Author: Steve-O

23-24′ Season Recap

My hope is that this season remains an outlier. Not because it was bad in any way. It wasn’t. This final recap will usher you through a strange, confounding, stirring, sometimes jarring, but ultimately redemptive Jewball 2023-2024 campaign. It’s a season that is hard to describe. It was like a Jewball delicacy comprised of all the usual ingredients, but the result when served had an unfamiliar taste. It was a flavor we had not experienced in the modern era. Not sour at all. But not entirely sweet. Too easy to call it salty. So I’ll just say it was different. And we all know why. Early on in the season, I wrote:
A lot of voices out there might have us question the integrity of our name. Without minimizing how difficult it is and has been to be a member of other tribes and backgrounds, it’s not easy right now to be a Jew. I guess then – since we are all one under this banner – it’s not easy right now to be a Jewballer. I have opinions and thoughts and philosophies about what is going and where it might go, but I’m smart enough to know to keep them to myself and to not listen to those of others. Let’s just stay strong. Stay together. Get through this abysmal era one game at a time.
All these months later, not much has changed. It’s still a hard time to be a Jewballer. And I really don’t want to go too far down that rabbit hole. In a way, this isn’t the place – even though in our final recap, liberties are taken. My problem is that how can I ignore it? A dark cloud hung over our season courtesy of Taylor Swift. It pains me that when Storm was doing his promo for the Patriots and he said next time he’s gonna shout out Jewball, my first thought was….best not to do that now. Our name has been tarnished and degraded. It’s an undeniable fact that we cannot rationalize our way around. In the meantime, we live on, we ball on, but it’s the stuff of tragedy. On this erev Pesach, as I write just a few blocks from where I watched the draft, the words and message of V’hi Sh’amda echo in my head and lead to where I wanted to go anyway. And that is to talk about our persistence.
“And this is what kept our fathers and what keeps us surviving. For, not only one arose and tried to destroy us, rather in every generation they try to destroy us, and God saves us from their hands.”
Or, as the Jewball Haggadah might have it:
And this is what kept the Vets and what keeps us on the field. For, not only have injuries, apathy, excuses, chumash plays, and brisses tried to destroy us, rather in every generation they try to destroy us, and our demented persistence saves us from their hands.
It’s a cheap literary and oratory device to quote the dictionary, but I’m going for it in this case:
To Persist: To go on resolutely or stubbornly in spite of opposition or warning. To continue to exist especially past a usual, expected, or normal time.
Well, damn. If that doesn’t just sum up Jewball as well as the people it was named after. But before we dig in on the nature of our persistence and perhaps even the basis for it, we need to contrast that with the comeback. Lest ye accuse this final recap of plagiarizing from its immediate predecessor. Simply put, a Comeback – as we discussed last year – involves the combining of a returner and a returnee – plus faith. One party separates (for internal or external reasons) from the other, and, with each side harnessing the unquantifiable force of faith, they reunite or reconnect. While persistence may factor in, it isn’t a necessary ingredient. It’s no coincidence that we argue each year about CPOY and who is worthy of it. And we all become Talmudic scholars, differentiating and distinguishing. That’s not really a comeback. He was injured. He was away. But, isn’t that Most Improved (like Legs 😜)? We struggle to define exactly what a Comeback is. I think this tension represents our inability to figure the difference between a comeback candidate and someone who has shown exceptional persistence.
I call the following storyline from this past season underrated only because it’s too massive to fathom or appreciate to the proper extent. That is when Rabin surprised us at the Turkey Bowl with a visit from the Oracle. It happened also to be the day Dom came down to set up and ref. Which – if you recall – was a few days after we rallied a bit to help Dom out with Thanksgiving expenses. We came down, we played football, we had a good time, Dom had a good time, we had photo ops with the Oracle, we appreciated, and we moved on. But it’s now a time for reflection. So let’s reflect.
I think these three separate coinciding events represent the transcendent state of Jewball. We will talk about on the field heroics soon enough, but Jewball has become – for better or….nah, just for better – as much about on the field as off. That is not to say we have neglected our football. Jewball will ALWAYS be a quality football first enterprise. However, in the age of the Enlightenment, we have developed the perfect equilibrium between quality football and quality living – quality existence. So, Dom reffing, our sensitivity to our Jewball family, and our reverence for the traditions and are founders/Vets – while all “off the field” criteria – they encapsulate who we presently are.
The Oracle is persistence personified. Maaseh avos siman labanim. The ordeals of the forefathers become symbols to the generations. We must look no further than the answering machine of legend. Jewball was incubated in the cogs, wheels, and tape of that prehistoric answering machine. When a man takes the time and effort to re-record the greeting each time someone calls in to commit to playing football (on a haphazard grass field that will at most max out at 5-5, and back when winters were cold) so that the game can be organized – so that it can happen despite the odds…that is resolute! That is stubborn! We were born in the flames of that persistence! So is it any surprise that we continue to exist – especially past a usual, expected, or normal time?
The Oracle is our Av. Rabin as well. Who is more persistent than Rabin! Think about what he has endured!! And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the season the Oracle finally returns to the field – the season where I finally get to meet the man that gave me and us the gift of Jewball – is the season of our Rookie class that produced Ice Man, Sherriff, and Mike, among others. The season where MVP returned. The year when Spira rejoined the family as a full-fledged Jewballer.
