Though the victory (and the earned bye week and home-field advantage) made it pleasant enough to deal with being trapped at home, I was still trapped at home. This was some real snow: between Sunday and Monday I shoveled for about three hours—curse my corner lot!—and that doesn't include the driveway, which we have plowed. But it wasn't so bad because the original Sonik Truth helped me catch up on PFW in Progress podcasts (that's Patriots Football Weekly.) I was a study in primary colors—red hoodie and blue hat with proud yellow stripe—and if the wind- and snow-driven whiteout thought I would surrender like some Bears cornerback then it was mistaken. (Meanwhile, two assholes up the street still haven't cleared their front walks.)

The storm (technically not a blizzard, according to the smug forecasters on the news who couldn't help but celebrate rare accuracy) officially canceled work on Monday, thus saving me a vacation day (A. and I had already taken Monday and Tuesday off). I spent that day alternately shoveling, watching Caddyshack: The Inside Story and stealing my wife's Snuggie. It was as stress-riddled as the AFC East contest the previous afternoon—even having to occasionally clean up after uncooperative drifting snow couldn't get me down.

Earlier in the weekend, Christmas and Christmas Eve were all kittens and pancakes if you ignore the two hundred fifty miles worth of driving, and that wasn't so bad either with Sonik Truth II providing the greatest Christmas playlist of all time. Belatedly, here are a handful of seasonal recommendations for readers (!) to track down in the next eleven months:

1. Nat King Cole – The Christmas Song
The original trio-only 1946 recording with no overdubbed strings. Taken from The Complete Capitol Recordings of the Nat King Cole Trio.

2. The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion – Big Yule Log Boogie
The early part (0:22 to 0:47) served as the outgoing message on my answering machine each December from 1996 to 1999. Twenty-five seconds is a long time. Currently found on the two-disc reissue of Extra Width.

3. Virus – Xmas Submarine (Es Kommt ein Schiff Geladen)
From a wonderful 1971 compilation called Heavy Christmas. I just discovered it this month.

4. Johnny Cash – The Ballad of the Harp Weaver
"Just. My. Size." Deeply, sincerely moving. From The Christmas Spirit.

5. Drifters – The Bells of St. Mary's
My favorite Christmas song. No collection is complete without the Drifters doing this and "White Christmas." Both are available as a "digital 45" on iTunes and Amazon. Hmm, that sounds familiar!

In closing I'd like to pay respects to Captain Beefheart. The man's music isn't everyone's cup of tea but our world is a better place if only for this exchange from Trout Mask Replica: "The name of the composition is 'Neon Meate Dream of an Octafish.' [Chuckles, strikes match.] No, it's 'Hair Pie.'" Once I track down and read the contextual 33⅓ volume I'll be ready to write about an album that once scared the hell out of me.

Up next: Tom Brady plays three quarters of a meaningless football game against the lousy Miami Dolphins because that's what he gets paid to do. Happy new year!

Beer and football — week fifteen

The game: Packers at Patriots
The beer: Shipyard Prelude Special Ale
The result: Win, 31–27; Fabio, 5–4–0
The commentary: I went to bed at 1:30 for the dorkiest reason possible: the Survivor finale. It was sort of a complicated television night, the plan was to watch Survivor live (pretty much) while recording the game. (I couldn't record both because we had free premium channels for three months—synching up nicely with twelve weeks of Dexter, and not by accident—and the DVR was too close to full thanks to a handful of the-blank-blanker movies (The Hurt Locker, The Kite Runner, The Sext Bronzer). So along with the stress that comes with Survivor (surprisingly high) I had to prepare myself for the DVR FULL—PLEASE DELETE PROGRAMS TO CONTINUE RECORDING message. I'm glad it never happened because I still don't know what I would have done.

