This is the fourth of an eight-part series analyzing each Giants draft choice.

Zak DeOssie, Round 4 (116):

Of the two Giants Super Bowl winning teams, history gives a lot more respect to the ’86 version. On ESPN’s list of the all-time greatest Super Bowl teams, the ’86 team pulls in at 8th, while the ’90 team pulls in at 33rd (and the 2000 team, which they refer to as “a completely uninspiring and forgettable team” [ouch] pulls in at 78th, third to last on a list that was compiled before last year’s Super Bowl.)

I’m not disputing that the ’86 team was better, but not by nearly so much as people claim. Why no respect for the ’90 Giants? Maybe it all comes from the misconception that the Giants were lucky that Scott Norwood missed that field goal, that they benefited from another team’s fuck-up, that the wrong team won the Super Bowl because some piss-ant kicker choked the game away.

This is bullshit, and here’s why: During the 1990 season, Norwood had gone just 1-for-5 on field goals over 40 yards on grass. As of the :08 mark of Super Bowl XXV, he had never hit a field goal as long as 47 yards on grass.

Given this, it was incumbent on the Bills offense to move the ball into reasonable field goal range, while it was incumbent on the Giants defense to keep the Bills out. This was the real battle, and the Giants won it. By the time Norwood got on the field, the battle had already been lost by his offense.

Norwood could have made up for the failure of the Bills offense by coming through with an extraordinary effort on that field goal, one that, given his abilities, would have been completely out of line with his prior track record. But he didn’t come through with this extraordinary effort, but rather a normal effort, which, for him, from 47-yards on grass, amounted to a missed field goal.

To the casual, non-Giant fan, the letdown quality of the missed field goal – that dramatic moment when it’s up… it’s got the distance… and it’s… noooooo good – obscures the fact that nobody had any reason to expect Norwood to make the kick in the first place.

So did this missed field goal represent a failure for Norwood? No, because he just performed the way he should have been expected to. To say that Norwood choked is like saying that Rey Ordonez choked because he didn’t get a hit with the bases loaded and two outs: the odds simply weren’t with him. Was it a failure for the Bills offense? Yes, that it was.

But most importantly, it was a triumph for the Giants defense, which, masterminded by a mad little genius named Bill Belichick, came through in the clutch and did what they had to do.

**

Anyway, let’s keep talking about the under-appreciated 1990 New York Football Giants, who, to remind you, ranked 33rd on ESPN’s list of the top teams ever to appear in a Super Bowl and generally garner no respect.

But look, our 13-3 record that year is certainly nothing to sneeze at, nor was our +124 point differential, which was only 11 points worse than the +135 differential of the ’86 team.

And while the ’86 team steamrolled through the playoffs, outscoring their opponents by a combined 105-23, the ’90 version blew out the Bears in the first round before beating, albeit by a combined three points, two of the strongest teams of the era in the Niners and the Bills, both of whom easily would have ranked in the top 15 on ESPN’s list had they won that Super Bowl.

Quick: which of the Giants Super Bowl teams had the better defense? Was it the ’86 version that featured LT in his MVP year, Hall of Famer Harry Carson, and Carl Banks in his prime? Or was it the ’90 defense, which featured a similar cast of characters, but is often thought of as the last gasp of a once great unit that precipitously declined shortly thereafter?

Well, if you anticipated the obvious unexpected answer here, you were right. Yes, it was the ’90 Giants defense, who ranked first in fewest points allowed in giving up 13.2 points per game, slightly better than the ’86 team, which ranked second in the league in allowing 14.8 points per game.

**

All of which is a roundabout way of saying that I’m excited about Zak DeOssie, whose father Steve DeOssie (who, in my fourth grade class, was often confused with WWF’s Ted “The Million Dollar Man” DiBiase), played inside linebacker on that superior 1990 Giants defense that brought us that sweet, unexpected championship.

The strange thing about DeOssie the Younger is that despite his NFL pedigree and Brown education (how did Steve DeOssie’s son get into Brown, by the way?) he enters the league as an athletic, but raw product. The fact that he is right now more athlete than football player belies the common conception about sons of pros: usually these guys have the instincts and smarts; if they’re held back by anything, it’s that despite their parents, they didn’t hit the jackpot in the genetic lottery.

Basically what we have in DeOssie is a hard-ass, hustling athlete who currently lacks instinct and technique. His speed, rangy frame, and aggressiveness will help us immediately on special teams – the NFL.com scouting report describes him as “a capable wedge-buster,” which gives an indication of his balls-to-the-wall style. He is also a long-snapper (like his pops), and if he proves up to the task, he could allow us to get rid of one-dimensional long-snapper Ryan Kuehl and perhaps employ a kickoff specialist.

But it’s an open question whether he’s ever gonna become skilled enough to be a good outside linebacker. The NFL.com scouting report says that he “lacks a good feel for reading keys and will take false steps,” that he “needs to diagnose the in-line blocking schemes better as he can be caught up in traffic,” that he “has a tough time diagnosing the inside rush lanes,” and that he “is slow to react to the pass.”

(The same scouting report said that DeOssie’s frame – which has the potential to fill out an additional 20 pounds – may be conducive to a move down to defensive end, so we’ll see if linebacker will be his permanent home.)

Who knows what type of player DeOssie will turn into, but having athletic, kamikaze guys on the roster who can make sticks on special teams never hurts, nor does it ever hurt the Giants to have able-bodied linebackers – DeOssie will join Chase Blackburn in pushing our two projected starters at OLB, Kawika Mitchell and Gerris Wilkinson.

The thinking behind this pick was also interesting, given that we had just drafted the undersized but instinctive and productive Alford a round earlier. If drafting Alford in the third round was a vote for instincts over physique, than drafting DeOssie in the fourth round is the opposite. And I have no problem with combining the two approaches.

This is the third of an eight-part series analyzing each Giants draft choice.

Jay Alford, Round 3 (81):

Like the Smith selection, this pick represents a refreshing departure in the Giants’ player evaluation philosophy, which seem to be giving a little more weight to performance over tools.

(Before we overemphasize this point, though, let’s remember that Osi Umenyiora was a raw, toolsy project when we drafted him in the second round; so was Brandon Jacobs, and so, to a certain extent, was Matthias Kiwanuka. This point – the “We’re looking for football players, not sprinters or bodybuilders” point – has become extremely fashionable among casual fans who like to rattle off the Zach Thomases of the world, but let’s remember that player evaluation is a balance of the two approaches. Yes, Zach Thomas slipped down to the fourth round because he was short and small, and that was stupid. But Osi Umenyiora vaulted himself from complete obscurity to the second round because he was freakishly athletic, and that was smart.)

Anyway, back to Alford, who isn’t physically imposing by DT standards, but is a quick, playmaking overachiever who hustles his way into the backfield to make plays.

In scoutspeak, he gets by on his outstanding first-step quickness, “suddenness” off the ball, lateral movement, excellent football instincts and general “coachability.” He is small, perhaps too small, but he is somewhat able to make up for his lack of bulk with his quickness – he beats the other man to the punch – as well as his strong hands (an extremely underrated asset in athletes, especially football players)

He also plays a position of need – getting another D-Tackle up in this piece allows us to put a merciful end to the William Joseph experiment. Alford will join a four-man tackle rotation comprised of the promising Barry Cofield, the resurgent Fred Robbins, and the under-the-radar free agent acquisition Marcus Bell, who was productive in Detroit last year filling in for an injured Shaun Rogers.

The concern here is that the Giants may have reached for the undersized Alford with the 81st pick. Alford played at well under 300 pounds during his college career – while he weighed in at 302 at the combine, it remains to be seen whether he can keep this newfound bulk without sacrificing his quickness. Even at 302, he may not have the “sand in his pants” necessary to hold it down against the run. And a D-Tackle who can’t anchor his position against the run, however quick he may be, is a pretty useless NFL player.