Ice Man did not make a comeback. He tried Jewball and it went badly. He came down and quit. We yelled back, “You can’t quit, you’re fired!” And…if we and he had left it at that, we never would have seen this – his revelatory ROY winning season. But there was a persistence about him. There was a willingness to push through as he pushed through Pray in the snow. His persistence has won him awards, a championship, and the admiration, fear, and respect of every Jewballer. What I love about Ice Man is what he shares with our 2022-2023 ROY – and what makes the future so blindingly bright…that is, his mind-bending talent combined with such a prolific comprehension of what we are trying to do here.
Same with the Sherriff. He was out of football. A dude with memories of his glory days playing for Perla and the Brooklyn Beasts. But Perla persisted! And joined us – and continues to persist through whatever slings and arrows we throw at him. And it allowed for his return to TNF. Which brought the Sherriff out of retirement and the Jewballers to meet him. And it was love at first sight. As I say every year when the Rookies join up…..imagine Jewball without the Sherriff?! It doesn’t exist! He drives in from far off lands and lights up the field with his sheer joy for the game (his top tier skills are almost a bonus.) While we are talking about those who persist through distance. How about Stats? How about Dobs coming in from Passaic, NJ! Jewballers! Think about the resolve! Cower in awe of the stubbornness!!!
Who takes more abuse than Mike…..and yet….anyone see him backing down? Anyone see him not calling himself first round material next year. You call it delusional. I call it a grandiose expression of the ultimate and quintessential Jewball quality. I promise you, if you think you know Mike – you do not. He has only begun to persist! The dude has depths that must be excavated and quarried and plumbed like a day in the office for Rabin. I remind everyone of the Rook from just a few years back. Who saw that guy exploding into the leader he is today? Jewball is a beautiful thing because it equally encourages, inspires, engenders and rewards persistence.
Moving on from the Rookies, how about the Vets that showed us the way this year. My God…..Dov Snow…the MVP…I am sitting here with goosebumps trying to fathom the journey this man has taken to return to football – and then take his team to the championship game. Dov, in this year of my rehab, there were so many times just thinking of your resolve and stubbornness – convinced me that giving up was not an option. Jewballers, was he the Dov Snow of old who won championships with Munch and Singer? No, of course not. Is Singer coming back next year? Oh, hells yeah. Was Snow the MVP of this season? He wasn’t. But you know what? He could have been. Because Jewball MVP considers multiple factors and Dov Snow exemplified the factors that make me proudest to be a Jewballer. The dedication to the game. To his fellow Jewballers. And a relentless persistence to push yourself to the brink. To – in a way – risk it all. It’s crazy. I know it sounds crazy. I’m typing the insane words and they read insane. But this is our lot and the length of our days. We have found something here of the mundane world and we have imbued it with a lofty spirit. So…at this point I embrace it like God’s hug of the week.
And speaking of bad Jewball puns….let us take a moment to sing the praises of Spira. Guys, he’s older than me! He hasn’t played football for twenty years. 20 YEARS! Let me give you a modern day example of what happened. It’s as if Pray retired at the end of this season and kept in touch more or less through the guys who remember him from this era as being the man. The guy who welcomed them in. The guy who was revered by all for his good nature and great gridiron prowess. And then, for no clear reason, returned to the game in his late 40s….and still managed to impress everyone – both young and old. Sounds like a fantasy. You wouldn’t believe it if it was the plot of a movie. And yet….Jewball….this is exactly what happened! Spira caught everything in his vicinity back in 2002 and he did the same damn thing in 2024. He ran precise routes then…and now. He overanalyzed everything then…and now. The only difference between the 2002 version and the present is that somehow over the past 20 years at some point Spira decided for no good apparent that he was funny. Spira, thanks for being there when I first got to Jewball and showing me what persistence means. You and Rabin. I am so grateful that both Jewball and Jewball persistence became part of who I am. And that we are still here to prove that it is so much more than a theory, a concept, an esoteric idea – but it’s a reality we can live in – as long as we persist.
When I think of Jewish persistence, and need to internalize it to get me through another day of these miserable days – I think of the diaspora. I think of the exile. I think of my ancestors being banished and chased from their precious homeland of Israel time and again and just wandering, starting anew, and despite whatever persecution or success they achieved in lands not their own, they dreamed of return. They mourned and prayed for return. They yearned for the ability to come home. What our enemies do not know (and surely don’t want to know) is that Jews – all Jews – whether European, Latino, American, Arabian, or wherever and whenever we are and were – we have – for thousands of years – just as we will tonight – sing with passionate hearts – Next Year in Jerusalem! Not Next Year in London, or New York, or the Five Towns or Lakewood. Now, the fact that we now have the ability to return and yet we persist in the exile by choice….that’s a topic for another day – perhaps Zezzy or Joey can drop some knowledge on us. But my point is – and my comfort is – they don’t know us. Jews are vilified for their persistence but their persistence will always defeat the vilification. Always.
Which brings me to the persistence of our Jewballers in exile. Whether it be Zezzy by always making sure to come back for a game every season. Or Effie and Jesus who all the boys know because they never forget their roots. Or Waldo who broke our hearts and his own by leaving for sunnier shores mid-season. But of course we have no brighter star pointing the way out of the galus than Prime. Our very own Exilarch. His yearning to come home is the torch and beacon that both warms and guides – lighting the way back. He dreamed of return – and so he will. As Effie will. Because Jewball persistence – like Jewish persistence – is not bound by the rules of time and space.
Everyone knows by now, at this point in the recap, I distract with one MVP and it’s always a bait and switch. Like if I started talking about Zinn here, you’d know for sure it wasn’t him. My problem this year is…no one is going to fall for anything because it seems like it’s so obviously going to be…
