erod
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Nary an "Omaha" all night. Spared, we were, from the pointing and pirouetting before every snap. Not a single aw-shucks high five from His GOATness. Peyton barely uttered a word, to anyone.
What a yummy surprise that was.
We were treated to double-dumbface, Eli up high and Peyton slumped over, neither with a clue or a hope of what to do. The anointed Mannings managed a single meaningless touchdown in eight full quarters on that field against that defense.
Peyton simply couldn't be Peyton. No need for moving around recievers, pointing to every defensive player, or baiting Seattle into showing its disguised coverage. That's because there was no disguised coverage.
Before every play, Seattle all but yelled out to Manning exactly the defense they were running, which was virtually the same each snap. Peyton would make a few line calls, and Seattle wouldn't budge an inch. The message was clear, "Just hike the ball, Peyton, because we're going to bust you and your friends up."
Manning had Fred-Flintstone feet all night. There was no time for a rub route, or a wheel up the sideline. He could throw it three yards or 30, nothing in between, and the downfield throws looked debris floating in the wake of a tornado. It was hopes and prayers on every play, against a band of misfits and late-round draft picks at that.
Yes, Demaryius Thomas broke a Super Bowl record for catches. Certainly didn't seem like it, as he got blasted after every catch, or got the ball poked loose. Wes Welker looked like junior varsity out there, and I'm not sure why Eric Decker bothered to bring a uniform. Knowshon was no-show, and the offensive line couldn't handle anyone in the Seattle d-line rotation.
Conversely, the Seattle offense played much the same, physical and completely undaunted. The Bronco defense tackled like schoolgirls. The game showed the relative softness of the AFC these days.
Yesterday gave me hope. I hate the 42-39 league the NFL has become. I hate the read option, all the cheap rules to help the offense, the illegal hit fouls, the depreciation of running backs, and the fascination with guys like Chip Kelly.
No doubt, the league office is scrambling right now, trying to figure out how the Chosen Boys, Peyton and Brady, keep failing again and again. They're probably looking to "vacate" the championship on Carroll, a la his USC days. What rules can they pass? How do they help Peyton? All hands on deck! This is an emergency!
Peyton was embarassed. I think the league was a little, too, unfortunately.
Me, like many of you, absolutely loved it. Faith was restored. Seattle showed that you can play dadgum physical football, and not draw a single penalty for an illegal hit. You can actually defend the supposed "best offense in the NFL with the greatest quarterback of all time", and you don't have to sell out on every play to do it.
Seattle helped save real football again last night. The top nine offenses of all time...still don't have a title among them. The good Lord willing, you can still play defense and the run the ball, and win.
It hit me as strangely ironic. The young guys played old school, while the older guys played new school.
And, thankfully, Old School won. Right on.
What a yummy surprise that was.
We were treated to double-dumbface, Eli up high and Peyton slumped over, neither with a clue or a hope of what to do. The anointed Mannings managed a single meaningless touchdown in eight full quarters on that field against that defense.
Peyton simply couldn't be Peyton. No need for moving around recievers, pointing to every defensive player, or baiting Seattle into showing its disguised coverage. That's because there was no disguised coverage.
Before every play, Seattle all but yelled out to Manning exactly the defense they were running, which was virtually the same each snap. Peyton would make a few line calls, and Seattle wouldn't budge an inch. The message was clear, "Just hike the ball, Peyton, because we're going to bust you and your friends up."
Manning had Fred-Flintstone feet all night. There was no time for a rub route, or a wheel up the sideline. He could throw it three yards or 30, nothing in between, and the downfield throws looked debris floating in the wake of a tornado. It was hopes and prayers on every play, against a band of misfits and late-round draft picks at that.
Yes, Demaryius Thomas broke a Super Bowl record for catches. Certainly didn't seem like it, as he got blasted after every catch, or got the ball poked loose. Wes Welker looked like junior varsity out there, and I'm not sure why Eric Decker bothered to bring a uniform. Knowshon was no-show, and the offensive line couldn't handle anyone in the Seattle d-line rotation.
Conversely, the Seattle offense played much the same, physical and completely undaunted. The Bronco defense tackled like schoolgirls. The game showed the relative softness of the AFC these days.
Yesterday gave me hope. I hate the 42-39 league the NFL has become. I hate the read option, all the cheap rules to help the offense, the illegal hit fouls, the depreciation of running backs, and the fascination with guys like Chip Kelly.
No doubt, the league office is scrambling right now, trying to figure out how the Chosen Boys, Peyton and Brady, keep failing again and again. They're probably looking to "vacate" the championship on Carroll, a la his USC days. What rules can they pass? How do they help Peyton? All hands on deck! This is an emergency!
Peyton was embarassed. I think the league was a little, too, unfortunately.
Me, like many of you, absolutely loved it. Faith was restored. Seattle showed that you can play dadgum physical football, and not draw a single penalty for an illegal hit. You can actually defend the supposed "best offense in the NFL with the greatest quarterback of all time", and you don't have to sell out on every play to do it.
Seattle helped save real football again last night. The top nine offenses of all time...still don't have a title among them. The good Lord willing, you can still play defense and the run the ball, and win.
It hit me as strangely ironic. The young guys played old school, while the older guys played new school.
And, thankfully, Old School won. Right on.
