Although one particular route has always been at our quarterbacks’ disposal, it was never consistently used (and certainly not executed to such exquisite perfection) – until this season. It took brothers – Dachs to Dax – to show us the full potential and devastating effectiveness of the comeback route. To work, the maneuver mandates a lot of things go right. It requires a sequence of conditions met relating to speed and distance and timing. More than any of that – it requires faith. That the receiver stops at the agreed upon moment and deceptively returns to a previously tread spot. That the QB will release the ball at the split second his target slams the breaks so the defender is unable to react. Perhaps this unquantifiable element of faith (above all the technical criteria) is why it remains an unpopular play call. But – as we saw – when handled properly and with precision, it is nearly unstoppable.

Jewball, I’m done talking about our miracles and magic with a golly-gee naivete. Yes, we are supremely blessed and over the past five years built an absolute behemoth. Yes, it was built on the backs of dedicated Vets and Dark Age Rookies who loved Jewball even when we had far less (or even nothing) to love. It was built particularly on the wings of Yaron, our guardian angel of the Revolution. But we’ve graduated from being dumbstruck by the phenomenon. It happened. No question we capitalized on it. We stared our good fortune in the face and boldly declared that fate could do even better. And even better then. So here we are. Enlightened AF. A bunch of lucky bastards with a fierce, greedy conviction to keep our luck going. We’ve freed ourselves up to talk about something else.

As I pondered this past season and made my notes – a recurring theme became impossible to ignore. In the midst of our overwhelming success and spoils accrued on a global level, there were too many stories of individual struggles and hardship. Too damn many.

I know he will be uncomfortable that I’m talking about this first, but how could I not? PJs literally left his last game of last season in an ambulance after getting knocked unconscious. Did we laugh about it? Of course! But, I mean, it’s not a joke. Everything about his well-being and future was at risk. He was said to be done for good (take note, Singer). Doctors’ orders. Wife’s orders. How could he dare continue to play football (and do all the other incredible things he does for us) when the stakes were so high? The answer: I don’t know how he dared. I just know he did. I know he came back.

I know he will hate that I’m talking about him at all (and the cold sweat breaks out as I type), but if this isn’t a safe space then I’m doing that thing in Donnie Brasco where Al Pacino holds a gun to his head in the car. Gronk had about as bad an off-season as someone could have. Fact. He’s our Jewball brother. Fact. Deal with those two converging facts however you like. But I know that we needed (and will need) him – and vice versa. And I know we can hold our heads up high on judgment day. But, for him, being truly in the depths of (and he will admit it, self-inflicted) hell: How could he show up on Sundays, look us in the eyes, and manage his trademark smirk? The answer is I don’t know how he found the courage. But I know he found it. I know he came back.

If I have the time as this polemic unspools, I will get to our injured players who returned against all odds. I can get to Spira who returned against all logic and precedent. But you see the direction I am heading in to establish this year’s unifying epicenter: 2022-2023 was – more than anything else – more than the year of the Rookie takeover (but, we will most assuredly get to that – as it factors in with serendipitous exactitude) – this was the Year of the Comeback.

We needed a comeback almost immediately. With last year’s League Champion quarterback being MIA, we were in full scouting mode. You ask me if I remember the QB who beat our team last year at Greis, relishing every second of the beatdown, yelling Let’s Fucking Gooooo with an obnoxious finger pointed in the air as he chased down the receiver who just caught a bomb TD? Yeah, I can picture him. He was the enemy. He was not a Jewballer. He was pure Croton. The anti-Jewballer. But we needed a QB and Yaron thought we could get him and his talented brother. Yaron targeted a bunch of guys as Daveo targets everyone. I was (and still am) cautious. My job is to protect Jewball for the Jewballers. To keep it closeknit and grounded. Yaron and Daveo one thousand percent would never do anything to hurt Jewball consciously, but I do know they see (or saw) it’s future differently than I did.

So it turned out the diminutive assassin who radiates competitiveness had a name – Sruli Dachs. The brother was Mordy. I was told things about them by the always optimistic Yaron – that their joining us was possible – but I would believe it when it happened. I also didn’t know if I wanted it to happen. That’s the thing about rookies. Bringing them in is scary. It feels like messing with perfection. More than that – it always feels like jeopardizing perfection.

