Sunday, September 7, 2014

Quick Hits: Falcons 37, Saints 34

By Andrew Hard

The "other" Matty Ice came through twice from distance to lead the Falcons to a rare win over archrival New Orleans.

Who Dat? We Dat.

The first week of the season might have many national pundits rethinking their New Orleans Saints championship prediction. In a game where both defenses were as listless as Rob Ryan after a 13-hurricane bender on Bourbon Street, Matt Bryant came through with two clutch 50+ yard kicks, one at the gun of regulation and one in overtime, as the Falcons upset their longtime rivals 37-34. Falcons fans are feeling good after watching their offense click on all cylinders, with Matt Ryan throwing for a career-high 448 yards and three touchdowns.

We knew going into this game that the Falcons' defense was going to struggle mightily to contain Drew Brees and the Saints offense, and that Matt Ryan and his offense would need to play a near-perfect game to make up for it. What did we learn from this thrilling win after one week of play?

1. Matt Ryan has enough weapons, even without Tony Gonzalez.

Julio Jones and Roddy White, when healthy, are the second-best wide receiver tandem in football in terms of talent. With Matt Ryan getting enough protection and moving in the pocket like he did today, they are capable of being the best in terms of production, even ahead of Brandon Marshall and Alshon Jeffrey in Chicago. Going into this season, I was afraid that the Falcons would be a three-man team -- Ryan, Julio, and Roddy, with nothing else in terms of offense now that Tony Gonzalez retired.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but -- enter Devin Hester.

Time and time again, Hester proved that his off-season signing wasn't just Thomas Dimitroff thinking that it's still 2009 (see Steven Jackson, Osi Umenyiora, Asante Samuel...). Sure, his value in the return game has been completely diminished since they moved kickoffs up to the 35-yard line, but Hester had his most productive game as a wide receiver in years. Hester outgained Roddy White, hauling in 5 passes for 99 yards, including a crucial 35-yard catch at the sideline on a third-and-8 with the Falcons down 13-0 and looking like they were going to get blown out of their own Dome. Another deep sideline catch near the end of the half set up a much-needed field goal to bring Atlanta within 10.

Levine Toilolo will never have Tony Gonzalez's hands in the middle of the field (hell, no tight end save Jimmy Graham ever will), but he proved useful on the goalline, hauling in a 1-yard touchdown to open the second half. With the Falcons struggling to pound the ball in jumbo packages, Toilolo will have to continue getting open in the end zone if the Falcons are to keep improving on last year's red zone struggles.

2. Steven Jackson's days in Atlanta are numbered.

Jackson finished the day with 52 yards rushing, better than his average from last year but not prolific enough to justify his astronomical price tag. The "other" Steven Jackson in Atlanta has been nothing short of disappointing since he was signed last offseason. In a league where running backs are nothing if not replaceable, I don't care that he's the active leader in career rushing yards. What can you do for me right now?

Luckily, the Falcons have three young running back options that can collectively shoulder the load. Rookie Devonta Freeman earned his reps early in the first half, catching a check-down on the sideline and then barreling for a first down on third-and-long, setting the Falcons up for their first touchdown. Antone Smith and Jacquizz Rodgers each scored on long plays. With Freeman proving to be a decent option in the power run game and the offense already leaning away from the ground-and-pound approach on the goalline, Jackson's skill set is duplicated by younger, cheaper options. If healthy, he will be a nice asset as one of four options in the running back rotation, but to call him the long-term answer as a starter would be misguided.

3. The Falcons won't win this year unless they outscore their opponents.

Thanks, John Madden.

But seriously, if the Falcons have any shot at posting a winning record this year and getting back to the playoffs, they are going to have to win shootouts like this one. To ask this defense to get a crucial stop under any circumstances against an above-average offense right now looks like a long shot. With Sean Weatherspoon out indefinitely, the Falcons have only one player on defense -- Desmond Trufant -- that has any shot of sniffing the Pro Bowl this year.

In a pass-happy league, in a division where you have to play the Saints and Panthers twice a year, the Falcons focused their off-season on improving ... their rush defense. And even that didn't pay off today, as the Saints ran over Tyson Jackson, Paul Soliaiaiaiaiai and company to the tune of 139 yards on the ground. The Falcons had zero pressure on Drew Brees, recording zero sacks and failing to even record a hit on the quarterback.

