Things We Hate - Moves Like Jagger

Music is supposed to come from somewhere deep within the writer's soul.  It's supposed to be an expression of emotion or feeling or an experience.  It's supposed to come from a place that few ever get to, or at least feel comfortable enough to share what they find.  It's supposed to be a product of some creative process.  It's supposed to mean something.  Music is supposed to be all those things.

And then there is "Moves Like Jagger."  A song so bad that we just can't turn it off, lest we miss a chance to actively hate it.  At worst, it's a pure money grab, a record company edict to pen a song to leverage whatever passes for popularity for Maroon 5.  At best, it's a song built completely around an annoying whistle-melody thing.

We haven't always hated Maroon 5.  Their early songs had a strongly intriguing, domestic violence-y vibe that was made oddly comical due to their lead singer being roughly the size of a garden gnome.  The songs we catchy and, no matter your taste, came from a place of emotion.  Even if it's the same place the Goo Goo Dolls and Matchbox 20 go to find their songs, Maroon 5 didn't always completely suck.

But "Moves Like Jagger" is none of those things.  It's not catchy.  It's not clever.  It is a brand of horribleness that it almost impossible to verbalize.  But that doesn't mean we won't try.  Break-down style.


Oh, yeah


Oh, no.  This song is about to burst through the walls of your temporal lobe like a big red beverage pitcher.

Oh!

Seriously.  Has any good song ever started with something from page 1 of the "Big Book of Music Cliches?"  There is literally no connection between this beginning "oh"-filled salvo and the rest of this abomination.  It's only downhill from here.

Just shoot for the stars

If it feels right

And aim for my heart

If you feel like

And take me away and make it OK

This first verse starts out like the pilot episode of every "mystery" show network t.v. has attempted since "Lost."  It's both purposely confusing and utterly unnecessarily confusing.  Is his heart in space?  What exactly are we shooting?  And why?  Will this be vaguely explained later in the song by a flashback that will ultimately leave us disappointed and underwhelmed?

I swear I'll behave

We'll hold you to that.  


You wanted control

So we waited

I put on a show

Now I make it

You say I'm a kid

My ego is big

I don't give a shit

Such language!!  We were told he would behave.  Adam Levine is a lying little midget.  And a braggadocios one at that.


And it goes like this

Oh god.  Here is comes.

Take me by the tongue

And I'll know you

Instead of taking him by the younger, we'd preferable to just remove it in hope of preventing such future assaults on good taste.

(Go ahead, grab your own tongue and sing the chorus.  It's better.  Much better.)

Kiss me 'til you're drunk

And I'll show you

Reason 4,267 Why This Song Sucks:  It begs perhaps the stupidest question ever asked on the Internet.

All the moves like Jagger

I've got the moves like Jagger

I've got the moves like Jagger

This might have been a cool sentiment in the 1970's when Jagger was, you know, not geriatric.  We sincerely doubt that many would understand, much less be impressed by, his weird little strutty-dance.  It would probably be mistaken for that that made-up Michael J. Fox disease from "The Good Wife."

I don't need to try to control you

Look into my eyes and I'll own you

With them moves like Jagger

I've got the moves like Jagger

I've got the moves like Jagger

In case you haven't figured it out by now.  This song is literally about seducing a woman (or man, perhaps) with the power of dance.  Which is absurd.  But what if we looked at it another way?


"Dear Group of Aging Musicians Who Aren't Allowed to Retire Because Every Time They Tour A New Person Gets Filthy Rich,

Maybe it's hard
When you feel like you're broken and scarred

Nothing feels right

But when you're with me

I'll make you believe

That I've got the key

Love, Dr. Kevorkian.

P.S.  The key is just the right mixture of saline, sodium thiopental, potassium chloride and pancuronium bromide."

Oh

So get in the car


So now we're in a car?  We thought we were dancing.  Are we car dancing?  Cause that actually kinda fun.

We can ride it


Ride it?  Driving it probably better.  Let's just drive instead.

Wherever you want
Get inside it


Home.  We want to go home.  Take us home.  Please.

And you want to steer

But I'm shifting gears

Yo, that's really fucking dangerous, man.  And highly irresponsible.  Plus the car is an automatic.  And that's park.  Keep your goddamn hands off the shifter.    