I saw Mordy – who seemed a lot more human/personable than his bro – at a volleyball game. Turned out he knew Zez and was the son in law of Jonas, who I’d been playing volleyball with for five years. Good signs. I saw Mordy again at softball and Pray was there and we brought up Jewball and his brother. This is where I learned about the infamous Yaron messages to Sruli. Two thousand words explaining that Jewball is not a cult. Mordy – with his surfer bro laugh and smile – assured me that Sruli was out (and disturbed) and that Mordy might check us out (which sounded like him just being polite). If you would have asked me to bet money at that moment whether Sruli would be rocking an I LOVE JEWBALL sweatshirt on Chanukah, drinking a l’chaim with me and Mordy in my house on Purim, then dancing with us in Daveo’s dungeon, and finally winning both Vets Rooks for the Rooks and a Jewball League Championship – I’d probably be broke right now. I would have bet every dime I had against that. As would any of you.
I’m not going to go through every rookie storyline. I will say I was hesitant about each one except Stats since I knew he was Jewball material. The second you meet Oppen, it’s game over. You’re melted. Even if he wasn’t a remarkable talent, the positive energy alone makes him a keeper.

Now, to be Rookie of the Year, in this class – how special do you have to be? Think about it. I mean….think about who came in….and then think about what it would take to be undisputed Rookie of the Year.

And I’ll tell you why it’s Zinn. Because it has nothing to do with football. He’s a mesmerizing athlete. That is not up for debate. You watch him in any game he plays and he will do one or two things that prove his talent massive. But, for me, I’m more impressed by his showing up to Munch’s house before the draft. I’m more impressed that he craves football and wants to wring every drop of it from our offerings. I’m more impressed that he was at Theo’s bris. I’m more impressed that he looks to organize and steps up to lead. I’m more impressed that he doesn’t complain when I randomized the hell out of him in the early going so his wins and good targets were few. That he plays in Bowl Games with the same vigor that he does regular weeks and league weeks. That he scoots to the game after minyan. He is our Rookie of the Year because he gets what we are trying to do here beyond football – and if he doesn’t fully get it (at 20/21 years old!), he fully ventures to get it. That – plus all the talent and competitive spirit in the world – is what makes Zinn the spotlight player of – and it’s not even remotely a question – the greatest infusion of rookie talent our almost 30 year game has even known.

“We’re born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we’re not alone.”

The above is a quote from Orson Welles, who was a genius, but potentially insane as well. It’s a cynical take on existence. I don’t buy into it, but we have to admit that in many ways – although we are together with others – as we are currently “together” reading this – we are trapped in a fortress of solitude.
I bring it up because when I think about the comebacks that manifested over the course of this past season, though I take pride in the love and friendship that motivated them, I also realize that comebacks are very much a personal and lonely road.

I think about Irv and his accursed nagging back. I think about Waldo in agony rehabbing his broken collarbone. I think about Singer and his season from hell. And of course I think about Pray being wheeled to shul on Yom Kippur.

These are just a few examples of physical injuries and the aloneness they surely engendered within the player. I think of other Jewballers as well going through difficulties in life – God should bless us all. And there is no question that a comeback demands an internal fortitude and mental toughness that relies entirely on the individual. Where I would argue with Welles is that love and friendship is a mere illusion.

When Dax runs his route hard down the sideline, he does so alone. It is him pushing himself using only his brain, heart, lungs, and muscle. But the instant he turns to come back, it becomes a mutual endeavor. He relies on his brother to be there for him. To convert faith into real world action. To deliver on the promise and potential of that faith. To supplant the illusion of his going it alone with a predestined team effort.

That’s a comeback route in football. A comeback in life (as in Jewball) is equally a team effort. It requires many things from the collective, but among them are patience, compassion, and sympathy. Sometimes forgiveness. Both parties must be willing to see beyond the temporary “reality” and take the long view. To maintain perspective. The Year of the Comeback is the year where we proved that love and friendship is no illusion.

A comeback also needs inspiration. Some light at the end of the tunnel to make the fight worth fighting. To get one through those bleak moments of isolation.

It is no coincidence that the Year of the Comeback coincided with the year of birth and rebirth. The year of youthful exuberance on the field and the year of flourishing families off it. When perhaps many of us were this close to giving in to the weakness, we couldn’t help but see the teeming, thriving life pouring in from Jewball – and it acted the Muse. It carried us back like a providential current.

