A Tyson Bagent Haiku
There once was a coach called Eberflus.
Whose neck was well in the coaching noose.
Some wins were the suture,
He drafted his future,
And now Matt is rockin’ like Bruce.
The Friday column will return to football next week!
There has been a growing conversation on various social media platforms about the decline of modern cinema, but much of that conversation centers around the box office returns of various “failed” studio pictures, i.e. The Fall Guy and Furiosa. But there is a far more serious development than the changing patterns of movie consumption. Movies, through the misguided behavior of studios, streamers and distributors, have been rendered disposable.
For the sake of discussing the lack of cultural impact being made by modern cinema, we will need a film around which to center that discussion. As a nod to Seinfeld, a sitcom responsible for creating some of the most magnificent fake films in history, we will use its crowning achievement, Rochelle, Rochelle, a young girl’s strange, erotic journey from Milan to Minsk.
We start with Entertainment Weekly.
In the 1990s, the seasonal preview issues of EW were the Holy Bible for film fans. These issues laid out, week-by-week, every movie release expected over the coming months. Many, me included, would create our own calendars with a listing of the films we wanted to/expected to see. When I picked up the fall preview issue, I would identify that Rochelle, Rochelle was releasing in New York and Los Angeles on September 17. That moment, it’s listing in that issue, was the inception point, the beginning of Rochelle, Rochelle‘s cultural impact.
A release on September 17th in limited cities would not be limited to strictly New York City and Los Angeles, but also the New York City suburbs, which included Montclair, New Jersey, where I would have likely seen it at the Clairidge (pictured above). The film would be reviewed by all of the major critics and seen by all the serious film fans in those areas. If the reviews were good, and it did decent business, the film would expand to more theaters by around mid-October.
Rochelle, Rochelle is a small film so it wouldn’t be expected to gross hundreds of millions of dollars, but it could have a life in a few hundred theaters (or more) for those few months. Then it would fade as more titles emerged, and likely be out of theaters by the time the big Christmas releases. In early January, if it received Oscar nominations, Rochelle, Rochelle would return to cinemas with a new advertising campaign focused on those nominations. Again, it wouldn’t be expected to make a fortune, but it could play for a month or so before fading out again.
In July of 2019, I published a listing of my 100 favorite bars – open or closed – in the world. Since that time, a pandemic happened, and my passport expired, so I have not traveled much. Nevertheless, today I present an addendum to that list, a collection of bars that have emerged in my life over the last five years; the five toughest years the bar business has faced.
#10. McGovern’s Tavern, Newark NJ.
After receiving some good and relieving news during a meeting at Rutgers-Newark, the future home of my academic studies, I retreated back to this bar I’d spent many days in as a younger lad. My intention was to have a beer or two and take the 3:00 PM train home. I ended up on the 8:05. In that one visit McGovern’s restored its place in my drinking life, even if the exterior bears no resemblance to the old stays. (See the picture directly below.)
#9. Gantry Bar and Kitchen, Long Island City NY.
During Covid, this was the first bar that allowed us to come inside and drink at the counter. For people who consider the barroom the centerpiece of their social life, this was an amazing moment. Gantry’s location – almost exactly at the halfway point along the NYC Marathon route – made it the perfect spot to experience my favorite day in the city all year. (Shoutout to Ashling O’Dwyer, the person I’m most excited to have encountered during the Covid era.)
#8. The Bar at Hollow Brook Golf Club, Cortlandt Manor NY.
There is an artistry to the golf club bar, and the great ones feel like extensions of the round you’ve just played. At Hollow Brook you can sidle up the bar for a cold pint and watch the pros on television or turn around and watch the hackers come up the 9th through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. (There’s also a patio to enjoy, but I’ve never sat on it.) Like most great golf club bars, you start thinking about far before your final putt on 18.
#7. Pic-a-Lilli Pub, Atlantic City NJ. (Closed October 2022)
I celebrated my 40th birthday in Atlantic City and “the Pic” had the best wings I’ve ever eaten outside of Buffalo. That was January of 2022. But the end of that year, the bar was no more, and another Atlantic City landmark was gone.
In February of 2019, the New England Patriots won the most boring Super Bowl game ever played, snoozing the nation with a 13-3 victory over a then dramatically overmatched, and now Scrooge McDuck-esque wealthy Jared Goff. That Pats team defied the statistical odds, specifically in one category: they were one of the league’s worst pass rushing units, finishing the regular season T-30 in sack total.