I'll take it from here (Oh! Yeah yeah!)

And it goes like this (Uh)

[violent crash into the median killing another driver but allowing the members of Maroon 5 to walk away unscathed.]

[Godawful, horrible, horrible, chorus.  Over and over again.]

Knock knock.  Who's there?  It's Christina Aguilera and she's just straight barging into the studio, totally uninvited, and doing Christina Aguilera-y things all over the place.  And by "Christina Aguilera-y Things", we mean eating and vocal gymnastics.  In that order.

You wanna know how to make me smile


Reservations for Golden Corral?

Take control, own me just for the night

And if I share my secret

You're gonna have to keep it

Things That Are Not Christina Aguilera's Secret:


1.  Vegetables.
2.  Prosthetics.
3.  The Chuck Norris Total Gym.
4.  High Self-Esteem.
5.  That Burlesque was good.


Nobody else can see this

No, we can all see it.  Sorry.


So watch and learn

I won't show you twice

Head to toe, oooh baby rub me right


She is, after all, a genie in a bottle.  But have you ever wondered how Maroon 5 and Xtina ended up doing this song?  Wonder no more.


[on the set of "The Voice."]


Adam Levine:  Hey Cee-Lo!!


Cee-Lo:  Sorry man, no autographs.


AL:  Oh Cee, can I call you Cee? You're so funny.


Cee-Lo:  Do I know you?  And, no.  It's Mr. Lo.


AL:  You crack me up Cee.


Cee-Lo:  Seriously, it's Mr. Lo.  SECURITY!!


AL:  Whoah. Whoah, Mr. Lo.  It's me, Adam.  I sit next to you on our show, NBC's "The Voice."


Cee-Lo:  If you say so.


AL:  LOL!!  Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to do a song with my band.


Cee-Lo:  Sorry man.  I don't play open mics anymore.  Let me know when you get a record deal.


AL:  No, no, we have a deal.  We're "Maroon 5."  Maybe you've heard of us.


Cee-Lo:  No.  


AL:  Oh.


Cee-Lo:  Listen, I gotta go do something better than have this conversation.  Moron 5.  What kind of name is that ...


AL:  [sings parts of various Maroon 5 songs]  Does that ring a bell?


Cee-Lo:  You sound a lot like that chick on the Kanye song.


AL:  That's me!!  Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to do a collaboration.


Christina Aguilera:  I'll do it!!


AL:  Oh shit.  Um, hey Christina. I'd love to have you do it but I already aske Cee, I mean, Mr. Lo.  And he said he'd do it.  Right?


Cee-Lo:  [walks away]


CA:  I'm totally available!!  Nothing else going on.  Schedule is clear.


AL:  Um...how bout I get back to you.  Cee-Lo, wait up!!


Fast forward to CA crashing the Maroon 5 recording session.

But if I share my secret

You're gonna have to keep it

Nobody else can see this (Ay! Ay! Ay! Aaay!)

Things That Could Be Christina Aguilera's Secret:

6.  She's not a good sharer.
7.  Words can bring her down.
8.  That her "Secret Potion" is made from rawhide and the blood of a newborn
9.  What a girl really wants is cheesy breadsticks
10.  That her daddy didn't hug her enough.

And it goes like this

[Chorus:]

By this point we've usually passed out from the hate exhaustion.  When asked about the song, Levine said the following:

It was one of those songs that was definitely a risk; it's a bold statement ... I'm just happy everyone likes it.

He's only half right.  It is a bold statement.  It's incredibly bold to release something this shitty.  It takes some serious balls (or just a complete lack of self awareness).  But he's wrong she he says everyone likes it.  He hate it and we hope you do to.  The 8.5 million sold is only proof of the enduring nature of human stupidity.  But as long as we're around and blogging, we'll continue to fight the good fight and ridicule where ridicule is necessary.

In closing, fuck this song.

Stupid Commenter Beatdown - The Dangers of Glitter

OH YEAH!!

Picture from here.

There's really no point to this other than to tease an NPR story about a "Sparkly Weapon of Disapproval."  Yes, we're talking about "Glitter Bombs."  And they are exactly what they sound like.  