I needed a comeback. I needed your patience, sympathy and forgiveness. As beautiful as Draft Night was, it was marred by poor decisions that fall on me. It tainted the entire season. I imagine at some point we overcame and replaced the bad Draft Night vibes, but that was a team effort.

I don’t want to get too sentimental here, but – when you get older you get to observe life more often than participate in it. And I observed that we are all trying to overcome something. Some more obvious than others – but I see in many ways we are each constantly in the middle of a Jewball comeback. For me it is age, but for others it might be an awkwardness or emptiness. A trauma, a loss, a troubled relationship, youth, or mistakes made and regretted. Many of us arrive here as damaged goods to no fault of our own. This reminds of an unforgettable and cherished conversation I had with PJs on a windy night coming home from Vegh’s shalom zachor.

Sometimes life feels like a Bowl Game. It just keeps going and going and you have all the time in the world to figure your shit out. And just like that it can become TNF where half time came and went in a flash and Dom is yelling, “2 minutes! Clock is running!”

I want us to always be a place for great football. I’m so proud of our being right now a place for great football. I’m even more proud of our being a place for great stories. For great redemption. For great second and third and fourth chances. For resilient comebacks.

Let’s talk about some of these stories and some of these comebacks. As they are the building blocks of this season.

At the 2021 Draft Party, a kid showed up who seemed to place himself in constant shadow. He was there of his own free will so there was no doubting his choice to be present. Yet he seemed at the same time as if trying to fold himself into nothingness. To disappear. I say this not to embarrass The Rook, but to cite him as the ultimate example of someone who had blind faith in us – who we had blind faith in – and – how did that turn out? He is our brother for life. He is my brother for life. And he’s one hell of a football player. After coming out of his shell/car seat last season and only showing flashes of brilliance, his 2022 season cemented him as top of the draft talent. The Rook is on The Rise. Special shout out to Beast and the X-Factor.

I don’t know Perla well yet. He’s guarded. All good. Respect that. I do know he was out of the game for a while. I know Yaron kept tabs on him as a possible QB for us. I know he reached out to give us a try and of course we said yes. There is no greater commodity in Jewball than a competitive QB. He came down in his parka with the hood up, the wristband and stuck in his ways. He came down with whatever baggage he carried, like we all do, but without being open yet to us carrying any of it for him – with him. So it felt like a challenge. Perhaps not the best fit. But then he went on TBI. An act of faith. And so began the comeback. So began the legend. Culminating in perhaps the most joyous moment of the Jewball season. Perla, wrapped in a White Goodman cape, pumping his fist, which clenched a purple -shirt, as the crowd chanted “SAY-LEM! SAY-LEM! SAY-LEM!” Right there – a snapshot of what separates us. A room of men and women proving Welles got it wrong.

I’ve told the story in a prior recap, but just so it gets the bold and underlined treatment – Spira’s comeback to Jewball is a wonderment of biblical proportions. It’s incomprehensible. And yet….it’s just one of our many incomprehensible comebacks. Let that sink in. I’m not going to say Jewball is a place where miracles happen, but – I will say – that Jewball is a place where some miracles have happened. And speaking of miracles….

Pray won MVP two seasons ago and the sentiment that I come back to often with him from that Season Recap is that if the Vets commissioned a team of geneticists to create the perfect Jewball Rookie in a lab – so as to assure us a future of success and longevity – the result would be Pray. What is the man lacking in? When I think of one incredible quality as being his premiere endearing feature, it is immediately replaced by another. Generosity. Kindness. Passion. Leadership. Competitiveness. Wisdom. Humility. See what I mean? Everyone is nodding their heads. Because it does keep going. We knew all these things about Pray before this season and took them for granted. What we did not know about him was that he was superhuman. What no one could know was how he would respond to extreme physical adversity. We had no stick with which to measure his capacity to come back.

I don’t need to remind you of his grueling journey from surgery through the League Championship Game. A game in which he threw a TD to Goldberg, who was mounting a comeback of his own. We can all picture Pray on the sidelines in his cast, and boot, and brace, and whatever other contraptions he needed to wear as he spectated with envy. The man always came out. Always made sure to bring to Jewball whatever he could – even if it was not on the field of play. He brings dignity, gravitas, and a magnetic aura wherever he goes. And if that was all he could contribute to Jewball this season – it would have sucked for him and us – but it would have been enough. It would have been the best he could do and much appreciated.