But the fact that the Giants reached for him – that they singled him out as a guy they liked in spite of the conventional projections – shows that maybe they saw something in this guy that others didn’t. Considering Alford’s productive track record at Penn State, I’m willing to give the G-Men the benefit of the doubt here.

This is the second of an eight-part series analyzing each Giants draft choice.

Steve Smith, Round 2 (51):

I have similar objections to the Smith pick as the Ross pick:

1) Picking a receiver in the second-round a) just a year after we traded up to pick Sinorice Moss, and b) during the offseason when we finally admitted that the Tim Carter experiment didn’t work out (great trade, by the way – Droughns is solid), is tantamount to admitting that we’ve made mistakes. Cutting bait is smart, but painful just the same.

In this regard, drafting Smith a year after we drafted Moss is similar to drafting Ross two years after drafting Webster. The Ross and Smith picks are not mistakes in themselves, but they represent an admission that the Moss and Webster picks very well may have been.

[Speaking of admitting mistakes, I think it’s time to admit that this organization does a bad job of developing receivers. Amani Toomer, drafted in ’96 and hands-down the best receiver in Giants history, is the last guy that we drafted, developed, and watched turn into a better player than we originally anticipated.

But since Amani our track record has been pretty bad. Ike Hilliard, whom we drafted 7th overall in the 1997 draft, was a serviceable receiver, but certainly not worthy of his high draft status.

Shockey is a very good receiver, but he pretty much came into the league as one: credit the Giants for trading up and getting him, but not for making him the very good, yet not utterly dominant receiver he’s become. (To his credit, though, Mike Pope has turned Shockey into an above average blocker.)]

2) Smith is nice, but we were Oh So Close to getting Dwayne Jarrett, the man who forced Keyshawn to the ESPN studio (where he will seamlessly take over for Michael Irvin, minus the drugs and prostitutes), and will probably turn into a player along the lines of Anquan Bolden. That’s pretty good.

So on draft day, we were this close to getting Leon Hall, and then we were this close to getting Dwayne Jarrett (who went six picks before we picked Smith). Ross and Smith are no slouches, and there’s certainly no guarantee that Hall and Jarrett will be better than them, but coming up empty on both of these guys made for a frustrating first two rounds.

**

But ok, let’s talk about Smith on his own merits – there’s a lot to like here. First of all, because he does not wow you with his physique or speed, he represents a departure from the Tim Carter school of drafting, which prizes physique and potential over actual performance.

No, Smith isn’t 6’3, 220, and he doesn’t run a 4.4 40 – the two most overrated qualities for a receiver – but he’s quick off the ball, hits top speed quickly, bursts out of his breaks, runs crisp, precise routes, finds soft spots in the zone, and has good hands. If you put this guy’s skills and savvy with Tim Carter’s body, you’d have a top 10 pick.

At USC, the overshadowed Smith was just a ballplayer who knew how to get open, which is exactly what our stilted offense (especially in the red zone) and mentally fragile young quarterback need. He will enter the league as a near-finished product who is ready to contribute now.

All things considered, it’s hard to be disappointed with getting Steve Smith with the 51st pick in the draft.

This is the first of an eight-part series analyzing each Giants draft choice. Without further ado…

CB Aaron Ross, Round 1 (20):

The Giants had a lot of holes going into the draft – most notably on the O-Line, at linebacker, and at the corners – and between these positions, it was hard to determine which we needed most. So to a degree, we were in a position to take the best player available at any of them. If a stud corner fell to us at 20 (which Leon Hall almost did), we could and should have snatched him up. If an ill linebacker fell to us there (Lawrence Timmons, perhaps), maybe we would have taken him.

As it turned out, the stud guy at a need position that fell to us was Joe Staley, the athletic left tackle from central Michigan who projects as a potentially great pass blocker to replace Luke Petitgout (who, as Cody astutely points out, Jerry Reese may have had designs on re-signing at a bargain price, only to see it backfire when the market for offensive linemen went through the roof [see Davis, Leonard] and the Bucs snatched him up).

All of us who watched the ESPN draft knew that Kiper thought we should have taken Staley, and so did I. Having a good corner or outside linebacker is great, but with the exception of quarterback, there is no position on the field more important than left tackle. Considering that the consensus best player available was a left tackle, we really should have pounced.

On the other hand, Staley is considered by some to be more of a project than an NFL-ready left tackle at this point, which is certainly a mitigating factor. Also, the apparently open competition between Dave Diehl and Guy Whimper at that spot hopefully means that we’re high on Whimper as a tackle-of-the-future, though it could of course mean that we’re not so high on Diehl as a tackle-of-the-present.

But anyway, we passed on Staley to take Aaron Ross. No disrespect to Ross – we’ll talk about him on his own merits later – but there are two troubling things about this pick, especially when taken in conjunction with our second-round pick, Steve Smith (we’ll get to him again later too).

1) Redundancy:

In ’05, we tried to address the corner by taking Corey Webster, and in ’06, we tried to address wide receiver by taking Sinorice Moss. Given this, our first two picks this year have to be seen as an admission that those two picks haven’t worked out as well as we would have wanted.

Both Webster and Moss were about as disappointing as possible last year. In Moss’s case, a mulligan is in order – a terrible, injury marred rookie year, while certainly not a good sign, isn’t an automatic disqualification for a successful career. Webster’s second year performance, on the other hand, has us all seriously wondering whether this guy will ever even be a competent NFL cornerback, let alone the asset that his high draft status would have us want him to be.

So by taking Ross and Smith, management has essentially told us that there’s a real chance that both Webster and Moss are perilously close to becoming busts.

There’s also the related fact that over the past three drafts, we’ve devoted four of our five early-round (first or second) round picks to these two positions. That’s a steep opportunity cost, and it will be tough for this group – whoever of the four emerges as a productive player for us – to justify it.

2) Leon Hall:

Of the top three corners, it was Leon Hall and Darelle Revis running a close one-two on most boards, with Ross a distant third. Most people had Hall as the best guy, but the Jets traded up to 16 and took Revis. Fair enough, he was their guy.

If Ross were Our Guy - like, if we thought that he was on the same level as Hall and Revis – I would have had no problem with our taking him instead of Staley. But he wasn’t, because as Mike Garafalo reported, Jerry Reese tried to trade up to take Hall, only to decide that the price was too steep.

So this raises the following questions: 1) If we needed a corner so much, why didn’t we try to trade up two picks (!) to take the superior Hall?; and 2) If we didn’t think he was on Hall’s level, why didn’t we draft Staley, who was considered a better player at a more important position of which we were in equally urgent need. (And if you think we’re comfortable having Dave Diehl at left tackle, then why did we try so hard to sign the mediocre, perpetually underachieving Leonard Davis?)

**

Despite the Giants approach, though, it’s hard for me not to get excited about this Ross guy. He’s an athlete, he’s a legit ballhawk (6 picks last year!), and he could be a huge asset as a kick returner. And that, among other things, is what this team needs: athletic ballers.

Beyond that, it was tough for me to get a sense of exactly what this guy’s strengths and weaknesses were from the scouting reports I read. I’m a huge fan of scouting reports, but very often they turn out to be contradictory bullshit. Check out these reports from NFL.com and ESPN.com, which contradict each other on just about every topic:

Re: Speed/Hip-fluidity

From NFL.com:

Uses his speed well to mirror receivers throughout the route… Is better in trail technique than in press, as he has the valid feet and loose hips to turn and run without breaking stride.

From ESPN.com:

Lacks ideal hip-fluidity and has problems in man-to-man coverage as a result. Footwork is inconsistent…Ross lacks ideal hip-fluidity and recovery speed in man-to-man coverage. He also has room to improve his footwork.

Re:Strength/Press Coverage Technique

From NFL.com:

Has a lean frame with marginal playing strength…Lacks good press coverage technique… fails to generate the punch to press or the placement to reroute.

From ESPN.com:

Has a strong upper body and does a good job redirecting receivers in press coverage.

