My toddler daughter is awake again. It’s 11:45, and her nightly ritual of waking up repeatedly, accompanied by a loud, unrelenting howl, has been renewed. She cares little for any number of facts that fly in the face of this behavior, not the least of which is her Dad needs sleep and so does she. A trifle, you see. It does not matter that my lack of sleep will make me infinitely crankier or that I’ve already read to her and rocked her and fed her and done everything she’s needed. It isn’t enough. She must wake up, howl, and prevent my rest.

We are trained to laugh at the strange, to call an evacuation an inconvenience, to joke at the local officials and their bloodlust for blowing up random innocuous objects. But does that pay our situation enough gravity? Does that pay the proper respect to those charged with protecting our safety in extreme circumstances?

My toddler daughter is awake again. She doesn’t understand the world around here, the consequences of her actions, or the work the people do to protect her. She only wants to be comforted.

I comfort her. She falls asleep again. I stumble back into my bedroom, greeted by the television coverage of the Boston Marathon bombing and its aftermath. I see people in Boston chanting “‘Merica” and high-fiving, and perhaps missing the point.

I don’t care.

Sometimes people need comforting.

The defense has gotten better even WITHOUT suiting this guy up. Wha!?!?

In Week 1, the course of the year was laid out for me when I saw a rookie quarterback surrounded by questionable NFL talent (“questionable” is kind, I think) decimate the Saints defense to the tune of 459 total yards, 19-of-26 passing for 320 yards with two touchdowns and no interceptions, 22 first downs, and even a shameful fourth down conversion added in for good measure (in my view, ANY fourth down conversion surrendered is shameful … it’s the kind of wasted opportunity that generally haunts your team into a loss). For my part, I gave up on that game at 27-10, choosing to spend my time at the grocery store instead.* I don’t, as a rule, do this. But two things had changed: 1.) I’m a father now, and we (fathers) run errands when we can — every opportunity to accomplish something must be cherished. Also, 2.) The Saints were putting on a display rancid enough to qualify it for the 2007 season hall of disaster.

* I expected the grocery story to be full of people who didn’t watch Saints football. I had always, incorrectly, assumed that these people actually exist within the city limits. Wrong. Instead, I encountered a ton of people just like me — Saints fans who couldn’t bear watching the atrocity on display. I felt a rare kinship as I squeezed my tomatoes and avacados in the produce section, and I now feel a great deal of comfort in knowing that those people are there when I need them.

In the wake of that Redskins game, the Saints have managed to surrender at least 421 yards to every single opponent, which is honestly an amazing streak of futility to attempt to comprehend (congrats Green Bay, you’ve amassed the fewest yards of any Saints opponent this year!). But over the past couple of games, I’ve listened to several commentators speak of the Saints defense “looking” better in some vague, intangible way. More damning, I’ve had the same feeling myself.

So is the Saints defense getting better?

Well, let’s look at it in a big picture, traditional stat-metric sense.

The Saints give up an average of 26 first downs and 469 yards a game, which by any measure are horrific figures. What’s worse? Over the past two games, those figures move to only an average of 25 first downs and 451 yards given up — hardly a statistically relevant improvement. On a similar note, the third down conversions surrendered are about the same (39.3 percent for the season vs. 43.8 percent for the past two games).

But some other numbers are more favorable.

Points are down, from 28.4 PPG allowed to 20. Fourth down conversion percentage is MILES better, down from 58.3 to 25. The turnover rate is slightly up (1.5 vs. 1.3), and going from 11 sacks on the season to 21 in the course of two games is certainly a positive development, as well.

It’s my contention that WAY too much is made of the 400 yards given up stat, and that people are looking for something to be negative about when they zero in on that. The single most important stat in winning football games is point differential, either in terms of points per play, success on individual drives, or per game. For the season, the Saints are being outscored 256-249 (an average score of 28.4-27.7). Over the past two games, the Saints are winning 59-40 (an average score of 29.5-20). It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to calculate that the improvement here is mostly on the defensive side of the ball.