Earlier this week, former Pennsylvania Sen. Rick Santorum was glitter-bombed by Occupy protesters in Tacoma, Wash., during a rally.  It wasn't the first time for Santorum. 

Everyone remembers their first time for santorum.

In fact, all of the Republican presidential candidates still in the race have faced off with glitter bombers. Unlike a ticker-tape parade or a burst of celebratory confetti, glitter-bombing is a form of protest — it tells candidates that someone thinks they're wrong on an issue.

And that you're going to spend small portions of the next three weeks finding that, no, you didn't get it all off in the shower.

Former Massachusetts Gov. Mitt Romney got hit by the tiny, shiny stuff at a rally after winning the Florida primary. He brushed it off — literally as well as figuratively.  

And quickly to avoid anyone seeing that he doesn't have a reflection.

"This is an exciting time. I'm happy for a little celebration. This is confetti ... 

"And I'm a viable presidential candidate!!" a delusional Romney said.

This sparkly weapon of disapproval was first launched last May in Minnesota.  Former House Speaker Newt Gingrich and his wife were signing books at an event sponsored by a group that opposes same-sex marriage.  "Feel the rainbow, Newt! ... 

"It's taste, you idiot.  TASTE the rainbow!!  Get me the head of employee training, now!!!"  Joe Skittles.

Stop the hate! Stop anti-gay politics! It's dividing our country and it's not fixing our economy," a protester yelled as he hit Gingrich with glitter.  "Nice to live in a free country," Gingrich said.

Where a failed House Speaker on his third marriage with a weird name can be a viable presidential candidate by running on moral issues.  For 15 minutes at least.

Meanwhile, the protester, Nick Espinosa, was being quickly escorted out.  Espinosa says he's part of the "Glitterati — a nationwide movement to stand up to bigotry and anti-gay politics with a lighthearted dousing of glitter."

Lighthearted indeed!!

Espinosa is 25 and unemployed.  

You're kidding.

He told NPR he carried his glitter to the event in a Cheez-It box. But why glitter in the first place?

Because it's harmless but sensational?

"It's a harmless but sensational way to bring attention to serious issues," Espinosa says.

YES!!

"I knew he wasn't going to be hurt by it, but I also knew that it would stick with him and that, you know, for the days to come he'd be remembering what I said as he pulled the glitter sparkles from his hair. And that you know, of course, who doesn't want to see Newt Gingrich covered in glitter?"

Nobody wants to see Newt Gingrich.  Glitter or no glitter. Newt + Glitter = Ke$sha.

Well, Gingrich for one. He told The New York Times in an email that "glitter-bombing is clearly an assault and should be treated as such."

Newt Gingrich is clearly a douche and should be treated as such.

In fact, a Colorado student was arrested last week after tossing glitter at Romney in Denver. He was charged with causing a disturbance, an unlawful act on school property and throwing a missile.

And suddenly the invasion of Iraq makes so much more sense.

And a Washington, D.C., optometrist warns that it is possible to injure someone with glitter.

"If it gets into the eyes, the best scenario is it can irritate, it can scratch. Worst scenario is it can actually create a cut," Stephen Glasser told The Hill. He also noted that breathing glitter into your nose and sinuses could cause an infection.

Another example of that famed optometrical sense of humor.

We bet your wondering what the commenters had to say.  Besides the standard liberal/conservative, tea party/occupy, left/right hate-suck fest, there are a few goodies.

Mike Hunter (Mhunter) wrote:

I still prefer a good old fashioned cream pie in the face.  It's much more hilarious!

We bet you do.

Jose Bustamante (J_D_B) wrote: 

Anyone stupid enough to try to throw an unidentified object which could easily be mistaken for a grenade or a bag of anthrax spores, and throw it at the President of the United States, would definitely be taken down by the Secret Service.  And rightly so. As an expression of disapproval, I think glitter bombing is no big deal and certainly not an "assault".  But anyone stupid enough to try it on the POTUS would deserve it if they got shot for their trouble.

In fairness, "Frag"does look a bit menacing.  But come on, that anthrax is fabulous!!  If the military-styled Village Person had tried to glitter Jimmy Carter it might have saved the country from a ton of awkward wedding moments.  