Re: Instincts

From NFL.com:

Not the most instinctive player on the field and is slow to diagnose plays…Lacks field intelligence and will bite on pump fakes and misdirection… Lacks an ideal feel for seeing plays develop and will need time to learn the proper techniques of diagnosing and reading keys… Liability in zone coverage, as he is late to locate the ball and lacks a good feel for handling the switch-off.

From ESPN.com

Shows good instincts and rarely gets caught out of position…He possesses a very good blend of size, speed, instincts, and ball-skills.

Contradictory reports notwithstanding, three qualities emerge from both:

Whether it’s because of his technique or his speed, the guy has a way to go as far as being a shut-down corner (see above).

The guy’s ball-skills are as good as Will Allen’s were bad:

From NFL.com:

Has the leaping ability and timing to get the ball at its highpoint…. Does a good job tracking the ball in flight, demonstrating an explosive vertical leap to win most jump-ball battles… Has the natural hands to extend for the ball outside the frame…

From ESPN.com:

Is tall and can compete for jump balls…Possesses very good ball skills, flashes the ability to make the big play in coverage…

The guy’s ability to return punts and kicks might make up for whatever deficiencies he has in pass coverage — optimistically, he may do a fair impression of Devin Hester for us.

From NFL.com:

Has the second gear to elude in the open field on returns, reminding some of Chicago’s Devin Hester for his ability to put on the afterburners and simply explode with the ball in his hands…. Shows very good judgement picking a seam to gain big yardage on his runbacks. [Contrast Ross, because of this quality, to Sinorice Moss, who seemingly always picked the wrong hole]

ESPN.com:

…is a dangerous open field runner…. Has experience returning punts, has shown big-play ability in this role and should contribute on special teams in the NFL.

**

So there you have it, folks. Aaron Ross is a tantalizing talent who will make some picks (thank God), make an impact on special teams, but might not ever develop into a cover-corner in the Leon Hall/Darelle Revis mold. He’ll push Webster, Madison, and R.W. for snaps this year – hopefully, out of those four, at least two will emerge and give us more production than we got at corner last year. As for his other qualities… well, since the scouting reports aren’t gonna be of much help, we’ll just have to figure that out for ourselves.

Can we use this type of player, and should we get excited about this type of player? Most definitely. But should we have passed up a potential pass-blocking ace for him….? I don’t think so.

(Apparently, Ross had a bad minicamp, which was the subject of a day’s worth of Giants articles. Ross attributed his struggles to his problems memorizing the defensive sets, saying that he was a step or two behind mentally. I’m willing to believe him – it’s way too early, and way too small a sample, to get worried about.)

We Giants fans have absorbed more than our fair share of punishment over the past couple of months, but yesterday’s decision to retain Tom Coughlin ensures that our pain will not end with the end of this season.

Make no mistake about it: the Giants organization is lost. Let’s examine, point by point, the rationale offered by team President John Mara and Treasurer Jonathan Tisch for keeping Colonel Tom around:

1) “What we wanted to hear from him is what is his plan going forward,” said John Mara, in both a logically and grammatically questionable statement. “We wanted to hear those answers and we heard them.”

This was probably the most prominent quote in the papers, but it shows nothing other than that Coughlin told Mara and Tisch Jrs. what they wanted to hear. I could just as easily go into a job interview with a Wall Street company and say that I want to increase my department’s profits by 700%. That would seem like a good “plan going forward,” but there is nothing in my track record that would indicate that I would be capable of producing such a result. Similarly, Tom’s grand plan must be weighed against the evidence of the past three seasons accumulated against him.

One would expect Coughlin apologists would cherry-pick and manipulate the evidence to support their claims. To wit: Strahan’s claim in his statement that “He has led us to back to back playoff appearances for the first time in my 14-year career.”

Back to back playoff appearances, huh? Well, I suppose that’s one way to look at it. But how about looking at it this way:

–In the Colonel’s three years, we’ve been over 500 only once.

–In the second half of his three seasons, the Giants have gone 8-16. If you count the playoffs, we’ve been 8-18. Such a poor showing in the second halves of seasons is evidence that the rest of the league has caught up with us while we have failed to make the necessary adjustments. Rigidity and the inability to make adjustments: frequent and evidently valid criticisms of Coughlin throughout the years.

–The penalties. Ah, the fucking penalties! I don’t have stats on this one, but do I need them for this argument? Those fucking penalties, man. Is there any reason to think that we’ll curtail those next year?

–When both Coughlin and Eli came to the Meadowlands in 2004, we knew that, good or bad, Coughlin would largely be responsible for the stewardship of Eli’s young career. Well, we’re three years into the Eli experiment, and at this point, you have to say that it’s been a severe disappointment. Yes, Coughlin has “led” us to consecutive playoff appearances, but he also has presided over a severely disappointing first few years of the single player whose progress is by far the most important to the franchise’s long-term future.

2) “We have not named a new general manager. That really didn’t have any affect on this decision,” said Mara, who then said, “We felt like we needed to make a decision on the head coach really quickly.”

“Ideally,” Mara continued. “You’d like to have the general manager issue settled first, but those circumstances were not in line for us, so we had to take care of this issue and that’s what we did.”

I get the sense from this that the Giants decision to re-hire Coughlin was brought about by their feeling rushed and overwhelmed by the idea of hiring an entire brain-trust in the span of a few short weeks. They wanted to settle the coach issue first, because only then could they pursue a general manager with the diligence required for such an important decision. The question of who coaches the team must be settled first, because by the time they conduct a thorough GM search ‘n’ hire, the ranks of available coaching candidates will be completely depleted.

Look at it this way: If they had fired Coughlin now, they would have been under a lot of pressure to quickly hire a GM so that that GM could then quickly hire a coach before the ranks of available candidates became depleted. But because they didn’t want to be in the position of hastily making a decision on the GM, they figured the safe move was just to settle the coaching issue quickly.

And that’s all that this move was: the safest move possible for two overwhelmed rookie owners faced with their first watershed couple of decisions. If Coughlin has another shitty year and proves to be the wrong decision, they get rid of him and that’s it – it only hurts us for one year. But if the new GM turns out to be a dud… then we’re fucked.

In a sense, Mara and Tisch were victims of bad timing. It was really too bad for them that the GM was leaving at the same time that the fans were calling for the coach’s head.

But didn’t they bring this bad timing on themselves? Check it out: Judging by the recent news reports of Scott Pioli’s alleged rejection of us, our alleged rejection of Parcells, as well as the Giants tradition of loyalty to in-house guys, I have a feeling that Jerry Reese will be our next GM. If we do in fact go ahead and hire Reese, you have to ask yourself: Why the fuck didn’t we do this before, so that we could have avoided this awkward predicament of having to make such a hasty decision on the coach?

Remember what John Mara said: “Ideally, you’d like to have the general manager issue settled first, but those circumstances were not in line for us, so we had to take care of this issue and that’s what we did.”

Those circumstances were not in line, John, but that’s partially you’re fault. Yes, it’s an unlucky predicament, but in the words of Branch Rickey, “Luck is the residue of design.”

3) “It is our strong belief that consistency, stability, loyalty, and sticking by your people are extremely important.”

–Jonathan Tisch

Hey, I’m all for consistency and stability, but those two words cannot possibly be used to describe the Giants under Tom Coughlin: There’s nothing consistent or stable about this team whatsoever.

Considering the circumstances, Tisch’s argument here is profoundly ridiculous. Imagine seeking the guidance of a psychologist because you’re in a nasty, destructive relationship, and then having your shrink tell you, “I think you should stay in this relationship. Considering how shaken up you are, what you really need is stability.” I mean, really. What the fuck kind of logic is that?

4) “In all of my discussions, and our discussions with the players, it’s my sense that they are craving the stability that is now afforded by the coach’s remaining.”

–Tisch again

Ah, yes, these statements from the players. Strahan, Shockey, and Pierce (there are the links their respective statements [except for Pierce -- trust me on that one], basically sounding the same “Yay, Tom! note). The old superstar, the hothead, and the respected heart and soul. They’re really touching all the demographics here. I’m impressed.