(The SECOND most important stat in winning football games is turnover differential. The Saints have managed to break even in that category this season, probably one of the reasons the record isn’t worse than it is — winning the turnover battle certainly helped New Orleans knock off San Diego.)

In points per play, the Saints are at .427 on offense (No. 6 in the NFL) and .398 on defense (No. 27 in the NFL). If you look at just the last three games (including that awful Denver game), those numbers change to .415 (No. 8 in the NFL) and .338 (No. 12 in the NFL). In essence, that’s a difference of .077 points per play, and remember, this includes the Saints getting clubbed like baby seals in Denver. This is scoring efficiency dominance … on offense, AND on defense. (Props to teamrankings.com for the numbers.)

Haters gonna hate. I get that. Mark Ingram is the devil, and so forth. The sample size here is still small. And the Eagles couldn’t score touchdowns because they suck, and we know this. But an honest discussion on defensive improvement is refreshing to me, and it gives me hope for the future. Remember, this was once a defense that got gouged by the Kansas City Chiefs. Holding anyone’s scoring down is an achievement at this point. And this is what the Saints are doing (in addition to being better on fourth down, getting more turnovers, and turning up the pass rush pressure).

Improvement is welcome. Both because, hey, it means more wins, but also because I called for this in the offseason and I love being right about these kinds of things. And whether the improvement is minimal, temporary, or even imagined, I do know one thing about the Saints right now:

I haven’t made any trips to the grocery store during their games over the past two weeks.

That has to count for something.

Collin Klein will step on ye mere mortals.

I have an irrational love for my alma mater, and I do not apologize for it.*

* If you’d like a more thorough explanation as to how this came to be, feel free to buy my book, Eyeblack Odyssey (as an added bonus, I’ll love you forever).

More importantly to anyone who isn’t a fanatical homer of the boys in purple, the Wildcats are a fascinating case in their own right, fresh off a record EIGHT wins by a touchdown or less and returning basically every important cog off of that team in 2012 (with a couple of exceptions, of course).

So it’s a bunch of guys coming back from a team that won close games: You know who also resembled this description? Sure, every other Krik Ferentz Iowa team seemingly has that look (and it usually results in an awesomely disappointing year), but the other candidate is LSU of 2011. As Stewart Mandel reminds us, those Tigers, coming off a bizarre season full of lucky breaks (and yes, bounce-passing a winning lateral on a fake field goal counts as lucky) were often picked to come down to Earth — a popular “bust” pick, if you will.

They won the SEC and made the BCS Championship Game.

I do not (yet) predict such lofty heights for K-State (though this is the perfect place to note the similarities between uber-awesome quarterback Collin Klein and SEC Heisman dominator Tim Tebow and how Tebow had a knack for “willing” his team to victory), but the dichotomy is fascinating. Does a team known for “luck” and close victories learn from those wins and parlay them into something bigger and better the following year? Or does said team get fat and happy and get knocked down several pegs? Maintaining the status quo is seemingly less likely (Or at least, it’s the less compelling story, which may explain the divergence in opinion in the first place. And for the record, most pundits are siding on the disappointment side of the equation … meaning it’s more likely in my mind that they meet or exceed expectations. The “no respect” card is a fun motivator, yes?). So which is it?

Let’s look at the team’s depth, compare it to LSU’s, and see if that tells us anything.

My player scoring system:

Talent

All-American = 6 points
All-conference = 5 points
Honorable mention = 3 points
Four or five star = 4 points
Two or three star = 2 points

Experience

15 games started = 4 points
10 games started = 3 points
5 games started = 2 points
15 games played in = 1 point

The most a player can earn in the “Talent” category is 15 points, while the most he can get in “Experience” is 5 (meaning talent is three times as important as experience … just spitballing, but seems reasonable enough), thereby creating a “perfect” score of 10 when you average the two together.

(A reminder: my methodology is better explained here.)