Mighty. Let’s talk about Mighty. This wasn’t Mighty’s MVP season. I think a lot of us wanted it to happen – no one more than me. And it started out looking like an inevitability. Angry Mighty was dead. Happy Mighty rolled up on a pink scooter – an homage to the player Mighty humbly called the only player better than himself in Jewball history. When Zinn was asked about the compliment, he seemed truly touched and responded, “Who’s Mighty?” The Rat was revitalized. Singer was on the sideline for the season to prevent the Rat from getting his stats, and he was getting them in droves. Picks. TDs. Jewballs. The stars were aligning. I started writing the portion of this recap that reminisced about the impact Mighty made on Jewball and how he was, is, and always will be the first superstar of Jewball. There was nothing like him before and because of that there will never be anything like him again. Zez’s impact was compared to Mighty’s. Zinn’s as well. Ice Man, and so on. Jewball was only taken to the spectacular level once and it will forever be Mighty who took us there. Everyone who follows is standing in his tiny paw prints. The numbers remained until his final game, but it was clear that the injuries crept in. Perhaps the anger retuned in small doses. By the time he walked off the field with, according to some shitas, 21 minutes and seventeen seconds on the clock of a playoff game…the MVP conversation was reduced to an inaudible murmur. So be it. But what players like myself know – what younger plays cannot – younger players who can still do everything they want to do on the field and have not lost a step – is what kind of persistence it takes to keep lacing up even as the body deteriorates. Even as the wear can no longer be masked, or massaged, or wrapped. And this is why there will never be another Mighty. Because when he started losing some physical battles, he dug his trenches to fend off the mental wars. Is Mighty a head case? Of course he is. But he has to be. You don’t achieve what he has achieved in Jewball without having ridiculous resolve. Without being the most stubborn. Without persisting beyond the realms of normalcy. So while he is not our 2023-2024 MVP, he is the reigning superstar of Jewball for the past fifteen consecutive seasons. No one else can say that. And I doubt anyone ever will.
Unless Pray does it. There is no drama or suspense here. He won so damn much. He was an excellent, supremely likeable person and player three years ago when he won Jewball MVP – and – somehow – he got better. He became more of a Jewball icon. He overcame an injury like the psycho that he is and – perhaps a bit more limited in his run game – he became an assassin with a football. Cerebral and mercenary, yet inexplicably cool and charismatic. As I messaged him after the monsoon shalom zachor (what up, Feit): Thank you for being the kind of Jewballer that we all want to walk through the pouring rain for. He won a career high 16 games while throwing a career high 60 TDs. He lead his Birds to a preposterously dominant season – winning every game from opening day to the finals. He has forged a bromance with Prime that would make JD and Turk jealous. When he won it 3 years ago it was based on his performance, but also with a sense of optimism and desire that he would live up to the mantle bring thrust on him. Well, he blew past our wildest expectations. In a way – he won his first MVP because of who we hoped he would be. This MVP is won because of who he is – pure and simple. Pray, thank you for being who you are. Don’t let softball chat change you 😊. But, seriously – if Mighty is conscious, hard fought persistence, you are effortless persistence. It is your nature. The love of Jewball is your nature. Competing with us and being a role model for us is your nature. It’s such a blessing when the best advice someone can give you is….be you. Bro, be you…and Jewball will continue to benefit and thrive and feed off your brilliant aura. Three years ago I wrote:
“Pray, it is with both awe and gratitude that I present to you – by the powers invested in me as Recap writer – the Jewball 2020-2021 Season MVP. I see many more of these in your future, with God’s help. Amen.
Today I write:
Pray, it is with both awe and gratitude that I present to you – by the powers invested in me as Recap writer – the Jewball 2023-2024 Season MVP. I see many more of these in your future, with God’s help. Amen.
One last factor in this disjointed season was my own absence from the field – the only place that really matters. A Week 4 tendon tear ripped my left bicep from off the bone, resulting in a surgery, resulting in a rehab, which, all in all, stole 12 weeks of football from me. But as Pray, and Waldo, Ernie, Sting, Salem, and Oppen have had it worse and came back – and as Gronk is currently grinding it out – they don’t allow for excuses or self-pity. As they persisted, I must persist. And although I have missed time before – whether the classic ankle, or the finger tendon the season before the Revolution – or the plantaris the season before the Enlightenment. This injury was different. It wasn’t the career ender, but it was an eye opener. Every player is mortal. Even if you all have made me feel I was more than that at times. But the truth is the truth.
Next season will be my last as Commissioner. I will enter the Jewball galus, like Zez and MVP, Effie, and Waldo, and Prime. Dreaming of return. I will self-exile, not because of the injury. Not because it’s time or because I’m done. Just because I am replacing one persistence with another. My Jewish persistence has come into direct conflict with my Jewball persistence. One return will usurp another. One dream for another.
Jewball family, it’s been a 23-year dream. A dream that keeps getting better. A shared dream. A dream that is not over, nor will it be over. Jewball is our home and it always will be. Although the game must be played and played well and like you mean it – Jewball transcends the four painted corners of the turf and the orange cones we lay down. We all know it. So all that is left is to say thank you. In my absence – whether temporary (as I expect) or permanent (as you never know), it is on the collective to step up. To draft, and show on time, run, catch, grab, and tackle. To party, and congregate, and support. To be there for the games and for each other like never before. To post, write, and recap – produce and be creative and clever – in new and interesting ways . To make sure that those of us in the exile always have a home to return to.
We enter the off season with a message and motivation that will never change. Maybe we haven’t used this exact word before, but it’s always been a message of persistence. In health – both physical and mental. In fitness. In remaining unified and focused. In rising above this world which begs us to crumble while daring us to persist.