But I’m also skeptical. I’m not gonna say that these guys were forced to say anything, but isn’t it possible that they were asked to say something? And what if they had refused to publicly stick up for Coughlin? This is the NFL, not the NBA, and these guys aren’t guaranteed their contracts. As good as these guys are, it’s still in their best interest not to bite the hands that feed them.

That said, I will concede that the rift between the players and Coughlin is a bit overstated. Even as the season was going completely down the shitter, these guys showed up every Sunday and played hard (with the exception of the Saints game). It’s not as if these guys gave up on the coach.

5) There was a thread in the comments from yesterday’s entry that introduced the theory that the Giants rationale for retaining Coughlin was, in NYGMen commentator Junior’s words, “the perceived dearth of coaching talent out there.”

If that were the case, if the Giants were really holding out another year to get their dream, big-name coach… well, that would be quite infuriating.

I don’t know about you, but I have no desire for a big name coach. Hiring Bill Cowher to coach this team appeals to me only slightly less than hiring Larry Brown to coach the Knicks did.

I mean, fuck, let’s get a new guy! Think of it this way: Our two best coaches since Kennedy was president were Bill Parcells and Jim Fassel, who were complete no-names when they were hired. Do you really want the Steelers’ sloppy seconds? Do you really want us to become one of those New York franchises obsessed with accumulating big names? Please. I’m sure there are plenty of excellent candidates out there. Norm Chow comes to mind. How about Ron Rivera, the Bears defensive coordinator, or Cam Cameron, the Chargers offensive coordinator? What about Karl Dorrell, the UCLA coach?

I mean, it’s not like hiring coaches in the NFL is like drafting players in the NBA. It’s not like Norm Chow is an Andrew Bogut, but if we wait a year, Bill Cowher will be a guaranteed LeBron James. It’s such an inexact science that to base your decision about whether or not to fire a coach based on the available coaching talent pool out there is preposterous.

**

So like it or not, we’re stuck with this guy for another year. Another year of stilted, underachieving football. Another year of the maddening propensity to make mistakes at the worst possible times. Another year of both the players and the media questioning the coach. How, how, oh how did we willingly sign on to another year of this shit?

“Each weekend I traveled the fifty-odd miles from Glacial Falls to Watertown, where I spent Friday night and all day Saturday in some sustained whisky drinking, tapering off Sunday with a few bottles of beer at The Parrot, eyes fixed on the television screen, cheering for my team. Cheering is a paltry description. The Giants were my delight, my folly, my anodyne, my intellectual stimulation.”

–Frederick Exley, A Fan’s Notes

 

I.

Ok, so the Tiki orgy is over and, however difficult it may seem, it’s time to shed the accumulation of bad vibes from the past couple of months and devote ourselves wholeheartedly to the task at hand. Yes, it’s been a shitty season: Each loss these past eight weeks has felt like its own death, except that in a cruel twist of fate attributable to the astonishing shittiness of the NFC and the complexity of the tie-breaker system, we’ve been constantly revived, week after to week, only to die painful death after painful death.

But all that is a discussion for another day, because we are in the playoffs, four wins away from being Super Bowl champions. No, this doesn’t excuse or mitigate what has happened these past eight weeks, but it presents G-Men nation with an urgent obligation: As Jim Fassel once said, “Whoever wants in can get in. Whoever doesn’t can get out.” I’m in. From this point on, until we lose, it’s all business – we will not divert our attention from the task at hand. Four games. One mission. As another great leader of men, John Bluto Blutarsky, so famously and eloquently said, “Come on, who’s with me?”

II.

Ok, the game itself. As usual, the most comprehensive, analytical, and intelligent preview comes from the smart fellas at Footballoutsiders.com. Check it out, and remember this point by the inestimable Aaron Schatz: “Anyway, as much as people want to just hand this game to the Eagles, do remember that when these two teams just played a couple of weeks ago and the Giants were winning 22-21 with seven minutes left.”

A summary of Shatz’ numerous on-point points in the article:

–It’s not as if you needed the FootballOutsiders’ advanced statistics to tell you this, but Eli has been truly awful over the second half of the season. In the first eight games, Eli averaged 6.2 yards per pass and posted a DVOA of 12.0%.

(Quick tutorial on DVOA – if you want to read more, read my layman’s explanation here [third paragraph], or if you really want to read more, here’s FootballOutsiders’ fleshed-out explanation. But think of it this way: 30% is MVP caliber, 15% is pretty damn good player caliber, 0% is average, -15% is pretty damn bad player caliber, and -30% is bouncer/gas pumper caliber. On defense, the + and – are reversed, which is logical enough, so that a defense with a DVOA of -30% is historically awesome, while one of 30% is the Giants in the past two weeks.)

But over the past eight games, Eli has gained 5.0 yards per pass and posted a DVOA of -14.9%. So basically, your eyes didn’t lie. By any measure, Eli’s gone from pretty good to one of the worst quarterbacks in the league. Eli’s overall DVOA is -1.1%, but if you look at his second half DVOA of -14.9, he’s worse that the yearly DVOAs of such scrubs as Joey Harrington, Jake Plummer, Rex Grossman, and Alex Smith, none of whom have anywhere near the caliber of supporting cast that Eli does.

So what accounts for Eli’s precipitous drop-off? Well, a lot of things, of course, but the loss of Amani Toomer cannot be overlooked. Toomer was lost for the season after our Week 8 win against the Texans, which coincides with Eli’s – and the Giants’ – horrendousness from that point on.

But check this out: As Schatz points out, “Manning’s worst habit is depending on the same receivers over and over.” When Toomer was healthy, Eli threw 12 passes per game to wide receivers not named Plaxico Burress. Since he’s been hurt, Eli has thrown 5 passes per game to non-Plaxican receivers.

This is obviously a considerable indictment on Eli, but it also does not speak so well of the guys that were supposed to fill Amani’s shoes: Tim Carter, David Tyree, and to a lesser extent, Sinorice Moss. After Amani got hurt, I declared it something of a blessing in disguise because it potentially gave us the opportunity to incorporate some speedy playmakers into our offense. How wrong I was. Like Ernie Accorsi, I was seduced by Tim Carter’s speed and I was unreasonably optimistic about this coaching staff’s resourcefulness to incorporate Sinorice Moss’ into the offense.

–It’s been written about ad nauseum, but our best chance of winning the game is to rely on a steady dose of Tiki. The thing we do best on offense is run; the thing the Eagles do worst on defense is stop the run (Though their run defense isn’t bad – their -4.2% DVOA actually means that they’re above average). A reason for optimism is the difficulty the Eagles had in the mid-to-late season at in stopping the run: In three out of six games spanning Week 8 and Week 14, they allowed over 200 yards three times and 183 yards another time.

–Contrary to the popular belief that the Eagles stumbled throughout the season and came alive during the last few weeks, they’ve actually been one of the most consistent teams in the NFL. In the beginning of the season, they were playing some of the best football in the league, but because of freakish losses to Tampa Bay and yes, the G-Men, their record didn’t reflect how good they actually were.

And after a two-game hiccup in the immediate aftermath of the McNabb injury – the ass-whoopings at the hands of the Titans and Colts – Philly has pretty much been playing the same quality ball as they were at the beginning of the year, albeit with different results. Think on this: Philly has posted a positive DVOA in fourteen out of their sixteen games this year.

–Throughout the Andy Reid era, Philly’s offense has been famously predicated on the short pass. But this year, according to Michael David Smith, Reid has adjusted to his personnel at wide receiver – the speedy trio of Reggie Brown, Donte’ Stallworth, and Hank Baskett – and stretched the field more than he ever.

Smith gives him a lot of props on his flexibility, and contrasts this improvisational ability to Colonel Tom’s rigidity:

“If a willingness to change defines the way Reid ran the Eagles this season, his counterpart in Sunday’s game, New York Giants coach Tom Coughlin, couldn’t be more different. Coughlin is infamously set in his ways, and his Giants looked paralyzed by an inability to cope with adversity down the stretch this season.”