Thomas Greene (FreeAgent) wrote:

Claims that these are "acts of intolerance" are just absurd. Technically, yes. They are acts of intolerance.  But they are acts of intolerance AGAINST intolerance. The rule of that marks liberal, pluralistic societies is that it cannot tolerate intolerance if it wishes to survive.  Claiming that someone is wrong because they are not tolerant of people who hate them or treat them like second class citizens is just thoughtless.

Wait, what?  Note to commenters:  Just because you use "smart" words doesn't mean you're smart.  "These are acts of intolerance because they are act of intolerance but they're intolerant of intolerance.  So the intolerance cancels out.  It's Newton's 3rd Law of Intolerance."

C Morris (CMorris) wrote:  

Boy, leave it to the Angry Gecko to swing 'Franco'. He keep calling for the arrest of people. Crypto-fascist, anyone??

Um...no.  Also, geckos are lizards.  Newts are amphibians (which means they can't get married to each other apparently).  Know your taxonomy, sir.

The Most Perfect Thing About the NFL Season - Not Tim Tebow Edition

Yesterday was the first Sunday without football.  There was nothing on except for meaningless regular season NBA games, another disappointing final round for Tiger (are we the only ones who don't like "Lefty"?), and "The Wedding Planner."  Sad times.  Rather than spend time with our family or, worse yet, doing something productive, we decided it was the perfect time to pay tribute to the most perfect thing about this past season - the Sunday NFL Countdown Open.

Everybody knows Sunday NFL Countdown.  It's one of ESPN's flagship franchises, a football preview show that has become so bloated and overflowing with talking heads that it no longer fits on a single set.  The standard "Desk Set" is now complimented by the "Lounge" where everyone chills on couches without ties thinking about how drunk Joe Namath was when he hit on Suzie Kolber.  (In fairness, it does beat the the old "Mort and Shefter Share a Stool." set-up.)  Even if the show itself is highly flawed (see "The Mayne Event" which has now run approximately five years too long.  Ed. Note: "The Mayne Event' began in 2005.), the open is absolutely perfect.  So perfect that in only 47 seconds it manages to provide you, the viewer, with all the information needed to understand who the main characters really are.  It's a triumph of exposition.  Here's what we glean:

Tom Jackson:  Meet Tom Jackson, the only person on this show who does any fucking work.  Because his career was less noteworthy than his colleagues, Tom is driven by an insecurity that requires him to actually know what he's talking about, a rare element in this show.  His professionalism reminds us of a time when ESPN cared about what it said, not just how loud it could say it.

Mike Ditka:  If there is one word that best describes Mike Ditka it is, of course:  Ditka.  Ditka is more of an image than a real person, someone this tough and real can't be bothered to do things like look at stats or watch film.  He's got cigars to smoke and beers to drink.  And a gut to consult.  A paper and pen (Ditka doesn't erase) are all he needs to compose another blistering episode of "Stop It."  Ditka.

Keyshawn Johnson:  The embodiment of the ethic of "style over substance." The quality of insight spewing from Keyshawn's preternaturally large mouth doesn't matter as long as his pocket square matches his tie.  And his socks.  Keyshawn is a star.  We're all just flashlights.

Chris Carter:  CC is gong to run the stairs and do the drills so he can let everyone know exactly what it's like to run the stairs and do the drills.  And not from some distant memory.  CC is our direct connection to the game.  And he's got the verbiage to prove it.  Deuces, homey.

Mort and Schefter:  Mort and Shefter have been exiled to the ship from 2001: A Space Oddessey with an apparently endless supply of Blackberrys.  With the help of HAL 9000 not even the tiniest tidbit of NFL "news" goes unreported (like the news that Peyton Manning has still not be released by the Colts.  But it could happen at absolutely any minute so stay tuned because if you don't, you might know 2.5 seconds after that guy down the hall who follows Shefter on twitter).  This can only end with one of them dying from Blackberry-related blunt force trauma.

Chris Berman:  He's kind of a big deal.  People know him.  He's very important.  He has many leather-bound books.  And you're with him, leather.  Boomer is the real life Ron Burgundy.