WEEK 13-14 Recap

As we barrel toward another Jewball season finale, we steadily begin to tighten the bow on a season that somehow is three quarters complete. The extraordinary beauty of the Jewball season is that it’s become all beauty. From the rookies added to the chat as if thrown into a pool of unlabeled, to the pre-season sunshine and shorts, all the way to the devastating final recap and the naming of our 2023-2024 MVP. It’s all just so damn beautiful – you can hardly stand it, like the stalker mused in American Beauty while watching a Gourmet Glatt bag rise and tumble in the whirlwind. All that taken for granted, there is something uniquely special about how our seasons wind down. I wouldn’t say we save the best for last, but I would say that much of our best times arrive with the culmination of our calendar. Whether it be the Vets Rookies match up (now a tourney), the climax of Leagues (now heightened as 2 of 4 teams will be eliminated from playoff contention), or the legendary Super Bowl BBQ, there is a concentrated awesomeness permeating our final quarter. And it has arrived. Hold on tight.

But it was more than that – for me – for us – as I sit here trying (struggling, I admit) to get this recap out. It feels both like tying up a loose end and connect the pieces of a fraying moment. A moment where we are reeling from a lack of football. If Jewball is life, then the football itself is chayenu v’orech yamainu (our essence and the length of our days). Without it, we gasp for air, stretching our arms from beneath the suffocating waves hoping someone pulls us from the barrens.  We unravel. We clamor for a lifeline. And I’m hoping this recap serves. And of course, I relish that opportunity. Mighty is wrong in stating that the recaps used to be better. I think what he subconsciously means is that the recaps used to be more meaningful. Not because of their content or erudition, but because they once upon a time literally meant more to Jewball. They were the thing that separated us. They bridged the gap between Sundays. Told our stories as if we were worthy of the myths crafted by the bards of yore. And maybe….just maybe….we were. Our story is currently in its infancy. Believe that. But the recaps were no better. Thank God they are just needed far less in the Enlightenment as the gap has been bridged by so many phenomenal developments.

The above being the case, I am particularly well positioned to write for this moment – as few have been starved of football more than this recapper. I think I went down in Week 4. That’s 12 weeks ago (which is 900 weeks in Jewball years). Haven’t played a single game with my League team. Shout out to my QB. Gronk, always thinking of you and your comeback. Let me tell you (Gronk, and all of you) how you get through an injury, a surgery, and a rehab at the age of 45/46. Easy. Be a part of something as indisputably enchanted as Jewball. Waldo knows. Sting knows. Pray knows. Salem (I remembered!) knows. A lot of guys know. Talk about motivation, Jewball. As creepy as this sounds, the last thought you have before the anesthesia washes over you is Jewball, the first thought coming out of it is Jewball. It’s the thought in the early stages of PT when you can hardly move. It’s the thought on the treadmill as you progress from slow walk to sprint, on the mat stretching and working to  resurrect muscle and bone and connective tissue, and in the weightroom as you shift into the gear of violence. It’s your faces, Jewballers. Your faces. Your spirits. The Jewball aura which has a power and force so massive that it has generated a gravitational pull.  We cannot deny what our eyes see. Dare I say what our hearts know.

Since we are going to be here for a while, I will take this opportunity to thank you for making my 46th birthday so un-46. Jewball is timeless in that it allows us to stand out of time. Time is of this earth. Jewball is composed of the ethereal stuff that God sprinkled here and there into creation to make life tolerable (survivable). It seems to me we’ve commandeered much of it. However, we are slowly but surely spreading it as well. Which I think is part of the reason for our good fortune. We do not horde our treasures.

So, again – the theme being my personal hakarat hatov toward all of you as I finally join you back on the field this Sunday – thank you for getting me through this rough season, but also through half my life.