–Either way, the Eagles new-found affinity for the deep ball spells trouble for the G-Men, who have been getting killed on deep balls all year. According to FootballOutsiders’ game charting project, Kevin Dockery and Will Demps are both among the top (or bottom — like, the point is they’re bad) ten in the NFL in allowing yards on plays on which the man in coverage. I’m skeptical of this charting project because I don’t know how it accounts for defensive schemes, but this stat is certainly something to think about.

We can all agree that the Giants safeties are bad in pass coverage (although, in Will Demps’ defense, he has looked much, much better in recent weeks), and this is reflected in the fact that we rank 31st in the league on passes intended for tight ends. LJ Smith put up a huge game the first time we saw the Eagles and burnt us on a key play the last time we saw the Eagles, so we gotta be watching out for him.

III.

Just some notes on injuries/personnel:

–Shockey practiced fully yesterday, and will almost definitely play. It’s anybody’s guess, however, how many plays he gets or how effective he will be.

–Rich Seubert is back practicing and will start at left guard, where Grey Ruegamer played last week. Dave Diehl will slide over to left tackle to replace the doghoused Bob Whitfield. Whitfield got some burn at left tackle last week – I can’t find it right now, but I remember reading that it was because someone (either Ruegamer or Diehl) sustained a minor injury. So Whitfield’s still banished, in case you were wondering.

–Corey Webster was placed on injured reserve. What a disappointing year for Webster. We needed him to step up this year, and he didn’t. Now we’re still gonna be counting on him to step up next year.

“I love winning! It’s, like, better than losing.”

-Ebbie Calvin “Nuke” LaLoosh

I.

Wow, this feels good. Finally, we played a team in a bigger state of disarray than we were, played well enough, caught some breaks, and came away with a comfortable win. I hope I’m not premature in declaring this, but I sincerely believe that after a horrific third quarter of the season, the long nightmare in G-Men nation is over. It’s morning again in East Rutherford.

Am I getting too excited about one win? Perhaps. But you know what? Fuck it. I, along with everyone else who didn’t write the Giants off this year, have earned it as a fan. If I was saying the season was salvageable after the Tennessee game, I have the right to say that we might have just turned the corner after this one.

Think of it this way: After bottoming out against Jacksonville (who, we all know after today, is a pretty damn good team) we came back strong against a not-bad Tennessee team and thoroughly outplayed them for three quarters. Then, in one quarter, we collapsed. It was a historically horrible choke, and compounded by all the shit the following week, it threatened to destroy our season.

If we had came out flat and gotten our asses whooped by a steamrolling Dallas team, even I – with my relentless optimism and my steadfast defending of Coughlin, Eli, Plax, and Shockey – would have conceded the season. But if we showed up and gave a game effort, I was not ready to give up on the season.

Before the Dallas game, I wrote the following:

“So if we don’t win tomorrow, I’m not prepared to write the season off. I mean, it obviously depends on how we play. Like, if the offense continues to shit the bed and Romo slices us up, than yes, I will be very, very down on this team and will believe that even if we get our guys back and make the playoffs, we’re really not a serious contender.

“But if the offense comes alive a little and we hang with the Cowboys but just don’t get a few bounces? It’s still only one game, and anything can happen, which means that if we get to the playoffs, get a little healthier, and see these guys again… I like our chances just fine.”

And what happened in the Cowboy game? We showed up. We showed up big time against a team that nobody had been playing better than. Eli came back strong and played a very good game. We intercepted Romo twice, which were his first two picks since we last intercepted him twice. We outplayed the ‘Boys, but we just didn’t get the “few bounces” that I referred to.

It was a devastating loss, of course, but it was so devastating because we outplayed them. But that game showed that we are capable of bouncing back from adversity. And that counts for something. Yes, I know everyone wants to label the G-Men as underachieving crybaby bitches, but please, can we give them credit for playing hard and well against the Cowboys? And even though we came out on the wrong end of the scoreboard, can we give them credit for bouncing back from last week’s loss to get a road win today?

I feel it. I really do feel it. Sure, we hit rock bottom during that four game losing streak, but we’ve shown the ability to get back up. When we lost to Jacksonville, I wouldn’t have said this about this team, but, strangely, after more two losses and one win, I believe that the 2006 Giants are a team that can take a punch. What didn’t kill us has made us stronger.

Even after enduring one of the most horrific stretches in recent memory, consider the possibilities at this point: We can safely assume that two wins in the next three games (against Philly, New Orleans, and at Washington) will get us into the playoffs. But I expect to win all three.

Once there, is there anyone in the NFC that is better than us? Do you really think the Bears are better than us at this point, what with Tommie Harris lost for the season and Rex Grossman playing worse than Eli ever has? Do you think the Cowboys are better than us? Even after last night? It would be strange if you did, because, after all, we just outplayed them. The Seahawks? They just lost to the Cardinals. The Saints? Please. We’ll show them in a couple of weeks. Jeremy Shockey was right: When we are playing our game, we should beat any of these teams.

II.

God, I had forgotten how good this feels. Winning makes all the difference on a Sunday: For the first time in a month (!), I looked forward to watching the Sunday night game (yes, Saints!) as well as all the highlights tonight and tomorrow.

One of the things that made this losing streak so depressing was that the games were all late games. The rainy Sunday night against Chicago; the Monday night loss at Jacksonvile; the dismal 4:00 losses against the Titans and Cowboys. A little after 4 today, with a Giants win under my belt, I thought to myself, “Maybe watching the G-Men doesn’t have to be such a painful experience after all.”

III.

Now, not to take anything away from this win – we did beat them 27-13, in their place, after all – but it’s worth mentioning that we got really lucky today in some key situations.

–The Jacobs Fumble: I don’t know how Shaun Williams didn’t recover this, but somehow, he whiffed, the ball somehow squirted out from underneath him, and Shockey picked it up. All I can say is that I’m glad Shaun Williams isn’t on our team anymore – that guy sucks. But anyway, if Williams pounces on that, the score would have remained 10-10 after a first half in which we thoroughly outplayed those chumps.

But Williams missed, Shockey recovered, and we scored a touchdown on the next play to take an authoritative 17-10 lead into the half.

–The two other fumbles we were lucky enough not to lose:

1) Morton’s fumble on his punt return: For maybe the second time all season, Chad Morton broke a punt return into the open field. Unfortunately, he’s really, really slow, and he got run down from behind by a linebacker. Not only that, but he got the ball popped out of his hands, even though not fumbling is pretty much the only thing the guy is good at.

A different bounce and the Panthers would have had the ball back with another chance to tie the game, but fortunately for us, the ball skipped out of bounds and we kept possession. We kicked a field goal that series and went up by 10.

2) With 4:34 remaining in the 3 quarter, and the Giants up 27-17, Eli fumbled at the 2 yard line. Luckily, Jim Finn – who had an excellent game, by the way – was Johnny on the Spot. Although he was the only Giant in the area, he pounced on the rock and allowed us to maintain possession. Had Carolina recovered the fumble, they probably would have scored a touchdown to pull within an eminently surmountable 10 points with around 20 minutes left in the game.

So basically, we fumbled three times in consequential situations and recovered all of them. In football, that’s, like, the definition of luck.

–The dropped pick by Thomas Davis (#58): Whoa, did Eli got away with one here! I don’t know how this guy dropped this pick, but on the next play, Eli hit Shockey on a 25-yard seam to keep the eventual scoring drive going. (This was the same series in which Jacobs would later fumble – and we would recover!) This touchdown drive was big. I’m telling you.

–The Panthers’ many drops. How many passes did these guys drop? I’d say around 8. And don’t forget Weinke’s many horrendous throws. I don’t care if that team was a hard-luck 6-6 and that they were supposed to be a Super Bowl contender. That team we played today sucked.

IV.

On the other hand, the only reason that we hadn’t built up a bigger lead early on is because we got seriously screwed on some calls.