(As an added bonus, the open also features the rock stylings of 137-year old Joe Walsh.  Presumably to bring in the youth audience.  The song is the aptly-named "Funk # 50" (because its so damn funky).  For anyone unfamiliar with early 70's tracks by The James Gang tracks, "Funk #50" is the sequel to, you guessed it, "Funk #49.")

Super Bowl Review - A Legacy Secured

Sometimes miracles do happen.
Tom Coughlin smiles.

So, yeah.  That really happened.  The Giants won the goddamn Super Bowl.  An event like that cannot go unblogged.  Here are 10 thoughts on Super Bowl 46.

A Win For the Ages (and the fans).  While players play for a million different reasons, money, pride, respect and even sometimes winning, fans give way too much of themselves for one reason - to be a part of something special.  Something memorable.  And as we wrote a few weeks ago, winning this Super Bowl was legacy-making.  And for as much as that probably mattered players it was equally important to the fans.  We wanted it so we could feel like we were around for a special era of Giant football.  And, as rarely happens in sports, it actually worked out.  Now, no matter what happens from here, ten years from now when Coughlin has been fired and Eli has suffered the indignity of being benched and forced into an ugly exit, we'll still all be able to talk about the two times the Giants beat the mighty Patriots in the Super Bowl.  That shit is priceless.

It was just like 2007 ... 

The parallels have been discussed and dissected to an almost Tebow-like level, starting all the way back on the first Sunday in December when the Packers left town looking somewhat less than invincible.  Even the game smelled similar - lower scoring than expected, a potentially rattled Tom Brady, a huge N.Y. drive for the go-ahead score courtesy of tremendous catch, and a last ditch heave that was just off the mark.  It's so close its tempting to call it a match.  But its not.  

.. but it wasn't.  

For all the similarities in the run, these teams couldn't have been more different.  The 2007 version was built on a running game, a fantastic offensive line and a blitzing attacking defense.  And for much of the time it seemed like they were winning in spite of their shaky quarterback play.  For as much as that run is remembered as Eli's coming of age, the the entire tie was that he was always one play away from screwing it all up.  We can still remember sitting there watching the NFC Championship game at Lambeau and, in between expressions of concerns for the well being of Tom Coughlin's face, slowly coming to the realization that Eli was playing well and holding his own against the Dongslinger.  At that moment it felt real.  

This year, the team was all about Eli.  The line was suspect.  The running game, non-existent.  And the defense got better the less aggressive it tried to be.  But only constant was the quarterback.  If the 2007 title was Strahan's and Tuck's and O'Hara's.  2011 was Eli's.  

Sequel < Original.

Yes, we know the end result was fantastic.  But the process to get there was a little ... boring.  Blasphemy, we know.  And hard to justify in a game that featured a safety, two 80+ yard drives, and neither team leading by more than 9 points.  But until the last five minutes, it kind of a snoozefest.  Perhaps Simmons said it best but the game played out just like a bad movie sequel - same plot, same scenes, just slightly tweaked with a new supporting cast.  2007 was epic, a game and an upset for the ages.  2011 was Batman Returns.  

Rarer Than Rare.


No fan base in recent memory went into a game with arrogance despite their team being the underdog, facing the best quarterback of a generation and a team with 3 titles under its belt, than Giants fans.  It worked out.  But the expectations were scary.  Two of the more memorable runs in history in under five years, can do that to a fan base.  Make them spoiled.  So much so that the next time the Giants limp through a regular season and into the playoffs, everyone is going to expect it to happen again.  Like it's destiny.  But this shit doesn't happen.  Ever.  So enjoy it while it lasts.

Halftime!!

Madonna is old.  That is all.  Well, not quite all.  It wasn't nearly as inhumane as last year's Black Eyed Peas good-sense genocide; however, she came off much more like an in-shape Betty White than a legendary performer.  MIA may have stolen the headlines with her finger, but Esther's knees were much more concerning.  She was walking like someone on rocks without shoes.  Speaking of depressingly aging stars, maybe she should try some joint juice.

Eli is now the official King of All Things Intangible ... 