What we learned about Pray this past season is that there is depth to him that no one can possibly fathom. You don’t come back from his injury in the same season and perform at the level he performed at unless you have the filthiest of determinations. Essentially, Pray, you are on the inside someone the rest of us mere mortals cannot fully understand.

In the year of one fantastical comeback story after another, Pray won Comeback Player of the Year. And, yet, he was not our best comeback story.

Our best comeback story belongs to our 2022-2023 Jewball MVP.
There’s a place in the world for the angry young man
With his working class ties and his radical plans
He refuses to bend
He refuses to crawl
He’s always at home with his back to the wall
And he’s proud of his scars and the battles he’s lost
And he struggles and bleeds as he hangs on the cross
And he likes to be known as the angry young man
Billy Joel wrote these lyrics even before I was born, so surely before Storm was born. But there is a certain type, and the great songwriter nailed it. He goes on:
Give a moment or two to the angry young man
With his foot in his mouth and his heart in his hand
He’s been stabbed in the back
He’s been misunderstood
It’s a comfort to know his intentions are good
And he sits in a room with a lock on the door
With his maps and his medals laid out on the floor
And he likes to be known as the angry young man
As distressed as I was on draft night, Storm was fuming. My Assmen teammate saw every selection prior to his as disrespect – and there were five infuriating rounds of disrespect. Storm came to us four seasons ago mid-season. An angry young man. It was a very memorable game at Woodmere Middle School where he battled with Mighty, maybe almost got into fight, roared after he made a reception, and maintained an audible inner-dialogue the entire time. Yaron called him John. I called him Storm because you couldn’t watch him on the field and not perceive the bolts of lightning or hear the thunder rumbling just below his surface. After the bunch of games he played that season, it was hard to tell if Jewball and Storm would forever clash or find common ground.

One thing that became eminently apparent about Storm was the brilliance of his game. The other thing was his style. He is someone who could show up to game and takeover, but – whether he played well or played in a fog – he made sure he had the right gear, the right cleats, the right attitude. There is a reason he is Kill’s favorite player. His bravado never feels arrogant, though. It’s a personal reflection. It’s often as if he is celebrating his accomplishments to prove something only to himself and we just happen to be witnesses. Whether it be “Stat! Count It,” “Why don’t you come over for dinner,” or “Mama Storm didn’t raise no bitch,” his lines are instant classics. And not because he is trying to make anything happen. He’s a natural showman. He is as real as they come. His realness flows from him in every interaction. On the sidelines, he’s the best guy you will ever meet and it’s all love and laughs. In the game, he’s going to another place. A place where he doesn’t know any of us. A place where there are his teammates and those trying to stop his teammates and him from winning. And the latter must be dealt with accordingly. He plays like football is the word of God. Like nothing matters more. It’s a level that very few of us are even capable of conceptualizing. His devotion to the craft of football – it doesn’t get higher in our group.
The problem for Storm has been that he was never able to fully put all that brilliance and style and passion on display. We saw it in bursts. We knew it was in there. But it never came together in a stream of sustained excellence – until this season. From wire to wire he brought his signature fire and intensity and did not relent. Zinn came in set to torch the record books and Storm stuck with him stride for stride. And while Zinn had an MVP caliber season in terms of pure numbers, he will have to settle for being the latest golden child of Jewball. This is the Year of the Comeback and to be Jewball Season MVP, you have had to have gone through the ringer.

Listen, I don’t know everything Storm has been through. What he’s had to overcome. I’m not going to pretend I do. But I know he has had his struggles and hardships. More than his fair share. And instead of wallowing in them or giving in to them – he suffused them into his spectacular performances on Sunday mornings. No one does more with a chip on his shoulder. No one here is real enough to convert that chip into an actual tactical advantage. We say it. He does it. He did it. Because of Draft Night, the comeback was on. He brought a razor-blade-sharp edginess to the field every week. But – somehow – and this is Storm’s distinction – he plays ice cold, but it’s the farthest thing from who he is. He’s all heart. A tough exterior masking a vulnerable soul. Storm, you are our 2022 Season MVP because you brought a passion for football to Jewball that we had not previously known. You put your faith in us to give you the quality of football that you demanded of yourself. You showed us that before we worry about the expectations of others, we need to set the highest bar for the expectations we have of ourselves. It was always clear to us the level of game you expected of yourself – and this past season – you finally showed everyone what you are capable of. And I’m sure you are still hungry. I’m sure the chip is still on your shoulder as you prepare for Draft Night 2023.