Kansas State two-deep

Collin Klein (7.5) / Daniel Sams (1)
John Hubert (3) / Angelo Pease (1)
Braden Wilson (3.5) / Ben Kall (0)
Chris Harper (4.5) / Curry Sexton (1)
Tyler Lockett (7.5) / Tramaine Thompson (3)
Travis Tannahill (3.5) / Andre McDonald (1.5)
Cornelius Lucas (1.5) / William Cooper (1)
Nick Puetz (2.5) / Tomasi Mariner (1)
B.J. Finney (5) / Drew Liddle (0)
Boston Stiverson (1) / Keenan Taylor (1.5)
Cody Whitehair (1) / Tavon Rooks (1)

Adam Davis (3.5) / Ryan Mueller (0)
Vai Lutui (2.5) / Javonta Boyd (1)
John Sua (0) / Hakeem Akinola (1)
Meshak Williams (3.5) / Laton Dowling (1)
Justin Tuggle (1) / Jarell Childs (2.5)
Arthur Brown (8) / Blake Slaughter (1.5)
Tre Walker (3) / Jonathan Truman (0)
Nigel Malone (8) / Randall Evans (0)
Allen Chapman (1) / Kip Daily (1)
Ty Zimmeron (6) / Jarard Milo (1)
Thomas Ferguson (1.5) / Kent Gainous (1)

Overall: 2.28 (3.57 for the starters; 1 for the backups)

Observations:

* As noted for LSU, I think anyone at a “2″ or less is probably going to be a liability for you on some level (hopefully more on the “makes occasional errors” level than the “completely overwhelmed” one). For K-State, that means Cornelius Lucas, Boston Stiverson, Cody Whitehair, John Sua, Justin Tuggle, Allen Chapman, and Thomas Ferguson are going to be the guys with giant, flashing targets on their chests.

* It really wouldn’t take much to knock this team off a cliff. I say this because the depth is amazingly horrific. Granted, my system should be reworked to make games played in more valuable a commodity (probably too devalued in comparison to starts), but I still count just five backups who aren’t a complete disaster area, and of those, probably two (Tramaine Thompson and Jarell Childs) are fit to start.

* No one should be surprised that LSU is in much better shape in terms of overall depth. Here’s where the comparisons to LSU get fun, however. With the dismissal of Tyrann Mathieu, K-State has the same number of high-impact guys (six) that the Tigers do. Those guys (earning a “5″ ranking or better) are Collin Klein, Tyler Lockett, B.J. Finney, Arthur Brown, Nigel Malone, and Ty Zimmerman for K-State; Spencer Ware, Chris Faulk, Alex Hurst, Sam Montgomery, Barkevious Mingo, and Eric Reid for LSU. Overall, K-State’s starters average nearly a 3.6 … not a far cry from LSU’s 4.0.

* The K-State starting offense, while burdened with the above-mentioned three “weak links” along the offensive line, looks like a more consistent unit across the board (ratings range from 1 to 7.5, with an average score of 3.68) than the starting defense (ratings range from 0 to 8, with an average score of 3.57).

* I don’t do this crap for special teams because that means more work, and let’s be clear here, lol. K-State would do well there, but they get credit for Lockett on offense, so it’s basically a wash (not really, but it is in my head).

* Man crushes on Collin Klein and Arthur Brown are warranted.

* Bill Snyder is indeed a sorceror.

So in conclusion, I firmly believe the starting unit for K-State is up to the task for a championship run, even more so if the offensive tackles get their stuff together quickly. The second unit, decidedly less so. This isn’t so different from another 30 or so programs hovering in and out of the Top 25 in any given season, but there it is regardless. If K-State is fortunate with injuries, it has the talent in place to make a run of it.

I’ll try to get Florida State up next week, then do season predictions for all three teams. Good times.

In the meantime, here’s some K-State football video goodness.