Tebow, who?  Eli is now the embodiment of everything you want in your favorite quarterback but can't measure.  Brees and Rodgers will have all the stats but, for now at least, Eli holds the "Clutch Belt."  Suddenly, and oh so predictably, the everything hateable about him is now the reason he succeeds.  His quite demeanor is now "coolness under pressure" and "poise."  He's the clutchiest clutch guy ever.  He's always been that way, of course, it was just hidden behind that goofy exterior.  Everything is wonderful.

... but prepare for the Eli Manning backlash


Yes, it's entirely possible that this year will come to represent the new baseline for Eli.  That he'll continue to be cool and clutch while putting up 4500+ yard seasons.  And that he'll never really struggle again.  It's not like its unprecedented for a guy to make his reputation as a winner and start putting up big numbers around age 30

History Works Itself Out.

A lot was made in two weeks leading up to the game about how if Brady won his 4th Super Bowl he would become the best quarterback of all time.  Right now, he's very much in the conversation.  But it's just that, a conversation.  Sports rarely makes things easy for us and debates over who's best are rarely clean.  Before Sunday you could have argued he's the greatest ever.  Thankfully, though, Brady settled the argument by making it clear he's not the best ever.  The best quarterback ever makes that throw to Welker (or at least the one to Branch).  And the best quarterback ever doesn't take an awful intentional grounding for a safety.  Or find himself completely unable to move the ball save for two excellent drives.  The best quarterback ever finds a way to get those first downs to close out the game.  But most of all, the best quarterback ever doesn't lose twice in the Super Bowl to the same underdog.  The best quarterback ever isn't Tom Brady.  At least not yet.   

The Genius Has Still Got It ... 

On the field at least.  The Pats game plan was terrifically effective.  They went all-in on the prevent defense  and kept the Giants from making their signature big plays while constantly double-teaming (and the apparently legal during the post season mugging of Victor Cruz) and basically daring Eli to run the ball and throw underneath.  For the first half, at least, the Giants played right into his hands.  Eli put the ball in the hands of Pascoe, Ballard and even Hynoski - guys guaranteed not to break one - and occasionally forced the ball downfield to Nicks.  The Giants were mostly efficient but as a result of having to run so many plays ended up making enough mistakes (or perhaps getting jobbed by holding calls) to kill their drives without giving up touchdowns.  It worked all the way until the fourth quarter when the Giants went 3-wide and getting Manningham into the game proved to be the difference.  

On offense, the short passing game kept the pressure off Brady but, save for two drives when he looked unstoppable, Brady couldn't move the team consistently.  If the Giants had adjusted more quickly to Gronk's status as a decoy (he could apparently dance but not run) it might have been even worse.

... on the field at least.

Imagine how well those incredible game plans would have worked if the Pats had some good players.  Belichick certainly deserves credit for pulling guys off waivers, or the practice squad or the kitchen at Red Lobster.  But none of it would be necessary if he didn't blow so many draft picks.  Years of turning first round picks into later picks and missing have caught up to them.  It's never easy but the degree of difficulty in the later rounds must be higher than the first.  It's time for the Pats to invest in the now and get some blue-chippers before it's too late.  

The (New?) State of Rutgers Football

When we got back to our desk after a meeting last Thursday, we did what everyone does when they first get back to their desk - logged onto gmail and hoped to find something from someone to make our always boring day more interesting.  We were not disappointed.  At the top of our email list was this:


To:  Us
From: A Man With No ACLs
Subject:  Schiano to Bucs


??? Did you see this coming?


Um...no.  We immediately scoured the Internet to see if it was true.  The initial reports said it was imminent.  Still, we hoped for another Chip Kelly.  But it wasn't to be.  A two hours of not doing any work, we saw that the news was confirmed: Greg Schiano had left Rutgers to become head coach of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.  As the news sunk in, all we could think was the Rutgers football had died.  Died of a broken heart.  

Just kidding.  No self-respecting person could ever think something so comically melodramatic.  Unless, of course, you're the type of person who uses three consecutive Top 10 picks on wide receivers.  Then you say those types of things.  And your team goes 0-16.  But enough of that.  To quote the great Snoop Doggy Dogg, back to the lecture at hand.

