Week six
The game: Cowboys at Patriots
The beer: Berkshire Oktoberfest Lager
The result: Win, 20–16
The commentary: I think it’s going to be a Berkshire-heavy season—six weeks in and I’m already onto a second offering. My team’s won five of six games, though, and even if I’m not superstitious (very much) I’m not going to buck that. I’ve got a third in the fridge that’s ready to go in an emergency anyway. In fact, the only way I would lay off additional Berkshires is if I’ve accumulated so many bombers over the past couple of months that I might already be able to finish out the regular season. And if you think I’m shopping ahead for an anticipated playoff run after what happened last year with the (gulp) Shabadoo then you know nothing about football either.

The Oktoberfest was nice. I’m pretty sure it was included in that beer dinner I attended a couple of months ago and, if so, none of the three of us was overly impressed for some reason. Possibly it only works its magic in October or something, I don’t know. How would a pumpkin ale taste in March? Apparently like death. Anyway, here’s what I remember about the Cowboys game:

The Pats had no chance of losing, even when they were on their own twenty yard line and down three points with two-and-a-half minutes remaining. The only way Brady doesn’t march up the field against a suddenly scaredy-cat defense was if he’d been shot by the same sniper who earlier took down Gary Guyton during an attempt to tackle Dez Bryant.

Our defense performed “admirably” for the second week in a row because the idiot opposing head coaches decided not to target the horrible secondary with long passes. I can’t understand it, but I’ll take it.

Tony Romo is really, really awful. I enjoy the NFL Network’s Sound FX (formerly Mic’d Up), which recaps three games a week from players’ and/or coaches’ perspectives, and in teasing Patriots–Cowboys before going to commercial the narrator asked “Would Tony Romo be a superhero against the Patriots? Or would Tom Brady prove he’s the Man of Steel?” My infant daughter just rolled her eyes.

Week seven (bye)
The beer: Samuel Adams Boston Lager
The commentary: Stupid Jets. That’s two games they were let off the hook, the first being against (shocker!) pop group Tony & the Boys. I will not count out the Jets until they’re playing golf in January. People keep saying how much Sanchez sucks but I just don’t see it. He’s no Brady, Brees or Peyton-Corpse but he’s also no Romo, McNabb or Tebow. He’s won some big games and even looked good carrying the team on his back when clowns like Tomlinson suddenly take ill (loved the classic sideline shots of him feeling sorry for himself; if you aren’t motivated to shine against the team that gave up on you then maybe you should sulk away from the football field for the rest of your life). Maybe he’s expected to win games more easily with outstanding players like Keller and Holmes to target but he’s gone to two consecutive AFC title games. That’s not all on Sanchez but clearly he’s doing something right.

Speaking of quarterbacks, the thing I’m hearing from no one about the Colts is that Manning didn’t play defense. He did his best to keep them off the field and maybe that covered up the fact that they were never any good. But giving up fifty-five offensive points? Even the 2009 Pats weren’t as terrible against the Saints and the Saints went on to win the Super Bowl that year.

Before the Colts won in 2006/2007 I always questioned why they used top draft picks on offensive skill positions instead of on defense. Defense (and maybe a consistent running attack) was the reason they kept losing to the Pats and I just didn’t get it. Then it hit me: why not give your most outstanding player the tools to succeed? Manning doesn’t succeed with tough, versatile linebackers and safeties. Blue-chip receivers, uncoverable tight ends… that’s how you do it. Score! Score! Give up thirty points and still win. Score! Throw the ball, Peyton! Touchdown, Colts! Score! Turns out I was right. Not only did they not draft well on defense (very few exceptions) or use low-round picks to develop above-average backup quarterbacks but there is not one Peyton-is-down-what-do-we-do piece in place, coaching staff included.

I finally came to respect Peyton after he finally won a Super Bowl. He was the guy who got all the stats and made all the commercials and didn’t do shit in the playoffs. But the Super Bowl gave him credibility and turned Brady vs. Manning debates into balanced conversations, more Bird vs. Magic than Russell vs. Chamberlain. But the Colts team? I never respected the Colts team.

Crazed fans and media saying they should lie down the rest of the season, draft Andrew Luck (about whom I know nothing because I don’t watch college ball) and trade Peyton did the same thing in 2008 with “Trade Brady!” when he went down and Matt Cassel was playing pretty well. These are the same idiots who scream “Why do we always play the Colts in Indianapolis?!” (Patriot fans) or “Why do we always play the Patriots in Foxborough?!” (Colts fans) year after year. If the Colts follow through on this insanity, trading away or letting walk a once-in-a-lifetime quarterback and the few remaining stars (Mathis, Freeney, Wayne) while continuing to not sign impact free agents then they’re admitting to ten years of organizational failure.

On the opposite end of the success spectrum, most varieties of Sam Adams can stand up with any of the greats. The flagship lager is often the best beer available in a lot of the cookie-cutter Budweiser/Coors bars and restaurants in Massachusetts and for that reason it’s terribly underrated and under-appreciated. It is delicious. When I saw the large bottle of Boston Lager (perhaps very slightly smaller than twenty-two ounces) it was an opportunity to highlight my reliable old friend on a blog no one reads.

Sooner or later (probably next season) I’m going to have to loosen up and not restrict my football beers to bomber-size because I’ll have to start repeating selections or going whole-hog with particular brewers (hello Berkshire!). There just aren’t enough for less than $7 a bottle, particularly since I generally don’t like to represent someone more than once in a season (hello? Berkshire?) and I’d like to feature more non-regional ones. I was glad, then, to see Sam Adams cooperating last week—unless you want one of their double bocks or something, which are pretty expensive and harsh, they don’t seem to embrace the large format. Maybe it was my imagination but it even seemed to taste as good as it does out of a tap; anything might have, though, after bye-week chores like mowing the lawn and scrubbing the bathtub. I still trust it was genuinely good. Regardless, once I break down and start incorporating six-packs into my Sundays (maybe not entire six-packs) then I will leave the door open for good ole Sammy A-Damn (not an actual nickname) and welcome him, warmly, into my home.

Up next: The Pats travel to Heinz Field for one of my favorite games of the year, Let’s Watch Tom Brady Toy with the Steelers Bowl VII. In Pittsburgh they refer to it as Your Quarterback Is a Homo and Ours Is Not, as Demonstrated by a Pattern of Sexual Assaults Against Women Bowl III. Happy Halloween!