(Originally written Oct. 5, 2011)

To accurately describe my hatred of Nebraska is akin to asking a person in the throes of a passionate argument to settle down for a bit and while they are at it, could they please type up a reasoned response letter to an I.R.S inquiry? This is not something easily achieved. Especially not in a quick fashion. But I shall endeavor to limit myself anyway…

I hate Nebraska, firstly and primarily, for beating my team consistently and thoroughly. This is an important allowance on my part, as it provides context for the rest of my rant — but should also not diminish it. If this were truly about sour grapes, petty jealousy, or just bitter disappointment, I do not think I would have the rationality to allow for this simple fact. Nebraska beat Kansas State a lot. Convincingly. I do not like this. And thus is the foundation of our relationship.

But like a properly constructed home, lovingly built through skill and patience, my dislike for Nebraska does not consist merely of a solid foundation. Oh no, it is a web of complex emotion and reaction to events that have occurred over a great many seasons that allow me to reach my current level of enmity.

I want them to lose every game. By sixty points.

The starting point for this mindset is the losses, and they were many. Nebraska holds a 78-15-2 lead in the all-time series, and while I’ve only been around for a small portion of those losses, the record itself is painful in the way few things in athletics are. But again, this is just our baseline. OU, another traditional Big 8 power, holds almost as bad an advantage: 70-17-4. But the disgust for OU is less severe. I can explain…

It comes back to the fans. The attitude. The way the program carries itself. OU, for as talented as it was, was equally flamboyant. Those guys flaunted the rules with a kind of Miami-like passion. It was remarkable to behold, really. Switzer. The Boz. Hell, their team nickname is based around the very concept of cheating. Does one expect class and restraint here? No, one doesn’t. They were genuine. And yet even though their fans were angry, vile, and deluded when their team wasn’t winning in the mid-90s, for the most part, they left us alone. Bigger fish to fry, you see. Texas. Miami. Whoever. They did not linger, because they did not have to.

Nebraska lingered. When three weeks had passed, and you saw a Nebraska fan at church, said Nebraska fan asked about the football game. It was not a friendly way of making conversation. It was a deliberate attempt to establish a pecking order. “We may be fairly equal in the real world, good friend, but my team is better than yours, and I will not let you forget it.” This type of treatment is generally reserved for one’s rivals, yes? And it is usually done so in an aggressive manner, not in disingenuous friendliness. Nebraska fan winked and smiled as he always reminded you that his team was the better one (“always” because they nearly always won). And if that wasn’t enough, he had the temerity to call himself a part of the “best fan base in America.”

But Nebraska fan is not so different from the rest of us. After thirty straight years of losses (literally thirty straight years of losses! — I had not been alive the last time we had beaten them!), Kansas State finally broke through and won in 1998. It was our year. It was our time. And after 30 years, could they give us credit? No they could not. And what made that worse, is their so-called “best fans” questioned our fan base for celebrating too much.

Are you kidding me with this crap? First win in 30 years? Over a group of people that had been rubbing your nose in it for 30 years? Over a bunch of apologists who explained away fourth-quarter touchdowns in 50-point blowouts as being “preparation” for future games? And then they want to whine about a face mask? No thanks.

We beat them again. We got booed. We beat them again. We caused their “best fans” to leave early. I thought they never did that? They did it. We made them do it. Oddly enough, we joined Colorado as having the “worst fans” in the conference. Never mind that these were the only two teams to stand up and beat them once in a while. Never mind that they were losing now, and that didn’t feel so good.

(Not so different from the rest of us, eh?)

Eventually, their school and athletic program turned their back on the Big 12, and their departure created the instability we must now all deal with for the foreseeable future. That is fact. They may have left for some very good reasons, but their departure crippled my conference and has left my school’s athletic future in doubt. I can not abide that.

But I understand their rationalizing. For a program so far in denial about what it truly is, wanting so much to be the “nice guy” rather than the “bully,” but never ever wavering from its surest nature deep down, this move is classic Nebraska. Blindside everyone. Sucker-punch them. Walk away with your chest puffed out about your having “won” … and then blame someone else for making you do it afterwards.