And speaking of Draft Night 2023, let us count the comeback stories waiting to be written. Beast, Feit, Goldberg, Irv, Singer, Rabin, Snow, Maor, Daveo, Sting, to name just a few. Like I said, we are all in the middle of our own personal comeback. Just gotta dig deep and write it. But….like I also said….it’s a team effort. And Jewball is here for you.

We are a place where miracles have happened. Believe that. You’ve seen it. You don’t need to talk about it or promote it. Just acknowledge it and be grateful.

It used to break my heart to write this last paragraph of the Season Recap. There was such a finality to it. I sometimes cried because it was like a moment of mourning. A gaping hole in my life was about to open and be filled by nothing. Those days are no more. In the Age of the Enlightenment, the good times keep going. The family sticks together in some form or another through the off season. I think we have a game Tuesday night. If I’m overloaded with emotion right now, it’s just because there is good reason to be overloaded with emotion. But the emotion is not sadness at all. It’s pure unfiltered awe. That I get to be the Commissioner of Jewball now for 18 years. To tie up my cleats with you all on Sunday mornings. To share in your simchas. I don’t know….It makes no sense. Guys, I’m just very thankful. I am under no delusions, here. Jewball accentuates and improves every aspect of our lives and I know my role and task is to keep it going and keep us together. I’m on it.

With that, you know the drill. Kick your own ass over the next six months. Set high expectations for yourself and – whether it’s on a journey of self-motivation or through the comradery of Jewball – come back next season better. Come back stronger. Come back quicker. Come back leaner. But – above all – just make sure to come back 😊