Which brings me to this coming Sunday and the holiday we call Vets Rooks. It is our v’higgadata l’vincha (the commandment to tell the story of the exodus to your children). Every year, the same story told, but with new and fresh insight and innovations. I’ve been talking about Vets Rooks now for 18 years. It is a celebration of our game – all those who played before and those who have just joined. If recaps are meant to tie Jewball games week to week, season to season, Vets Rooks is symbolic of the grand tapestry we have been weaving for a quarter century. It’s the interconnection of strands representing stories, personalities, talent, heroics, cowardice, success, failure, victory, and defeat. But more than that – a tapestry – though quite overused in the metaphor department – is equal parts art, decoration, and chronicle. Vets Rooks is art because of the creative energies we inject into it. Just think of Sophomores becoming Smores and treating the field like a fashion runway last season. Vets Rooks is decoration because for so long it was the game that players came back for even amid failed or spotty seasons. It has always had the IT factor. It’s the game Singer flies in for. It’s the showcase for our league. And, most critically, it’s a chronicle. Because the Freshies become the Smores and the Smores become the Juniors and the Juniors became the Seniors. It’s a trackable narrative. An inscrutable progression of marvels and wonders and blessing beyond comprehension. To see the Freshies come in. For them to graduate. And graduate again. And finally reach a milestone that allows one to look down from the hilltop. To reach a status of Senior Veteran that never expires. A decade of Jewball time served. Ashreinu! How lucky we are! How fortunate are we to have spent such a significant portion of our lives as part of something so exceptional. How few things in life reward like Jewball in terms of the efforts put in being reciprocated in equal or greater measure. But, like I said – and this is where Vets Rooks “matters” – it’s the efforts put in. You gotta earn it. You also need good mazal. Really good mazal. Sticking around a game for ten years is something that few merit. When I take the field this Sunday with Snow, and Mighty….Steveo, Kut, Daveo, PJs, Tom… friends, teammates, truly brothers – my heart will be overflowing with gratitude and amazement. As all your hearts should be. The zechus to be a Freshie! To be a Sophomore! To be a Junior! To be a Jewballer! In your time. In this time. Whatever stage you are currently in, striving to merit the next stage. To play well and be healthy and be connected to our game and brotherhood. To be named even as a footnote in the chronicle. To be placed on the pedestal of these recaps. To account for a mere strand in the tapestry made of a thousand strands and counting. Do not take a single football Sunday for granted. But surely not Vets Rooks. It’s our only chag. The only mitzvah is to play like you mean it. The only kavanah is to be both laser focused on winning and competing while at the same time eternally grateful just to be there.

Let us now scroll up on the tapestry as we must tell the tales of how we got here. Working backwards before we work forwards. Week 8, which was postponed due to weather was cancelled when Yaron made sure that no game would be played without him. Pray put in a valiant effort to get a group together on the first Sunday of winter break, but Goldberg dropped, and then the dominoes started to fall. Sherrif said the field would be frozen. Kut bailed to support his hometown of Motown. So there went Week 8 and I believe this will officially be our shortest season since the Revolution. I’m fairly sure we’ve gone 20 up and 20 down the past 5 season. So, a shame. But it’s part of Jewball. As are Leagues, right now. And although we’ve been on a break from Leagues and will continue to break from them for another week, this recap will get us up to date with the high drama and Purim level topsy-turviness that was Game 4 of Leagues.

We begin with a drenching grey morning in Woodmere. The middle school was ours for the taking with no soccer or lacrosse being played in these foul conditions. And no 3rd game either. The Dawgs were shorthanded with some of their top, er, dogs unavailable – and it was decided to move that game to a later date. So Week 13 became a double feature: Cronies v. BOP and Crocs v. Cobras – side by side.

The Purple Cobras came into the game winless and left for dead. The Crocs came in with a winning record after two rousing victories in a row over both the Lionhearts and Dawgs. But call this one Jesus Bowl II as there was a resurrection afoot. The Purple Cobras came out for the first time with their full compliment of snakes ready to spit venom, and Perla was St. Patrick driving them out of Loserville. The Crocs looked like a team that didn’t want to be there. MVP was there on time with his Nerf Juniors football, waiting for his team and they rolled in sleepy-eyed. They seemed bothered by the weather and temperature and their body language suggested they believed a win would be handed to them just for showing up. Say what you want about a Perla constructed team, but they never stop fighting. And on this day, they were gonna fight. They were gonna make the Crocs a skidmark on the underpants of society. With the rain falling, they were about to pour it on. Even Goldberg showed up! The game itself was just what the doctor ordered for Cobras. It was the antidote. It was the medicine for what ailed them. Not just because the elements played into their strengths, but just because they had maintained a faith that if they showed up good things would happen. And they finally showed up. Perla would make a good lab tech because he loves him some chemistry. The Cobras experiment went into the game with a formula unproven and left it with a relative theory of how to make the postseason. I really wish I could recap the game itself in some compelling way, but once Cobras got off to the races they lapped Crocs numerous times. This one wasn’t close. Before you knew it, Cobras were up multiple scores, Perla was ecstatic on the sidelines and Sherrif (1 TD, 1 pick) was doing backflips in the endzone to celebrate TDs. Whiskey and Spira were relentless on the line. Talk about two under the radar unassuming pass rushers who don’t have the flashiness of an Oppen or the pedigree of a Kut, but who get after it. These dudes don’t stop. Watching Spira is a clinic. A classic lineman move is to give the sack a valiant effort – a burst – and see how that goes. If it fails, so be it. Spira does not stop. Tomax and Xamot sacked Snow 3 times. Solo was pressing Zinn all game, doing a great job neutralizing Crocs’ heretofore unstoppable weapon. And, finally, amid all the giddiness and revelry was an MK performance for the ages. For Cobras to continue their march to relevance, their stars need to show up. Not just to the games, but during the games. And MK brought his cape to Week 13. A man who once but lights in his beard lit up the Jewball stage with a 4 score day. 2 TDs caught, 1 rushed, and a P6. That’s what we call Jewball worthy. Good on ya, MK. The postscript for this team is unwritten. Will the Cobras be satisfied with this one day in the sun and slither back into their burrows, or will Perla continue to channel Joe Burows? They have a real playoff shot now and – for one – I hope they get it. Few games stand out in my Jewball memories, but I will remember this one. The rain. The joy. The backflips. And best of all – the potential realized and the possibilities born. It’s why we play the game.