If there's any sign of life on defense, it's in the secondary. Robert Alford and Desmond Trufant each had crucial deflections on well-placed deep balls, plays that the Falcons have seen Drew Brees beat them on time and again. Robert McClain recorded an interception on a forced throw by Brees that shouldn't have been made. The way the Falcons' offense is playing, the key in the secondary might be just to avoid the long ball and force field goals, something which Atlanta was able to do enough in the first half to prevent the game from getting out of hand.

Next up: Sunday at Cincinnati

A.J. Green could be doing a lot of this next Sunday against Desmond Trufant and the rest of the Falcons' secondary.

The Falcons make their first trip to Paul Brown Stadium in eight years next Sunday to take on the Bengals. The last time Atlanta went to Cincinnati in 2006, Michael Vick threw (!) for three touchdowns in a 29-27 comeback win, which would be promptly followed by a four-game losing streak to put another disappointing Jim Mora-led squad out of contention. This time, Atlanta gets to try its luck against the Junior Ginger Hammer, as Andy Dalton comes off a 301-yard performance in a 23-16 comeback win in Baltimore in Week 1. UGA product A.J. Green had the winning score in that contest, hauling in a 77-yard bomb with just under 5 minutes remaining. It should be fun watching Green and Julio Jones go at it -- perhaps the #2 and #3 receivers in the league in some order.

Falcons' Record: 1-0!

--The Road to 592 is a pipe dream started by a diehard Atlanta fan trying his best to keep up with all the new stadiums (being Atlanta and all). Read up on my unending pursuit here and check out the full list of venues here. For those sick of conference realignment, you can also relish in another pipe dream of mine -- the 28-team SECFollow me on Twitter @andrewhard592.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

Black, Gold and Road Weary: 744 Miles of SEC Basketball

By Andrew Hard

Saturday, January 18: LSU Tigers 81, Vanderbilt Commodores 58
(Pete Maravich Assembly Center, Baton Rouge, LA)



See that small white speck behind Death Valley? That's where LSU plays basketball, a foreign sport unknown to most Tiger faithful.
The 275-mile drive along Interstate 10 from Houston to Baton Rouge could hardly be mistaken for any other part of the country. Massive refineries line the highway from Beaumont to Lake Charles, a constant reminder of south Texas' dominance of the oil and gas industry (or as those who like to be more progressive call it, the "energy" industry; personally, I'm going to hold off on that designation until I can stuff tree branches into my Honda Accord or strap solar panels to the roof). The only "hills" you'll find are courtesy of the road itself sloping upward or downward to make room for other roads to pass above or below it. Because the road is so flat, gas stations just camp out along the side of the highway rather than make you bother using an exit ramp. For miles at a time, you'll find yourself driving sleepily straight, wondering if you're actually making forward progress toward your destination or just stuck in an endless space-time loop masquerading as highway hypnosis.

The last 40 miles of highway before Baton Rouge scream Louisiana, although there's never an indication that you're fast approaching one of the largest and most passionate campuses in the country other than the occasional "BATON ROUGE 28" sign. During one particular 18-mile stretch, there is no land beneath the road -- just swamps. Endless swamps. To the uninformed and possibly paranoid, the idea of being swallowed whole by a 38-foot alligator or grabbed by a gigantic crawdad and dragged into the marshy muck below is a very real possibility. The locals, however, see it as opportunity: these are prime fishing waters! If you didn't know exactly how much further you were going, you would never know how far you had left to go -- until you exit the marshland and approach the bridge, seemingly out of nowhere, that takes you out of Duck Dynasty, across the mighty Mississippi and into Tigerland.

The north, downtown side of Baton Rouge bears little resemblance to the LSU campus that dominates the south end.

On seven or eight Saturday nights every fall, there are few places on Earth that any sports fan would rather be than tailgating around Tiger Stadium, the true Death Valley. On this sleepy Saturday in January, however, the sign on the highway pointing towards New Orleans -- only 80 more miles! -- is sorely tempting for even the most ardent college basketball fan. But today we were on a mission. On a day where the Commodores introduced Derek Mason, it's possible that my wife and I would be the only black-and-gold supporters at the "Deaf Dome" for Vanderbilt's annual good-luck-finding-it-on-your-cable-package tilt with LSU on the hardwood (except for, presumably, the parents of Baton Rouge-bred Commodores Dai-Jon Parker and Damian Jones). And it was entirely likely that said 13,000-seat arena might only be half full, despite LSU's mild success this season, without the legends of Pete Maravich, Shaquille O'Neal, or Big Baby Davis waking the purple-and-gold faithful from their winter football slumber.