If it wasn’t for the fog of sickness which unexpectedly descended onto my week, this recap would have been posted asap. Because my team won and I played well. Those are the recaps that you can’t wait to get out there. And it’s actually not fair to some great players from Week 9 that I will discuss that I’m sneaking this in late on a Saturday night on the eve of a League Week. Moreover, I don’t think TBI made a big enough deal of the the storylines I will get to. Though I did watch TBI in prime fever dream sweat storm so I could have missed a lot. I mean….was I hallucinating or was Vegh the guest?
Week 9 was not exactly Red Sunday but I think it’s safe
to say at this point that the correlation between League games and injuries is no coincidence. No, I’m not saying Leagues are a mess….and I’ll be straight….the chorus of “Leagues are a mess” is so tired and lame and not true – and if you are part of that chorus….check yourself. Maybe the mess is not Leagues. Leagues are great. I’m extremely proud of last week and extremely excited for tomorrow.
First things first, I’m proud of the battles. I’m proud that my QB, Yehuda Feit, had a game he needed to have. He lead his team. He found his receivers. He spread the ball. He was poised. He was accurate. He put up points. He helped us win. I’m proud of Yaron who – we will get to the game – mounted a furious comeback that truly could have imploded the Top Guns if it had fully succeeded. I’m proud of the dudes who got hurt and played hurt like Singer, and Zada, and Storm. Guys who bleed for their teams and face the “realities” of going home with injuries and paying the price all week – only so that they can come back and risk it all again. For what? For the the goddam glory, that’s what! For Jewball. For themselves. Because everyone else walking into #!%n Gourmet Glatt without a limp or stiff back or a throbbing wrist has no clue. Not a f***n clue. So I’m proud to be on this side of the equation.
Of course the king of Week 9 was Pray. We will get to him shortly, but it’s late and I don’t want to forget the essence of why Week 9 mattered. Hopefully I don’t lose patience with this recap and call it a day. The Benjys pizza might keep me up a while.
Game 1 was Leagues, making up for the Week 7 League game between Top Guns and Lionhearts which was canceled when LH suffered every curse in the tochecha at the same time.
Yaron’s squad was still banged up and the LH had to go up against a (more or less) full strength TG. I’ve already spoiled the result. TG did what they were allegedly supposed to do on Draft Night. That’s win. But it wasn’t as easy as it should have been. Once Singer went down with an ankle in a scary scene that thankfully looks like a week to week instead of a season ender – things got a little too interesting. Feit had a ton of completions and scored twice early with Jack. Munch and Dobs kept Yaron in check, but Sting had a rough day letting multiple passes slip through his usually reliable hands. Even with all that, Storm had 2 late TDs and all of a sudden Yaron was driving to win the game. It was a terrifying moment for TG, but the result was a stalled drive..Jewball to Munch and Dobs for being the difference in the end.
Game 2s were compromised by the injuries from Game 1. For Dachs’ team, Zada and Storm became Jordan and Rabin and it was enough to make Pray have a very successful return to Jewball. So let’s talk about Pray for a second. As the guy says in every mussar schmooze…….I’m saying this for me. The week before Sukkos we hear Pray got hurt. Maybe playing football. Maybe building a sukkah. Maybe rescuing Logan and PJs from a fire in Daveo’s basement. No one is sure. How hurt? He’s done for the season. Major tear. He’s spending Yom Kippur in a wheelchair. Surgery to follow. Rehab. Maybe we see him February. Maybe. This is all real and possible. It’s a major blow to our season. We see the ramifications right away. Game quality struggles. Moral struggles. Leagues are mess (just kidding!). Much thanks to Perla for being sent by God to give us a fighting chance in the interim. We were not able to see Pray at QB and we didn’t know when we would see him again.
Here is what we did see. A smile always on his face. A constant positive demeanor. An unbreakable optimism. A relentless drive to be back on the field. A commitment to US. Did he miss a single game? Did he miss a single moment? Did he not film. And cheer. And support? And just allow us to feed off his Prayness so we don’t lose his QB skills AND him! Sure, he may have been there for himself…but tell me every game wasn’t better and didn’t feel more right because he was on the sidelines. Hobbling at first….but then walking…then walking and throwing…and finally on Thanksgiving….playing the game. And then in Week 9 – against all odds – playing Jewball….getting stats, getting a W, and of course getting a Jewball. Guys, everything Pray did since the moment of his injury is textbook role model heroics. He would not be denied. Pray, may you continue to heal and come back better than before. May this injury be the last of your career. May you continue to be an influence on all of us where we can strive to come close to the dedication and loyalty and commitment to our game and family that you showed over the past few months. Prime, I think we all finally get it. : )

Just to give the new Power Ranking leader some credit…..Pray wins on the back of Zinn who put up two scores. The second of which was completely on me. No mercy tomorrow. Want to thank the new blood that came down – they aren’t on the chat, but they definitely shared our vibe – so thank you to whoever brought them.

Game 2 Game 2 was Perla v Yaron and it ended in a tie. It’s almost as if it never happened.