No, instead of thinking in terrible ESPN soundbites, what we were really thinking was, what shitty timing.  That's it.  We weren't devastated. Or confused.  Or sad.  Or even concerned about the long term future of the program.  No, we were happy for him but bummed that it had to happen a week before signing day.  And that says pretty much all you need to know about the Schiano-era.

Like most fans who came of age during Terry Shea's reign of terror (with terror being reigned on things like wins and competitive football), we liked and appreciated Schiano.  And for good reason.  We all know the accolades - 56-33 since 2005,  5 Bowl Wins, a slew of solid to good NFL players, some terrific defenses, and one really special season that gave the school its first "Sports Center moment."  If we were giving the eulogy for his time at Rutgers, we'd focus on the fact that we was a very good coach and an even better program builder.  And we'd discuss how he deserves all the credit he gets for doing the yeoman's work of taking a team ranked 112 out of 112 teams three years before his arrival to what we have today.

But ultimately, his biggest accomplishment was taking the program from obscurity to mediocrity.  His success was, of course, relative.  The memory of 0-12 can make a win in the Texas or Pinstripe Bowl feel like a national title.  But poor offensive game planning, some bad recruiting decisions and inconsistent quarterback play meant that the program never build on what was supposed to be its breakthrough in 2006.   Maybe it wasn't all his fault but it all happened on his watch.  Had Tom Savage stayed and become something close to what was expected (and allowed us to wear our "Macho Man" Tom Savage costume), would they have won the Big East this year?  We'll never know what could have been if those years weren't lost.  And we'll also never know if he could have accomplished with Gary Nova, Brandon Coleman and Jamison/Huggins what he couldn't with Mike Teel, Kenny Britt and company.  

Despite that reality, it's understandable that people would freak.  Mediocrity is comfortable.  It's easy and it doesn't hurt.  Go to work, hang out with friends, or attend a family party and you'll find at least one person who is basking in their averageness.  Change is scary.  7-9 wins and a bowl isn't.  Fans are scarred and desperate not to go back.  The fear of another Terry Shea made the whole thing seem a lot worse.

But just like Schiano was offered an opportunity, so was Rutgers.  Schiano may have taken the program as far as he could.  And the school was given a chance to move forward, without having to suffer through the the decline normally associated with most coaching changes.  It was just that the pesky timing thing intervened.  Rutgers didn't have time to be bold.  They couldn't conduct an exhaustive search for the white whale of college football - The Next Big Coach, the man who starts as a nobody but leaves as a legend.  

So they did what they could.  They made a quick strong run at one candidate, the one we liked best from their short list, Mario Cristobal.  Unfortunately, after looking into his cristobal and seeing his future as coach of The U, he declined.  Bad news.  But, instead of panicking, they did the sensible thing and crawled back to their interim coach, Kyle Flood, with a five year deal.  They opted for continuity and stability.  

(For the record, our ideal choice for a head coach would be Herm Edwards.  In the college game, his shortcomings as an NFL coach would be minimized.  If you surrounded him with a strong staff of play callers, he could focus on what he does best - motivating players.  Plus we have no doubt he could recruit.  Who says no to Herm Fucking Edwards.  Hello?  His connections to the area through his time with the Jets and Eagles would be gravy.  Even this year, he could have walked off the set of whatever ESPN debacle he's on, kept the staff in tact and closed the shit out of the recruiting class.)  

And for now, it worked.  Rutgers landed Darius Hamilton, another in the now yearly line of best recruits in school history, and managed to pull together a consensus Top 25 recruiting class.  While it looked like a nice parting gift from the old coach, what it really showed was that on some level (even when you account for the difficulty in players changing commitments at the 11th hour) Rutgers was able to sell itself as a program and a brand and not just a coach.  The staff, including the deputized AD Tim Pernetti, could tell players that, while the coach may have changed, the philosophy and the commitment to doing things a certain way won't. With that, a "Rutgers Way" could have been established. 

With the talent on the roster, barring a complete coaching debacle, they shouldn't fall off much in the short term.  It's keeping the momentum that will be the trick.  Make no mistake though, despite his contract (a pure recruiting tool) Flood is still slightly interim and they won't be afraid to make a move at the first sign of trouble.

For now, despite a big scare, the state of Rutgers Football remains mediocre.  Only time will tell where it goes from here.