Kentucky (and possibly Arkansas) notwithstanding, there is no SEC town in this country that truly comes alive during basketball season. Hell, you'd be hard-pressed to find many in Tuscaloosa, Auburn, Athens, Oxford, and every other town in the conference that could even find the team's arena on a map, much less attend an actual game. Go to North Carolina, Indiana, or Kansas, and the opposite is true. It turns out those three states, despite being located in and around the football-crazy SEC, have such strong ties to James Naismith that basketball is truly in their blood. For the rest of the South, those diamond-in-the-rough seasons bring out the die-hards in full force with a slew of bandwagoners, clinging to school pride and yelling their ass off despite not knowing the difference between a block and a charge (just yell BOOOOO!!!! whenever it goes against your colors). Examples of such excellent crowds include LSU in 2006 (Davis' Final Four team almost sold out its finale against last-place Ole Miss), Tennessee in 2007 (Bruce Pearl's glory year), Vandy in 2008 (the Stallings team that should have gone to the Final Four), and Florida in ... oh wait, Florida fans never know that their basketball team exists.

Every other year, though, you'd be hard-pressed to drive into a place like Baton Rouge on a Saturday in winter and have any idea that a major sporting event is imminent. And frankly, it's hard to blame the average student or victory-lapper for not passing up $3 pints of Abita, $6 dozen oysters, and blackened alligator po-boys (the fare at the famous Chimes restaurant adjacent to the LSU campus) for a relatively meaningless game between two teams that (likely) won't go anywhere come March. And that's exactly what an average Saturday in Baton Rouge turned out to be for the listless Commodores, my wife, and me -- relatively meaningless.

Well, except for that blackened alligator. That was damn good.

Saturday, January 25: Vanderbilt Commodores 66, Texas A&M Aggies 55
(Reed Arena, College Station, TX)



It's hard not to attend any game at Texas A&M (some 97 miles from the west side of Houston) and not notice the Yell Leaders. Somehow, our previous venture into Aggieland passed without a discussion of these male "cheerleaders" that have become as much a part of Aggie football tradition as the team itself (personally, I blame my wife for feeding me too much Lonestar beer and breakfast tacos, which were better than any tacos I've ever had north OR south of the border). As tradition goes, every Friday night before a home game, the entire campus has "Yell Practice," which basically consists of the Yell Leaders teaching the Yellers how to properly Yell during the Yell Match (er, game). Yellers would yell between downs when the other team had the ball, between downs when the Aggies had the ball, when the Aggies scored, whenever Johnny Manziel ripped into his teammates, or whenever anyone in the crowd took a swig of Garrison Brothers.

Yelling takes place at Aggie basketball games, too, but with far different effect. Yelling takes place so infrequently, and with far fewer people, that it can be downright eerie. A deafeningly silent Reed Arena during an opponent's free throw (in this case, Vanderbilt) jerks out of its shoes, with the student Yellers causing the shooter (in this case, James Siakam) to have a "Fucking Shit!!!" moment and heave the ball sideways into the tuba. I'm not sure what they said exactly, but it sounded like it was straight of the Exorcism of Emily Rose. Not to be outdone, the other side of the arena featured a band member who would hit her throat while screaming, sounding like a freaking cuckoo bird during free throws. So yeah, the Yellers at basketball games were a little weird.

None of it helped the hapless Aggies on this doubly sleepy Saturday (the announced crowd of 6,520 must have included a few thousand kernels of popcorn), as Vandy avenged its two straight losses with a rousing victory in front of, well, at least four Commodore faithful. It's been a long year for the 'Dores on the hardwood, but the Road to 592 will never pass up the opportunity to Anchor Down within driving distance of home.

All told, that's 744 miles in two roundtrips. These Road 'Dores are road weary.

College basketball count: 23/347; Total count: 61/592.

Next One Up: The Road to 592 is headed to the magical city of Austin, Texas to catch Saturday's top-25 matchup between the Longhorns and the Kansas Jayhawks. It's possible we'll take in a bit of barbecue and live music while we're there... Follow along with the Twitter hashtag #ATX592.

--The Road to 592 is a pipe dream started by a diehard Atlanta fan trying his best to keep up with all the new stadiums (being Atlanta and all). Read up on my unending pursuit here and check out the full list of venues here. For those sick of conference realignment, you can also relish in another pipe dream of mine -- the 28-team SECFollow me on Twitter @andrewhard592.