There is no quicker Recap drafted than after a tough loss where the Recap writer embarrassed himself. I’m lucky I get this form of catharsis. Write it up, get it out, turn the page. As a player, yesterday was a day I would like to forget. A humiliating costly drop being only the epitome of a rough day for my new team. We have what to fix. I’ll get to that more objectively in the recap of games below – and I’m sure TBI will give the topic a reasoned and thoughtful analysis. But, for this intro – I’ll speak as a Commissioner. For those who are new….The whole “In J We Trust” shtick is of recent vintage. Was made up a few years ago. I don’t know why. I believe it started when I said something stupid that made no sense. Or maybe when I said let’s try Lawrence High School and no one was there. Whatever the case, it’s not some ancient Jewball mantra. It’s just a shtick for the past few years. 95% sure it means the complete opposite of what it states. May it soon be buried and forgotten.
You absolutely don’t need to trust me. Or blindly listen to me. Or even respect me. I think you see that lack of trust, adherence, and respect on a weekly basis. And that’s fine. I’m always gonna be a Jewballer first. A commissioner is a necessary evil. At the same time, I’m trying to do right by….everyone. Literally, everyone. Of course we all are charmed by talent. Who wouldn’t want to keep a great player in the fold? But I would as soon tell a great player to F off as a weak one. I don’t care if you are rich or poor. Moving to North Woodmere or escaping it. I don’t care if you are a rabbi, or a monk, or get wasted every night. I just want good football. I have known and believed that good football is the only way to sustain Jewball. You can talk about the events and the feel-good stuff all you want. It’s important. It’s nice. But it’s emptiness if not backed by athletes committed to excelling at the game itself. The Dark Ages happened because our football got weak. It is my job primarily to make sure we have high quality football and only after that to keep everyone connected and happy and feeling good vibes.
And that’s not easy. Jewball is thriving today – not because of me – but because of mazal. Dumb luck that occurred here and there over the years. At every turn when the light might otherwise fade, a spark jumped from the dying embers and burned just long enough to ignite a torch and then the next torch, which would be carried by a future era of Jewball. And here we are – a blazing inferno. As massive a conflagration as we have ever seen. And it’s not perfect. But it’s undeniably and awesomely bright.
Why am I saying this? Because of Leagues. The very valid argument which is not lost on me is….This isn’t Jewball. Well, let me drop some enlightenment in our age of Enlightenment. Jewball has a vaguely construed definition. When we went from touch to flag, I was told that it’s not Jewball. Or from grass to turf. Or from one first down at the 50, to 2 first downs, then 3. I know what we are at our core. I know we are a tribe that shows up for the love of the game. There is no financial benefit or fame. There is a comradery, for sure, but so much of the journey is personal. It’s you getting out of bed when it’s cold and creeping out of the house in the dark holding cleats. It’s you in the gym, putting in the work, not wanting to let your team down on Sunday. It’s you running back to the toilet for the 3rd time and deciding whether to message the chat that you might be late. It’s you, coming home hurt and explaining to family and co-workers that you got injured playing football. And them wonder if you are twelve. Guys, we take real risks. We take real risks….for real rewards. That’s right. Real rewards. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Leagues is our best football. And if the aim of Jewball is to have great football, then Leagues has to be right. It fulfills the criteria of my Objective 1 beyond any doubt. It struggles somewhat with Objective 2. For now. For that, I can only apologize (again) and say….hang in there. We are going to get this even more right this year, and surely next.
Damn. Top Guns. Damn. My team came off the draft night with all the headlines and hype. The construction of a team featuring Mighty, Singer, Jack, and Munch proved that the draft order was flawed! I looked like a Draft snake by not conducting a snake draft. But Prime said it early and often – The games are played on the field. Chats, like the media, like commissioners, are a necessary evil. They serve a purpose, but the beauty of sports and our game of course….is…….you got to earn it. No one is crowned on draft night. Seasons are long. Plot twists proliferate. And expectations are havel havelim.
Top Guns sure looked good out the gate. First play of the season, Munch breaks free from the TE position and gets deep into the secondary. Feit unloads as perfect a pass as you will see, and Munch keeps the focus and makes a nice catch in full stride – TG is up 1 very quickly. Jack cashes in with an extra point and things just look very easy and breezy for Feit and company. The TG defense also came in as advertised. With Gronk in for Pray, BOP had a different look. A less mobile QB for sure. A QB who doesn’t kill you with the big play. But, man….Gronk….he can break you down like no one else. He moved the ball on TG but his first drive did not result in a score. Feit, on the other hand, looked unstoppable with his new arsenal of toys. Another deep ball for another score, this time to Jack. Although the extra point was not successful, TG was up 13-0 within the first 25 minutes of the game. It looked like a blow out in the making. What happened next was TG failed to score again for the rest of the game. What happened next was Gronk put up 4 scores. How? Why? Because