–1) The call of incomplete on that hitch to Plax in the first quarter. We even challenged this! I don’t see how there wasn’t an angle that showed that the ball didn’t hit the ground. Anyway, that deprived us of a 1 down, and we went 3-and-out on the series.

–2) The blatant pass interference on Tim Carter early in the second quarter. A really obvious call that the refs missed. If they make the call, we’re in field goal range. That’s three points right there.

–3) DeShawn Foster totally fumbled on that play that Osi crashed the “mesh point” (4 minutes into the second quarter). But the refs blew the play dead, screwing over the G-Men. Had they not prematurely blew the whistle, we would have taken over in the Carolina red-zone. (And didn’t they just make a new rule this year that was supposed to address such situations? Please.)

It’s fair to say that calls 2 and 3 wound up costing us at least 6 points.

V.

My game ball goes to both Kevin Dockery and Tim Lewis. Props to Dockery for stepping his play up after halftime, and props to Lewis for making the adjustment that allowed him to do so.

In the first half, Dockery was a glaring vulnerability. After the Giants scored a touchdown to go up 7-0, the Panthers responded by picking on the undrafted rookie. Aside from a 12-yard DeShaun run, the Panthers passed to a receiver covered by Dockery on three out of four plays on their ensuing answer, culminating in a 36-yard touchdown to Drew Carter.

Dockery got abused on that drive, and I remember thinking: Why are we sticking this guy on the island? Why not stick R.W. (who was sort of playing a nickel/slot position) out there?

Well, the original thinking was clear enough. R.W. is a much better tackler and blitzer, and Lewis and co. wanted him in the slot where he would be closer to the action. They had hoped that Dockery could hold his own out at one corner, but they were wrong. The kid got slayed up, and we paid the price (There was an additional 39-yard completion to Carter – Dockery gave up around 100 yards in the first half alone).

But credit the coaching staff for making the necessary adjustment: The stuck R.W. on the corner and put Dockery in the slot, where R.W. had been playing.

The reward was immediate. On 3 down of the Panthers first series, Dockery jumped around intended for Steve Smith and almost picked it. Either way, he made the play and broke it up – the Panthers punted and we came back with a field goal to extend our lead to 10.

For the rest of the half, the dude was all over the place. He made a couple of key plays a couple of possession later, and on the possession after that, he jumped a route beautifully and made a tremendous pick that, with under 10 minutes left in the game and the Giants up by 17, pretty much sealed the deal.

Nice job by the rook, and a nice job by the braintrust. And, of course, a nice job by R.W., as always. How huge has the Dubs been for us? Watching R.W. this year reminds me of the sentiments of Charlie Donovan when he first laid eyes on Pedro Cerrano hitting the shit out of the straight-ball in spring training: “How come nobody else picked up on him?”

This guy’s been a Godsend, and at this point of the season, I would be pretty pissed if Corey Webster came back and cut into his playing time. The secondary is a bit of a vulnerability, but if we have Madison (who looks really solid these days) and R.W., two solid veterans, I think we’ll be okay.

I.

How much pain can you stand? At this point, it’s beyond anger – I think my anger peaked last week after Vince Young picked up that first down on 4th and 10 when Kiwanuka let him go and then Demps missed the tackle. Everything since then has been more like a cruel joke, at our expense, which keeps on getting more sadistic at every turn. And no matter how amped the Meadowlands crowd was today (props to them), and no matter how well Eli played (props to him), things only seem to get worse.

II.

Where to start? Well, as in all close games, this one was decided by a few plays. Let’s take a look at some of them:

–First Quarter, 3:03: Kiwanuka interception, then fumble

After we authoritatively march down field and score to take a 7-0 lead, a horrendous Feely kick gives the Cowboys good field position. A deep pass to Whitten lands them in Giants territory (sound familiar?), but two plays later, ‘Nuke appears to (partially) atone for last week’s Vince Young gaffe by picking off a Romo pass.

But as he’s making his way close to midfield, he somehow loses the ball. After repeating viewings of the play, it looked like ‘Nuke, sensing imminent contact, tried to secure the ball with both hands, but in so doing, clumsily dropped it on the carpet.

Pretty inexplicable, but when the Cowboys recovered, that probably cost the Giants at least three points.

–First Quarter, 1:42: Pierce’s pass interference

Three plays later, Romo fired one deep downfield for a streaking Anthony Fasano, who was running an endzone seam on Antonio Pierce. Pierce’s coverage wasn’t terrible, but he grabbed Fasano’s upper-right arm before their feet got tangled up, causing Fasano to fall to the ground. The flag flew in after Fasano hit the ground, but the actual pass interference was for the arm-grab. Had their feet not gotten tangled up, they probably wouldn’t have thrown the flag. (But then again, if their feet hadn’t gotten tangled, Fasano may have caught the ball.) As it happened, the pass interference gave the Cowboys a 1st and goal at the 1. They punched in the touchdown on the next play.

So in a span of four plays, we went from: Having the ball close to midfield, with offensive momentum and a 7-0 lead; to: tied 7-7. We let them off the hook, and we would pay the price later.

–Second Quarter, 12:07: Plax’ personal foul

Two plays after catching a lucky break when Anthony Henry was flagged on a phantom pass interference penalty on Plax to give the Giants a first down on 3rd and long, Plax gave it right back with an asinine, after-the-whistle pop on Cowboys safety Anthony Davis.

This put the Giants at a 2nd and 25, taking them from the Dallas 41 back to their own 44. Although we picked up 18 yards on the next two plays, we came up well short of both the first down and field goal range. It’s fair to say that the personal foul (the first of four!) cost the Giants at least three points.

–Second Quarter, 1:30: The failed 4th down attempt

Coughlin’s decision to go for it is debatable. NYGMen commentator Dan was on it from the beginning. “What the fuck is wrong with Coughlin!” he exclaimed in a voicemail message.

Whether the call was correct or not, let’s look at the play: The announcers blamed Bob Whitfield for not making his block on DeMarcus Ware, the guy who wound up making the tackle on Jacobs. But upon closer inspection, I think the guiltier party was actually Rich Seubert.

As an extra tight end on the play, Suebert’s job was to block down on end Chris Canty while Whitfield pulled around and kicked out outside linebacker DeMarcus Ware. The hole between Seubert-Canty and Whitfield-Ware was where the play was supposed to go. But Canty stood his ground, clogging up that hole just enough so that Jacobs bounced the run outside, right into the waiting arms of the kicked-out Ware.

If you watch the play, there was a little bit of a hole, which Jim Finn led through to block Bradie James, but basically, the area was pretty clogged. Jacobs may have prematurely bounced the run outside a little, and Whitfield may not have gotten quite the ideal kick-out block, and so, to a degree, both those guys were at fault. But Canty’s stuffage at the point of attack was really what blew the play up. It was yet another play in this game that cost us at least three points.

–Second Quarter, 0:22: (Marion) Barber’s 25-yard run

Facing a 3rd and 1 at the G-Men 48 yard-line with just 22 ticks remaining, Marion Barber broke open a huge run that put the Cowboys in comfortable field-goal range. A first down wouldn’t have been that costly, but the 25-yard gain was.

Looking at the film, it appeared to be a perfect call for the defense – I don’t know if we were “out-coached” on the play or what, but we were certainly out-numbered at the point of attack.

R.W., who was responsible for outside contain on the play-side, found himself one-on-one with a guard. Because he ceded about 120 pounds to the guy who was blocking him, R.W. tried to slip inside the block and then recover in time to shut off the outside. But when the guard got a body on him he was unable to keep contain. And when the pursuing Antonio Pierce got cut by a down-blocking Patrick Crayton, Barber was off for a big gain (which was 10-yards longer than it should have been because of a[nother] missed tackle by Will Demps).

The play after the next, Gramatica drilled a field goal to put his team up by 3 at the half and send the G-Men into the locker room to a chorus of boos.

–Third Quarter, 5:31 to 4:41: With 1st and goal at the 4, the G-men manage only a field goal

The first of the two consecutive times when we failed to capitalize on first and goal. It’s hard to isolate a particular play or play-call on this one – the G-Men just didn’t come through.