Because the entire Woodmere Middle School shares the same climate, the 2-1 Cronies played the 3-0 BOP in equally wet conditions. The Cronies limped into Game 4. A team wracked by injuries, and reliant on back-ups. But what do you do when a back-up doesn’t show? What happens is that Yaron inevitably plays, and Brody – God bless ya, with your willingness and wristband of plays – shifts back to WR (albeit needing some breathers). And Waldo – who is probably on a different team – is in town so he jumps in. And Jordan tries to get some reps in while his tendon screams please don’t tear me again. With all these issues and adjustments, Cronies are still a core of Daxxy, Oppen (his daughter waiting a few more days to be born – good kid), Zada and Storm. And that’s formidable any way you slice it. So they will always have a puncher’s chance. Brody – antics and call – can ball. And Yaron is always better when he’s not consumed by the prospects of what can go wrong. He always competes, but playing in a game he didn’t come into overthinking and conflicted by what result to the game would benefit him most personally, he played loose. He played chill. And it was great to see. He and Storm brought it back to the 193 days with two TD hookups. The game was close for most of it, but someone must have stuck the orange voodoo Ernie head onto a Justin Jefferson voodoo body. Listen, Ernie and I had our chat issues this week. I just don’t like a certain kind of BS. I think we cleared it up – more or less (Ernie in his mind: NEVER!), but let’s talk actual facts: Ernie is the best of us when it comes to caring about others and a generosity of spirit. The guy isn’t faking. He feels. He is sensitive to the traumas of this life – and that’s a hard thing to be. People like him either guard themselves from everything for fear of being mortally wounded by the tragic nature of life, OR they feel an achrayus (moral obligation) to make things better. Ernie always chooses the latter. So, let’s not break him, Jordan. Even though he broke my tendon in Week 4 and broke my team in Week 13. He made MK’s game across the gridiron look pedestrian. Pray to Ernie for 4 TDs (Go Smores!). Every time the Cronies carved out a path to victory, Ernie settled them down. Roadblocks established. He went full Gandolf. Thou shalt not pass! He added a pick to the flurry of scoring. Jewball to the lead singer of Weague Leek. The only other thing to say about this game is that DK apparently had the sexiest flag-pull hydroplane of all time. No Jewball for it, but…a bracha – DK, may them game always bring out of you that kind of youthful passion. Amen. 

A week later (WEEK 14)  the Lionhearts and Dawgs faced off in a game that surely felt like a must win for both. Mighty was out for the Dawgs and the younger Brody stepped in. Good fire that kids brings. But you know who brings the most fire to big games. The Wizard. On this very special episode of Jewball, Yaron and his Lionhearts visited Steveo Island – and the result was a nightmare for them. Like the torment of a recurring Bertfumble, over and again, Yaron flashed to his right when in the redzone and searched for points. Points that never came. Steveo had his wand at the ready and went Avada Kedavra on Yaron’s ass. While Yaron did find success moving the ball as he always does with Jack, and he even is establishing a Dachslike timing with Dax on the curls – he has lost his way when it comes to sealing the deal. Dachs had no problem sealing deals that day. On the very first snap, he launches a heatseeker to Brody up the gut of the field and Brody scores. It would be the only score the Dawgs would need. Steveo made sure of that. Sorting hat says Jewball to Steveo. Lionhearts now have the same record as Cobras. Crocs are trying to find their identity. Dawgs are digging themselves out of a hole. Cronies are trying to hold it together. And BOP just needs to keep their foot on the gas.

For the record, there was a game 2 played on Week 14, but it ended in a tie so I’ll just pretend it never happened. Weel 15 was washed out – hence my introduction about our being in the football diaspora.

All good exiles come to an end. And ours ends in but a few days. With sound and fury, it ends. It ends in the redemptive waters of Vets Rooks. The game that ties everything together.

I’ll end with this thought. A thought for Sunday. A thought for the future in general. As Jewballers, we care about the ties that bind. The ties being each other in the present. And our ties to the past and future of games. Games that are really stories. Players that are really brothers. But sometimes we forget to appreciate that we ourselves our bound by these ties. That we at first were roped in – perhaps by a twist of fate or pure dumb luck,  but now – by choice – we are strapped in – buckled up – always ready to ride. Holding on, tight.