I ended up drinking the Prelude during the show. I don't know if I've just had too much beer lately (gallons and gallons in the past two weeks) but I didn't think too much of it. I wish I knew more about beer to be able to express certain flavors that don't do it for me, all I know is it was similar to the Thanksgiving beer that was also just alright… maybe it's a wheat thing. I'm excited for next week's stout though, also from Shipyard—I picked it up during our trip north after having dinner at Federal Jack's, a sort of brewpub that serves some delicious haddock tacos but is otherwise exceptionally unromantic. (Later that night, however, we were the only people in the theater to see the 9:30 showing of the new Harry Potter movie. We didn't make out like teenagers learning about their bodies but it was fun to be able to talk out loud to each other as if we were watching at home.) I had a couple of Blue Fin Stouts with dinner and bought one of those and the Prelude to help finish out the regular season. (A stop at the market in Ogunquit center produced last week's Rogue and one more that I'm very excited about saving for the closing Dolphins game.)

So Survivor first: I couldn't be happier with the result. Fabio might be a knucklehead (particularly for letting the "Fabio" nickname stick and not punching whomever gave it to him) but he seems like a good guy and he closed out as well as anyone in the history of the show. I'm also certain he was stoned out of his mind during the reunion special. Chase is a buffoon… how he calls recurring paranoia a "strategy" is beyond me. And I knew Sash wouldn't get a single vote but it was nice of him to dress like an English banker for the night. Watching him overcome the urge to emotionally wound everyone on the jury was almost as fun as Dan's "do I have to wear these cowboy boots now or can I give them to my manservant for Christmas?" expression.

And what a great job by my man Jeff Probst, as always. (Remember when notable fucktard Bryant Gumbel used to host these reunions?) Switching to "On second thought, fuck you and forget I asked" mode after Shannon didn't take him up on his offer to redeem himself for the "Are you gay?" exchange was amazing. Survivor would be a good show without Jeff but I'm not sure it would have the top-priority spot in our series settings the way it does now. I can even overlook his minutiae-driven narration during challenges—he is perfect for this show. (I'm disappointed that "drop your buffs" hasn't entered common lexicon. Same thing with "dance for your life" from So You Think You Can Dance. "The client just called to tell us they're slashing their advertising budget. So drop your buffs, everyone—we have to redo the entire campaign. And you there… Johnson? You'd better dance for your life if you want to keep the account.")

Hey, there was a football game too! Let me tell you about football: the average game lasts one hour on the game clock, airs for three hours when factoring in timeouts and other breaks and contains about twenty minutes of actual football. I know because the skip-ahead on our remote is set to thirty seconds, so I was skipping immediately from play to play (except when the Pats went no-huddle in the fourth). This is no way to watch a game unless you just want to go to bed—before I knew it there were only five minutes left in the game and the Pats were barely hanging onto a four-point lead. Instant quickening of the pulse, to the point where I started taking deep breaths and forcing myself to settle down. If this team loses the Super Bowl because Mike Carey's crew is too chickenshit to call an in-the-grasp sack then I will surely die.

What is it with sparkling-new quarterbacks and massive white running backs against this defense? They turn into Joe Montana and Jim Brown—bring on another shot at Joeflacco and Ray Rice. (I hope I don't regret that come January.) The defense reverted to a week-seven sieve-like state and still won, just like they've been doing all along. The Packers should have been up by so much more at the half but they weren't, just like opposing teams have been doing all along. I'm a little worried but not too much, since you can correct things like foolish penalties and (via benching) Brandon Meriweather's extended exercises in mental retardation. It does help when underrated guard Dan Connolly makes the best special-teams play since week four (thanks Dan, if not for you I might have gotten no sleep at all). At this point it's comforting to know they'll probably be able to tighten things up and rest key players while enjoying an extra week of preparation for their round-two opponent. And also to know that it often snows in January.

Up next: The pesky Buffalo Bills host the Pats in a welcome early-afternoon contest. A win here means the good guys clinch home-field advantage throughout the playoffs. A Jets loss to the lowly Bears means the same thing but I want my boys to earn that fucker. Cheers!