An incomplete fade to Plax, a stuffed Tiki run, and a good play by Anthony Henry to break up the 3rd down pass to Shockey. We settle for the field goal when we really should have had the touchdown.

–Fourth Quarter, 10:42: With 1st and goal at the 8, the G-Men manage only a field goal.

Call this Part II. An impressive drive downfield takes us deep into Cowboy territory, but we again fail to capitalize. This time, we actually may have gotten lucky: Eli’s 3rd down pass to Plax was read and jumped by the savvy Aaron Glenn, but Glenn dropped what should have been an easy pick.

Either way, if you have two consecutive 1st and goals from inside the 10, you should score more than 6 points. We wound up tying the game, but as Colonel Tom said after the Jacksonville loss, “We’re leaving points on the board.”

–Fourth Quarter, 6:01: Gibril’s inexplicable whiff on the flat-pass to Patrick Crayton

Yet another play this season that perfectly encapsulates this team’s maddening propensity to blow opportunities. Gibril read it perfectly and made an amazing break on the ball – it looked like one of the easiest interceptions-returned-to-the-house-untouched that you will see, an incredible gift just when we needed it most. This play could, and should, have turned our season around.

But alas, Gibril misjudged it a little bit and broke a little too much upfield on the ball – he should have widened his angle into the flat a little more. Consequently, he had to strain a little to reach for the ball, and even though he got his left hand on it, it continued on course and into the arms of Patrick Crayton’s, who turned it upfield for the first down.

What makes this play even more painful is the fact that it occurred on 3rd down – even if Gibril didn’t pick it but merely broke it up, we would have been four points better off.

But in the world of the 2006 Giants, the play went for a first-down. The ‘Boys scored a touchdown a few plays later.

–Fourth Quarter, 1:00: The Whitten Play

Shades of Monday night, 2003. Shocking, and, as in 2003, it was preceded by another shitty kickoff and shitty coverage. (I don’t have the stats on this, but as Troy Aikman pointed out, our kickoff coverage was atrocious. What’s happened to Feely’s leg this year?)

But anyway, the play itself: First, credit belongs to Romo for 1) eluding the rush and rolling out of the pocket. He did this exceptionally well all game; and 2) throwing a perfect strike to Whitten.

Second, blame goes to the Giants defensive scheme. It was hard to know who was at fault here, but both Whitten and T.O. (who was dragging across the field behind Whitten) where behind the Giants last man, which should have been Will Demps.

For his part, Demps had jumped a route on a receiver who was wide open on the sideline, so it’s hard to blame him on the play. Either way, when Romo rolled out, he found Whitten in single coverage with Pierce, and T.O. in single coverage with Kevin Dockery. Both Cowboys handily beat their respective men (this was Pierce’s second key lapse in pass coverage this game), and Romo put the throw on the money.

And despite a false-start that knocked the Cowboys back 5-yards, Gramatica won it four plays later.

1)  15:00  It began on the very first play of the fourth quarter. Facing a 4th and 4 at the Tennessee 41, Colonel Tom eschewed the Feely field goal attempt that would have put the G-Men up by four scores (probably – you know, with two point conversions and everything). (You can’t really blame him: It was his misguided faith in Feely’s atrophying leg that was so scrutinized two weeks ago.)

But anyway, we go for it. We’re in the shotgun, with David Tyree as one of the up-backs. Eli takes the snap, and right from his release, it’s pretty obvious that Tyree is wide the fuck open. But Eli does not look his way. Instead, he attempts a very awkward jump-throw to a well-covered Tim Carter, which is broken up by rookie d-back Cortland Finnegan. The Titans take over, and although they went three-and-out on their ensuing series, it’s fair to say that Eli’s poor decision cost the Giants what turned out to be a very important 3 points.

This play underscores an important point about Eli, which will be revisited a few times in the course of this post: When he’s off, everything breaks down. It’s not just his accuracy. It’s his pocket presence and his decision-making as well. I’ve watched the play a bunch of times (thanks to NYGMen commentator Wong, and his big TV/Tivo), and Tyree was… um… wide the fuck open!! On the side. As the default dump-off option.

Anyway, as I said, that play cost us 3 points.

2)  14:24  But the Giants D stepped up on the next series. On 3rd and 9, Fred Robbins, who, at this point in the season, just might be the defensive player who has made the greatest overall contribution this year, came up with a big sack. He did the ballin’ thing, and after the next commercial break, when the focused on him on the sidelines, he did the coolest little wrist-flick from the sitting position. I mean, if there’s one man that can do a wrist flick and look really cool instead of looking like he’s making a bad gay joke, it’s Fred Robbins. (And also, how baked does Robbins look? That guy’s the man.)

3)  13:07  But alas, two plays later was the play that will probably go down as the defining play of Sunday’s loss, and if the Giants don’t get their shit together, the defining play of this Eli/Plax/Shockey/Coughlin version of the Giants: The first Pac-Man pick, during which Plax, like, you know, stopped running.

As far as Plax goes, there’s not much to say that hasn’t already been said. Obviously a monumental disgrace. Let me take use this space to posit, however, that Plax isn’t a complete dog as much as he’s a complete space cadet. There’s a difference. Randy Moss is a dog. Leon Lett is a space cadet. Kevin McReynolds is a dog. Manny Ramirez is a space cadet.

I think this is why Colonel Tom gave him somewhat of a pass about the whole situation. I mean, clearly Plax’s production does not match the sum of his physical attributes, but I really don’t think it’s because of lack of effort, but rather because he’s just kind of an out-of-it dude. To me, Plax’s mental shortcoming don’t speak so much of a bad attitude as of absent-mindedness. Remember, the guy is an excellent blocker who, although he doesn’t get any credit for it, has been responsible for many of Tiki’s long runs. You see the guy hustling on those plays.

The moronic plays are incredibly frustrating, yes (including those fumbles – God, those fucking fumbles!), but I don’t think they’re necessarily grounds for a whole-sale character assassination.

(And re: the tackle attempt, which the commentator was killing him on: It was a shitty tackle attempt, but I don’t think that he “gave up” on the tackle attempt. Obviously, the fact that he missed the tackle compounded the infuriating play, but come on, he was trying to make that tackle.)

4)  This is neither here nor there as far as the G-Men are concerned, but Bobby Wade is the biggest Hines Ward.

5)  11:10  The Titans picked up a first down on their next set but then went backwards, and faced 4th and 9 from the Giants 20. Ah, this was the Frank Walker penalty. A lot has been said about this play. NYGMen commentator Zeke Mowatt put it best:

Did anyone (besides me) think that Walker’s hit was perfectly clean? He didn’t hit him in the head, and Young was still in bounds. Young was about two yards away from the first, and could conceivably have extended the ball out. It was close to the line, but given the importance of the Giants stopping him on 4th down, shouldn’t the refs just let them play tackle football, even if there was a precious quarterback involved?

Complete bullshit, and this thing with protecting quarterbacks is out of control. The league really has to do something about this – it’s absurd. There was a critical roughing penalty in the Monday night game as well, when the Packer d-lineman Jenkins was flagged on a clearly bullshit, but extremely consequential penalty on Hasselbeck that kept a Seahawks drive going and propelled them to a tide-turning touchdown. What makes the Walker penalty especially painful now is that it set the stage for the infamous Nuke play later in the quarter.

6)  9:38  With a 3rd and goal from the 4, Vince Young somehow threaded the Pierce-Emmons needle on a 4-yard touchdown pass to Bo Scaife. How he got it in there, and how either of the two linebackers didn’t make a play, is beyond me. It was just one of those plays that showed you that Vince Young was the best athlete on the field.

(Something to note on that play is Young’s quick, catcher-throwing-down-to-second throwing motion, and how much it benefits a quarterback to have a quick throwing motion. Like, if that were Eli, by the time he would have gotten the ball to the top of the mini-windmill that it his throwing motion, the linebackers would have converged.)