Week 10 Recap

It’s a cliché, but Jewball has become the gift that keeps on giving. With every season, we add something new that immediately becomes an integral part of the tradition. As if we’ve always done it. As if the innovation had just been waiting for us to incorporate it into our ever expanding schedule. And so it has been with our Chanukah Party – now a mere three years old, but feeling like a well worn pair of jeans. Just comfortable and reliable and always a good look. Legs was just a precocious newbie when he stated with the authority of a Vet that Jewball shall have a Chanukah Party. And the wives shall be invited. So it shall be written. So it shall be done. Year one was a pool hall in Island Park. Year two was a brewery in Oceanside. Year Three was a music hall in West Hempstead. Three different flavors, but each one absolutely spot-on for the moment in time. My only regret is that not everyone could be at every one. But to those who came out, thank you. It’s a major source of a chizuk for me personally and for all those who appreciate the world we have built and continue to. Thank you to Legs once again for starting this up and buying us all drinks. To Rabin for sponsoring the games. To Yaron for handling the food (and to all those who sent him $). To Daveo, Steveo and Ice Man for the donuts (support Alans!). To the big O for thinking about our wives and getting them extremely thoughtful gifts. To Weague Leek (Kut, Ernie, Dax, Daveo, and Steveo) for entertaining the hell out of us. And most of all to DK for giving Ernie a permanent complex.
The party preceded Week 10, and although there wasn’t mass intoxication at the party, there seemed to be a group hangover Sunday morning by anyone playing against Yaron.
It was our second week in a row of pending rain storms. So cold and gloomy, but the Jewball gods once again kept the downpour in check so the games could be played.
Let’s start with the blow out loss. We can blame one of two things for such an uneven game – if we are looking for excuses. One is Brody’s big comeback was delayed at the last minute by none other than Brody. I believe he wholeheartedly intends to return, but I think I speak for all of us when I say – I’ll believe it when I see it. So Spira – a very good player – takes the place of Brody. The issue is just they are different kinds of players. It took a speed receiver away from Pray. The other excuse is Pray who was getting over a flu-like symptomy week. He just wasn’t himself. The other possibility – and it should not be brushed aside – is that Gronk is back to the dominant Gronk that beat up on every QB we threw at him. A week after leading a team that put up a whopping 8 scores, he leads a team that puts up….a whopping 8 scores. Although this will be remembered as the Tom game, where the big fella galloped his way to two awe-inspiring touchdowns, it’s really about what Gonk is doing right now. As Tom himself said later in the day while chasing his kids around Ohr Torah, “Gronk uses me.” And that’s what makes the Mat Stafford doppelganger so effective. He has gift for processing the field and finding the open man. He firmly believes that the open man gets the ball – no matter what the power rankings or the mock drafts say. Faith breeds confidence and confidence breeds catches. Well, Gronk ran away with this one. Literally. He ran, sashayed, shook, and shimmied for 3 scores himself while throwing 5 more to 3 different receivers. Pray could only put up half that many points in his diminished state. The Rat got his stats with a TD and a pick. Mike made a really sweet deep catch for a score, starting to show the skills that he’s been promoting on the chat. And the quiet hero of Jewball, Josh Scott Dobs, not only inflated the menorah, but inflated his stat line with 2 TDs. Although I’d love to give the Jewball to Tom because he’s a majestic beast of a man, it’s got to be Gronk for laying the smackdown two weeks in a row.
On the other side of the cones, Yaron was doing his best Gronk impression – he himself rushing for 3 TDs, but would it be enough? His opposing QB, the great recent girl dad Dachs, is known for putting up points and running up a score. But to do this, your receivers needs to catch the ball. And his have been suffering from a chronic case of the dropsies. A malady that plagued many of Yaron’s receivers in the past.
Now what if I told you that Yaron’s top receiver, Ice Man, would go down early with ankle, attempt to tough through it, but eventually limp off the field not to return. What if I told you that his replacement, Legs, would not show up until garbage time. What if I told you the Sheriff would score two for Yaron, but they would each be canceled by calls (Goldberg PI, and Beast that the line moved – poetic combo). What if I told you, two of Yaron’s players, Goldberg and Ross, would each have multiple easy almost picks which they bumbled. And then what if I told you Yaron won by 3 scores over Dachs, 5-2. It’s hard to say what was wrong with Dachs, but I guess I’ll just say Mazal Tov. He had a lot on his mind and his receivers were making his life miserable with some unforced errors. Either way, the W by Yaron was inexplicable. But that’s why we play the games. Two very hot QBs going head to head in Week 11 in a League Game (in less than 10 hours actually). Jewball to Yaron for winning this one with smoke, mirrors, scotch tape, and other scraps of the trash his game is made of.
The late game was better. While Pray’s fever had still not broken, at least this time Spira was actually supposed to be on his team. I have to admit, I spent most of the game talking life, hashkafa, and shidduchim with Irv, I was cognizant of the game for fleeting moments. One of them allowed me to witness a spectacular, stunning, and stupendous touch down pass from Pray to BK like Lock to Smith-Njigba. BK getting to the ball in full stride and hauling it in with his fingertips down the right sideline. At another instant of paying attention, I saw Legs looking more and more like the T-1000 version of Christian McCaffrey. But this terminator wears tiny pink shorts. Brad had 2 sacks, a TD, came early to help Jewball, and wore his shorts. I was going to give Yaron two Jewballs on the day, but he’ll gladly take his 2 wins and the momentum into tomorrow. Instead, it’lll go to Legs since TBI and the general consensus of Jewball is that Legs is the man right now. Or at least the cybernetic organism right now. Come with me if you want to win.