these are some damn good teams. And these are some serious competitors. I can break down the plays and explain that if Jordan didn’t drop a TD, or Jack embraced contact a bit more, or Singer wasn’t hurt, or Munch wasn’t hurt, or Feit wasn’t at corner….sure…I could do that, but I’ll make it about two things: 1.) BOP wanted it more. It’s a cliché. Maybe some of you are rolling your eyes. But, if you don’t think a mental edge matters, in EVERYTHING – and certainly sports – good luck succeeding in life. TG came in expecting to win. That’s not the same as wanting to win. Top Gun is a quiet, introspective, somewhat aloof, somewhat cerebral, professional, veteran team. That will win you games. BOP were a bunch of hungry wolves let out the cage. And that can make up for a lot. 2.) Gronk also makes up for a lot. I’ve seen him to do it nearly every time he plays. Same play. Same play. Same play. We made it a joke, but it’s genius. It translates as…..I see the weakness in their defense….so why would I do anything else ever but exploit that weakness every single time. If the other teams adjusts, I’ll find the new weakness and exploit that. Did you watch PJ’s stream of that game? Gronk throws to anyone that is open. Every player is part of the offense. Tabak, Goldberg, Steveo, Prime, Solo…all making big plays. Impressive win, BOP. Jewball has to go to Gronk. He took his team back from the brink. TG is too talented a team to go the way of FCFT of last year, but they need to become a team. The two teams that won yesterday were the two that were most cohesive and most passionate about winning and winning together.
Although I did not stay until the very end of Game 2 – Lionhearts v. Roll Tide – I saw enough to know that it was the most well executed Jewball game I have ever seen. I’m not saying it was the best game, although it was an excellent watch. I wish I was less depressed and took out my phone to record. I know we pat ourselves on the back for having “stacked” games, loaded with talent – and we do and have….but to see it actually come together and the talent to shine under a spotlight…was remarkable. Let’s start with Yaron. Holy Trashbags! I mean, it’s safe to say he will completely fall apart when it matters most at the end of the season, but the guy was MASTERFUL yesterday. His offense being run was really like watching Lincoln Center choreography unfold under fireworks. Grace and speed and agility, blended and unified and synergized. Oh…and hard hitting…and brutal….and fu**ing vicious. Zada said to me before the game, “You talk about killers….watch these guys….” I said, “For real?” He just smiled. Lionhearts were worked up into a frenzy. I don’t know what kind of leadership that took. Or whether each players is self-motivated. Or whether Yaron injected them all with Monster Energy in the parking lot. I can go down the list. Zada, we know is a Beast. Beast is literally named Beast. Sting is a baaaaaad man. Irv is like a ballet dancer mack truck. DK and O were the hounds of hell. And Storm…..Storm was Flame On wire to wire with a some God of Thunder mixed in. If these guys can maintain that energy throughout the season, they are gonna be the team to beat. Of course, that’s the whole trick. Yankees, Mets, Dodgers, Braves….all bounced early from MLB playoffs. The lesson is obvious. It’s not who is the hottest for the longest, but who is there at the end. For our Leagues, it remains to be seen. Roll Tide got beat by a nearly flawless LH performance, but just barely. They were down 2 scores when I left, but they came back. They lost by 1 in the end. I mean, I’ve gone on and on about how dominant LH looked, but RT is scary as bricks. I talked before about the value of cohesion. These guys are coming in pre-assembled. Dachs, Dax, Zinn, Oppen…they’ve played together. Stats is on the way. Legs will be back and he can mesh with anyone as long as they allow him freedom to run recklessly into the fray. Dachs has also very quickly found a chemistry with Waldo, Whiskey, and Rook. As I’m writing this, I’m reminded of so many phenomenal throws and catches between the QBs in Game 2 and their receivers. Truly an electric game. Yaron, I’ve never seen you better, but Jewball to Sting. The grit and heart to come back from injury. To come back from being more forgotten than Salem. To come back from a game that hardly knew you and had no reason to believe in you – and show that you are as money as they come. That you want make an impact here, with us. I don’t know how many TDs you scored or if you scored any, but I saw some catches that were knock outs, man. Welcome back with a vengeance. Honorable mention to Storm. He definitely put up some points, but he can sleep well at night counting his stats.
I know not everyone is included in League Games, but the best of us – the real ones, as they say, get it. That great football is what makes Jewball go. And if you appreciate good football and love Jewball, you will support Leagues, even if it is forcing you to swallow some pride along with a bitter pill. To that end, PJs, Klink, E, and Daveo….you guys coming out to be a part of it – you are the real Jewballers. You have every right (and obligation!) to criticize me and call me out – but you guys showed up. And that’s why Jewball works and will survive. It’s not from the super talented guys who can leap in the air and spin and catch with one hand and land and race for TDs that Jewball is sustained. You never know. Someone like that can be here today and gone tomorrow. It’s from the guys that appreciate what we are and what we are trying to build. If they are super talented, all the better. But those types of Jewballers are the sparks that scream out of the fire. That’s how our torches are lit. That’s who carries them into our glowing future.