7)  8:06  This play didn’t wind up being consequential, but it could have: On 3rd and 9 of the Giants ensuing series, Eli made a horrible decision, but was bailed out by his even worse pass. He tried to cram one into Shockey, but Pac-Man sniffed out the route and made a break on the ball. If the ball had been decently thrown, Pac-Man would have stepped and front and been gone for the touchdown. But as it happened, the pass was so terrible and so low that the diving Pac-Man couldn’t even catch it. This was one time that we were lucky that Eli threw off his back foot.

8)  8:02  But Pac-Man was not to be denied, and made a great return on the ensuing punt. Somehow, Chase Blackburn allowed Pac-Man to blow by him on the sideline and scurry for another 10 yards, bringing the ball back to the G-Men 36, meaning that the punt only netted us 20 yards.

9)  6:55  Blackburn wasn’t done fucking up. After the Titans picked up a first down on the 16, Blackburn, who was the force linebacker on the play-side, lost contain on Travis Henry, allowing to Henry to pick up 9 yards. This gave the Titans 2nd and 1 at the Giants 7, which is a pretty ideal situation for an offense. They scored three plays later to pull within 7.

10)  It is worth mentioning at that the Titans kept eight men in the box the whole fourth quarter. Considering they were down by 21 points with, like, 10 minutes late, it was a pretty obvious strategy. But the Giants utter inability to move the ball at all was a painful reminder of 1) Colonel Tom’s notorious struggles to make in-game adjustments; and 2) The fact that when Eli is off, defenses can completely overplay the run with no fear of getting burned by the pass. Eli is that ineffectual when he’s off.

11)  4:31  Ah, but Eli actually did something good on the Giants’ next series! On 3rd and 5, when the Giants desperately needed a first down, Eli took off an a clutch scramble to cross the Fox yellow line. This was the first good thing that had happened in a while. At the time, I thought that the play would give us the little boost we needed to put down the insurrection.

12)  3:29  But no. On the subsequent 3rd and 9, Eli was flushed out of the pocket by a Titans rush, but when he moved right, he found himself out in space with, basically, all the time and space in the world to find a man and make a throw. As NYGMen commentator Wong pointed out, “Yo, he literally had about four seconds to make a throw right there.”

But instead of waiting for one of his receivers to come back to him or make a move or anything, Eli totally panicked, settling for a little four yard dump-off to a well-covered Tiki, who was brought down short of the first down immediately after catching the pass.

Yet another example of how all facets of Eli’s game break down when he’s struggling. I wrote this last week, and it still holds true: Young Elisha is lost.

13)  2:58  Even after all this, after they punted the Giants were still in a pretty good position to win the game. Momentum notwithstanding, the Titans had to drive 76 yards in 2:58 to tie the game.

14)  2:48  Things looked ever better three plays later, when Nuke made an awesomely athletic play in pass coverage and broke up a 3rd down pass to Drew Bennett, bringing up 4th and 10. (There was some debate as to whether Nuke actually got a piece of it, but after analyzing the film, it seems as if he did. The telltale evidence: the abruptly went from a spiral to a duck right when Nuke dove across.)

15)  Things (finally) looked as if they might turn out okay at this point. Yes, it was still a shameful, awful fourth quarter collapse, but the Titans did face a do-or-die 4th and 10 at their own 24. But in the span of three swift, devastating plays, they were once again deep in our territory.

1— 2:44  The Kiwanuka play. Enough has been said about this play, but please, let’s put the “he gave up on the play” thing to bed, okay? It was perfectly obvious to anyone with half a brain what Nuke was thinking: Young’s arm went forward, Nuke thought he threw, and he didn’t drive him to the ground because he feared the 15-yard penalty from the same crew that unjustly flagged Walker earlier in the quarter.

(The dipshit Fox commentator really got on my nerves on this one – he kept on harping about the unconscionableness of Nuke’s play, comparing it to Plax’s play as a Giants “give-up” play. Nuke didn’t give up on the play – he simply guessed wrong and made a stupid but understandable choice. Saying that Nuke “gave up” on the play is almost as stupid as saying that John Kerry meant to insult the American troops when he made that “stuck in Iraq” comment. Like, willful ignorance of someone’s motives is such a cheap stunt.)

Lost amid the noise about Kiwanuka was Will Demps’ horrendous effort on the play. The guy is a safety, one on one against a quarterback, and he couldn’t even lay a finger on him – he got juked out of his shoes! Tackling Young is a tough assignment, but all Demps had to do on the play was slow Young up a little, because Fred Robbins was flying to the ball. A horrible play. Demps has been a disappointment.

2— 2:31  On the very next play, Kevin Dockery gave way too much of a cushion – like, an 11-yard fucking cushion! – to Titans receiver Roydell Williams. Well, the guy wound up running a hitch, and because Dockery gave him such a big cushion, he was able to put an open-field move on Dockery and pick up 20 yards on the play. From 4th and 10 on their own 24 to 1st and 10 at the Giants 37.

(Dockery’s cushion was absurd. It would wind up haunting the Giants on the Titans’ last drive and even a couple plays later, when Drew Bennett caught a 7 yard pass in front of him.)

3— 1:59  This was the Vince Young scramble, which picked up 16 yards and moved the ball to the 21. It’s hard to fault anyone in particular on this play, but, if it hadn’t occurred to you at this point, this is when the Vince Young of this game really looked like the Vince Young of last year’s Rose Bowl. This was when the Fox commentator said, “He’s a gazelle. I mean, he is smooth now.” Unstoppable.

16)  :49  The touchdown. The tying fucking touchdown. Frank Walker’s coverage actually wasn’t bad; rather, the fault on the play lied with Will Demps, who was nowhere to be found in over-the-middle safety help. Brandon Jones’ post route made him the only receiver in the area, but Demps was in no-man’s land. Young threw a beautiful ball and the game was implausibly tied.

17)  :32  We bring the kickoff back to around the 20, complete a 9-yard pass, and then Eli throws another pick. A cruel joke.

The announcer criticized the decision for Eli to throw, but it actually wasn’t such a bad decision: David Tyree was wide open on the sideline. All Eli had to do was display a little touch and loft it over Pac-Man’s head. But no. And God, what a fucking quarter by Pac-Man.

18)  :23  I know this is painful, but only two more plays to go. On the Titans first play from scrimmage, Young completed an 11-yard out pass to Bo Scaife on the right side, made possible from a blown coverage by Antonio Pierce. Nobody is immune from the team-wide slump.

19)  :18  On the next play, Kevin Dockery once again gave way too much of a cushion to the man he was covering – a cushion that gave the Titans just enough yards to get into field goal range. Vince Young hit Brandon Jones on a 7 yard hitch, giving the Titans the ball at the NYG 31.

The field goal unit trotted out.

“I don’t have the words to talk about it right now, and I probably won’t when I see it [on film]. We’re going to be sick about this one forever.”

“A new low!”

I.

And you thought you were pissed after the Bears and Jaguars games. But are you even pissed? Is that the right word? Stunned is more like it for me. I think my anger peaked when Young hit Brandon Jones on the slant for the 14-yard touchdown to tie the game. After that play, I can’t say I was surprised or even upset about anything that happened. The dominoes had already started to topple – even if Eli doesn’t throw his latest unconscionable pick, was there any way that we win that game in OT? And even if we had won that game in OT, would you as a Giant fan have actually felt good about it?

In a way, I think it’s actually better that we lost. Bironas’ kick was a swift enough coup de grace. The game ended in a Giants loss, as it should have.

II.

In terms of awful Giants losses during my career, this ranks number 3 on the list, behind only 1) The 49ers loss in the 2002 playoffs; and 2) The Vikings loss in the ’97 playoffs.

The only reason that this isn’t number 1 is because the circumstances weren’t as critical. But in terms of an actual game, this is the most improbably awful chain of events. But the fact that, for better or worse, there will be more Giant football this year and that we can right this ship (at least, like, theoretically), makes it a little easier to swallow this loss. But not really. I am stunned.