Week 5 – Recap


Much to recap. Since the surgery, it feels like I have a built-in excuse, and I guess I’ve been using it. And thank you for not getting on me too badly about it. But Jewball is about pushing through and putting aside the excuses. What our forefathers did is an exemplar to us descendants. Well, we are all the descendants of one Alan Milchman aka The Oracle of Jewball. The man who started it all. Who started a football game in Flushing Meadows Park, Queens thirty years ago. A game that was played in all weather with no excuses. Whether a two on two or a three on three. It wasn’t a game with tremendously skilled players – they weren’t. Or a game on a great field – it wasn’t. Or a game that was extremely popular. None of that. So why did it survive? How can we possibly explain the fact that Alan – whom I had never met before – came down with his daughter, Aliza, to watch 30 supremely talented Jewballers play our double header Turkey Bowl on a turf field over two decades after he handed the game to Rabin and hung up his cleats? Where he was recognized and welcomed as our founder? I actually think I know. I was telling some of the guys about the legend which Alan was able to confirm in person. When Jewball began, before Zada’s docs, and Whatsapp Ins, and email Ins, and phone calls, and simply showing up, there was The Oracle’s answering machine. Every Saturday night the tape started blank. And a player would call and say “Bradley in.” And Alan would re-record the tape to count Bradley and himself. And Mike would call and say “Mike In” and Alan would erase the tape and re-record to count Bradley, Alan, and Mike. And Rabin would call…Each player would then know how many were in and the hope was that eventually the count would reach 8, maybe 10 and there was enough for a decent game. I think about that answering machine. The hishtadlus that it represents. I think about all the other pick-up games of the time and of all time, and I cannot imagine that there was another Commissioner with that kind of dedication and vision. I picture him erasing the tape and re-recording each time, saying the names. I imagine Alan waiting for the phone to ring and being filled with hope and joy and possibility each time it was a Jewballer on the line saying In. What would have been a stupefying chore to others was an instinctual obligation to him. An obligation. A mitzvah. Taken upon himself with complete faith. What he was doing was exceptional. And maybe he didn’t know why at the time. But I believe that his extreme hishtadlus on those Saturday nights is what merited us our longevity and success. Without that answering machine, the game dies in utero. Rabin is never brought down. Spira is playing somewhere else. I never play the game at all. So, how could I not get to work on these recaps with that kind of inspiration staring me in the face…
eek 5 began with a premature League game to accommodate a former MVP’s return from the wilds of Florida. Prime was back in the fold under the wing of Pray’s Birds. But Prime was not the only MVP coming back to Jewball this season after an absence. The man named MVP and with the trophy to prove it is back from the wilds of Illinois and returns to lead his Crocs in a League campaign. It was Crocs v. BOP to kick off the 2023 League Season. A week after losing both the field and my bicep tendon mid-game, we were blessed to have WMS all to ourselves and the sun was shining. It turned out to be a great day for Jewball.
In the first hour of the game, though I was at Hewlett scoping the field just in case, Yaron was reporting that BOP v. Crocs was shaping up to be a brilliant show. Early on it featured a deep reception by Dobs and a Dobs TD, as well as a mind-bending one handed catch by Zinn. Crocs had the lead and were competing. But of course I show up and Crocs went the way of all my teams. Underdogs can’t win when I’m around. And so Pray began throwing TDs to everyone not named Prime and Snow began throwing passes to everyone not on the Crocs and after 5 picks by BOP and 5 TDs thrown by Pray, the game was out of hand. Snow and the Crocs have a ton of talent and are expected to compete, but they start the League Season 0-1. BOP begin 1-0 and the Jewball goes to Pray for the 5 TDs thrown, plus his 3 picks (2 of which he ran back for scores).
The 945 Games that followed the League Game were not short on epic storylines themselves. Returning from the wilds of Ramat Bet Shemesh, Zez mad his annual return to Jewball – always straight from the airport. I will always maintain that our greatest virtue is that we are always a home for our Vets. If you give enough to this game, and earn Vet status, we will always welcome you back as a conquering hero. No matter how long. No matter how far. And Zez is a Jewball hero and a real life hero. An absolute honor and privilege to have our gunslinger back on the field and firing.
And firing he did. His first TD was a classic Zez rushing TD from the QB slot and his second TD was bullet to Legs in the back in the endzone. The returning warrior was poised to get the W and the Jewball. But (and I feel like I’ve written this a few times already) tis’ the season of Mighty and the Vet goes off for 2 scores in regulation and the score is tied. Zez could have won it in regulation but Logan dropped a sure TD. After Mighty went for hat trick and gave Yaron the lead in OT, it was Zezzy with a drive to at least end in a tie, but his team betrayed him again. Beast couldn’t haul one in that may have gone for a TD, and Zez leaves with nothing but an immeasurable store of love, respect, and admiration – and while Zez is always intent in the W, I have feeling what we provided will do. Jewball to Mighty for all the points (plus a pick).
On the other side of the field was Perla v. Pray in a game where the Randomizer tried to make it hard on Pray. Though he had the number 1 draft pick in Zinn and a cavalcade of Jewball stars, Perla was given Kut, BK, Storm, Dax, Daxxy, Tom and Dobs. As formidable a team as ever assembled. I got into it a little bit with Perla from the sideline when I though the offense was stalling. Here’s my take. No one should be embarrassed on the field. At the same time, no one should be immune from being embarrassed on the field. It’s kind of what we do. Just ask the longest tenured Jewballer, Dr. Duckball Assman. Maybe then….I need to be more careful about the level of it and to who. Regardless, I apologized to White and he has to know it comes from only one place: I want him to be great. I want him to kick Pray’s ass. And Yaron’s ass. And especially Dachs’ ass. I’m an underdog guy. My favorite team this season not named Cronies is of course Purple Cobras. I love a great story. At the same time, we here at Jewball need competitive, quality, fun football – week in and out. And when it comes to QBS, if X isn’t going to do it, Y will. Pray ended up winning the game. Perlas was down 5-2 and mounted a heroic comeback, but dropped the contest 5-4. Perla holds the ball too long, but we still need to recognize the line play of Spira and Salem, going for 8 sacks in total (4 apiece). Jewballs to that dynamic duo.
Week 6 and Turkey Bowl….(and I guess Week 7) to follow….onward! No excuses!