I do not miss you Nebraska. I do not miss your fans. I would wish you luck in your new conference, but it would not be sincere, and you would not need it anyway. Nebraska, one way or another, will always land on its feet. It may stab you in the neck to do so, but at least it will be smiling at you when it does it.

Be careful, Big 10 fans.

It wasn’t always this way for me, of course. I remember my birthday as a child as being magical and full of wonder. Getting my General Lee tricycle was a high point. As was the pool party that one year. And a bicycle another year (though that bicycle had a weird design to it that kind of made it look like a girl’s bike and I was always a little too sensitive about that in the ensuing months/years). The friends, the family, the food, the gifts. And best of all, my birthday was in the summer, which meant I never had to go to school on my birthday ever.

What more could any kid want?

Growing up took the luster off some, but really I’m just quibbling here. I remember getting toys I was too old for, being made to feel aware of that, and the disappointment and shame that followed. I also remember getting into the odd argument with a friend or relative, and while those things always got patched up later, they did put a damper on the festivities.

One year, my dad put a zip line up in the backyard. For someone who had just seen (and obsessed over) Batman (1989 version), I think this might have been the greatest gift imaginable. He could have bought the cheap-looking plastic one I pointed out in the catalog (yes there was a catalog that had a zip line in it — I am not sure how or why my parents would let such a catalog into my dirty little fingers), but he decided instead to build one himself. I rolled my eyes at this at first, as he often would default to the home-built option over the store-bought, and the two often didn’t resemble one another, sort of defeating the purpose. My mom did the same thing, sewing up outfits for some of my toys, rather than buy me the toy with the different outfit.

As a new parent, I do not know where they found the time (though I do look forward to spoiling my child on her birthday as best as I can).

What I do know is that these acts are much more appreciated by adult Dave rather than kid Dave. But regardless of the relative merits of making things at home versus buying them at the store, the zip line built from scratch was a tremendous success.* Sturdy, dependable, and most importantly of all, absurdly fast. We’d set up barriers on top of saw horses and chairs and trash cans, many of them of the cardboard box variety, and joyfully kick the shit out of them as we zipped by. The Batman theme was embraced enthusiastically, and I put my mediocre art skills to good use, drawing and coloring various Batman characters on the sides of the various pieces of cardboard. It was the most gratifying kind of experience to fly through the air on that zip line, kicking the Joker in the face as you barreled toward the finish line, a willow tree you often plowed right into if you didn’t bail from the device in time.

* It WAS a tremendous success until the power company eventually noticed it attached to the city light post and took offense to that, cutting the wire. This would have devastated me had I not already grown too big for it in the interim. At least we got a couple of years of delirious fun out of it.

Adult birthdays just aren’t as much fun as that. How can they be? You’re not the center of someone’s universe the same way you are as a kid.

Well, not exactly.

Adulthood IS different, and it IS less fun, but you can still be the center of someone’s universe. It just doesn’t need to center around your birthday.

Six years ago today I met in person for the first time the love of my life. The story surrounding this meeting is pretty great, as first meeting stories often are. But the details, such as they are, have taken on a more mythical quality as the years have passed. To hear my lovely wife tell it today, I hated her on sight and it was a complete miracle that a second date even happened. I do not remember things quite the same way, but I do know we had lunch (Mexican food), and that it was my birthday (which meant she felt obligated to buy me a gift — a light-up margarita glass).

I don’t talk much when nervous. She talks a lot when nervous. So the first date consisted of her talking the whole time, and me mostly nodding politely.

There are other details. Regardless, it was one of the seminal days of my life, meeting my future wife, the most important person on the Earth (to me, anyway). And so to me, this day, my birthday, has become something else entirely. As I have gotten older and the luster has faded from all of the kiddie celebrations of years’ past (though I will always remember and cherish those days and my parents’ efforts), a new kind of celebration has taken hold in my heart. This day IS important to me, though not in the way it once was. And I do not tell her enough, and I am sometimes a stubborn ass who doesn’t listen, but I’m telling her now:

I love you, Caiti. Thank you so much for the past six years. I can’t wait to see what the next 60 bring. Happy first date anniversary.