Sacks, many argue, are an overrated statistic. I do not endorse this argument. Pressure is great, numerically. But pressure doesn’t hurt. Pressure doesn’t lead to a frightened quarterback putting the football on the turf inside his own ten. Pressure doesn’t sideline your rival’s quarterback for multiple weeks in the stretch run. The threat of violence from a street corner bully can be incredibly effective, but your relationship to him is dramatically altered once he’s socked you in the jaw.
Since that New England Super Bowl dud, here are the regular season sack rankings of the Super Bowl champions:
2019 Chiefs: 11th.
2020 Bucs: T-4.
2021 Rams: 3.
2022 Chiefs: 2.
2023 Chiefs: 2.
Sack the quarterback, win the chip. The 2023 Bears were 31st in the sport, 30 sacks behind the league-leading Baltimore Ravens. So, what has to change? A significant amount.
What is star quality? How does one quantify it? Richard Zanuck, one of the producers of Jaws (and countless other non-shark films) tried to sum it, saying, “Star quality is one of the most difficult things to describe. It emanates from the person, and he may not even understand it himself. It’s a quality that separates the star from the rest of us.”
Star quality, when it comes to sports, is perhaps even more difficult to define than it is in Hollywood, but there are correlations. Michael Shannon and Campbell Scott and Cherry Jones are brilliant actors, but are they stars? Of course not. “I’m going to see the new Cherry Jones film” is a sentence that has never been uttered outside of my apartment. D.J. Moore and Jaylon Johnson are a brilliant wide receiver/corner combo, but how many tickets do you think the two players are responsible for selling? I would argue very, very few. If Jaylon Johnson walked into my local bar for trivia night, there’s a chance I wouldn’t even recognize him.
Brilliance does not equal stardom in sports, but it is a requirement, because stardom without brilliance is mere celebrity. The Kelce brothers are stars in the NFL not just because of pop star girlfriends, shirtless beer guzzling and a top podcast. That helps, and their personalities enable those things, but they are stars in the NFL because they complement those personalities with two of the greatest careers seen at their respective positions.
Baker Mayfield has the personality, but not the game. Justin Jefferson has the game, but not the personality. The list of those who combine both attributes is a short one and that’s what makes a Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, Patrick Mahomes, Mike Singletary, Ray Lewis, Deion Sanders, Reggie White, Lawrence Taylor, Randy Moss, etc. so unique. Hell, Aaron Rodgers might three clubs (or more) short of a full golf bag but his stardom, and the attention it receives, are undeniable. (Joe Burrow and Cam Newton always struck me as fake stars. Great players who put on funny outfits to gain the attention they believe accompanies stardom.)
Cade McNown could have been the greatest QB to ever play but that “personality” was never going to breed stardom. Same with Rex Grossman and Mitch Trubisky. Jay Cutler had a remarkably unique personality, but he polarized the cities in which he played to such a degree that transcendent stardom seemed an impossibility. Justin Fields had electric moments on the field but offered very little elsewhere. Could you imagine Fields in these State Farm commercials Mahomes does?
Caleb already does the commercials. Dr. Pepper. Wendy’s. You name it.
I don’t know what the Jerry Angelo “project” was; his tenure was marred by a pernicious reluctance to add top receiver talent and ultimately doomed by Caleb Hanie’s inability to play the quarterback position at a high school level.
I don’t know what the Phil Emery “project” was; his tenure never got out of the starting gate, as hiring Marc Trestman (and not Bruce Arians) derailed any potential success for the organization on his watch.
I think I know what the Ryan Pace “project” was, but he learned the single most important lesson for an NFL GM: if you get the quarterback wrong your chance at success is minimal. (And he technically got it wrong twice.)
The Ryan Poles Project may sound like the name of a 70s prog rock band, but it is actually the most coherently executed management plan the Chicago Bears have displayed in forty years. It’s had a clear, definable trajectory since George McCaskey met Poles at that Blackhawks Bar in O’Hare (or something). But its legibility took form even before that meeting.
When the Bears were interviewing general manager candidates to replace Pace, no candidate was more honest than Poles. He looked George and Ted in the eyes and told them, in no uncertain terms, that the roster was crap. He told them he would have to burn the entire thing to the ground, collapse it like one of those Vegas casinos that can no longer survive an endless series of minor renovations. He told them what he envisioned was not a quick fix, but instead a multi-year project that would end with the Bears being consistent contenders. He needed them to commit to that vision, that project. And they did.
Flus brought in.
But say goodbye
to Khalil, Bob Quinn
and some Roquan guy.
Loss after loss,
Fans head for the hills.
But hold up, hoss.
It’s Davis Mills!
Like healing a leper,
They’ve got the first pick.
And here comes Dave Tepper,
the des-per-ate prick.