Against all odds, I avoid any headlines. Despite there being no decorum about this thing whatsoever, Twitter doesn’t drop any bombshells on my head. And nobody on Facebook or in my circle of friends/family manages to blow anything for me either.

Surprising and amazing.

I put the television on because, well, what are the odds I could watch the Olympics tape delay without knowing what happens? 1 in 100 if that?

Missy races her trial and qualifies. We go to commercial. Since I don’t want to miss what happens, and because I think I’ll throw NBC a bone and watch their commercials since they are entertaining me, I don’t change the channel.

And those turds run a promo for their stupid fucking morning show, asking the fuck-stupid question, “how does it feel to win your first gold medal? We ask Missy and her parents blah blah blah” literally seconds before Missy would of course win her first gold medal.

There are no proper words for this incompetence and/or treachery.

Fuck you, NBC.

You make the call whether the Superdome keeps its old facade or not!

So the other day I got to thinking, what if someone did the same thing with the New Orleans Saints? It would be awesome, no?

Well, that someone is me. Our story begins after the jump.

————————

In between building media empires and selling used cars, you are in control of the New Orleans Saints. Most of the time, this is a pretty cool gig, involving dancing with parasols and cajolling the local government into sweatheart business deals. But this offseason has been trying. Your general manager, head coach, and some of your players have earned suspensions following accusations of a bounty program in your midst … a bounty program that may or may not have even existed (Okay, it did, but does anyone have any proof? Yeah, I thought so.).

The good news is you got your star quarterback, Drew Brees, signed to a huge contract, and you have what looks like a pretty stocked roster headed into training camp.

Some months ago, it was determined that Joe Vitt would be your head coach this year, but he has his own suspension to serve (the first six games of the season), and you do have other solid choices for the job in Pete Carmichael (who ran the offense superbly in your head coach’s absence last fall) and Steve Spagnuolo (a former head coach himself). You are now having second thoughts about this Joe Vitt decision.

Do you stick with Joe Vitt, promote Carmichael, or go with Spagnuolo instead?

Steve Spagnuolo has been a head coach before, this is true, but it was with the Rams (adding that it was a disaster is just restating the obvious here — it was the Rams). In trying to teach his players on defense a new philosophy/scheme while simultaneously running the entire operation (an operation he is relatively unfamiliar with), Spags gets overwhelmed and your team gets off to a 1-5 start.

What do you do now?

A.) Demote Spags and go with Vitt instead.

OR

B.) Stick with Spags, but bring in a motivational speaker.

Do you honestly see this helping? Vitt manages a slightly better winning percentage in leading you to 4-12 finish, but the season is such a mess it scares Payton off for good. You clean house with the coaching staff, trying to cobble together a winning team around your $100 million quarterback, but he eventually gets bored with the process, retiring into a career in local politics.

Mayor Brees eventually evicts you from the Superdome, spurring a local ownership change.

Your parasols are little consolation to you now.

Your motivational speaker, Rickey Jackson, calls for you to “smoke” your opponents and eat more of his sausage. An industrious Sean Pamphilon sneaks into the locker room for the speech, and some clever editing later, you’ve got Goodell breathing down your neck again following the release of his video.

You promise Goodell that this is not what it appears to be, and moreover, that he can nuke your team to the ground if he finds any evidence that the bounties have returned. Goodell agrees, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Of course there’s still the matter of winning games. Jackson’s ridiculous speech somehow worked last week, as your team put together its best effort of the season in an unexpected win over the Broncos. So with that in mind, you have a decision to make: Do you take your chances with another motivational speaker, or do you make some kind of deal at the trading deadline (which was conveniently moved to this very week)?