So the Jets lost Darrelle Revis to a strained hamstring late in the first half of the second game of the season and have played without him for the last two and a half games. How the team has fared against the pass with Revis and without him this year:
I know, I know -- Revis played Joe Flacco and Tom Brady in the first six quarters, and they've faced Brady (for two quarters), Chad Henne and Ryan Fitzpatrick in the last 10. But it's curious, at minimum, to see how the Jets were more generous against the pass with Revis playing than they've been with Revis out.
Starting at 4:10 p.m. Saturday, the Red Sox and Yankees played baseball for 11 hours, 27 minutes of the next 24 hours. In those three games, Brett Gardner of the Yankees faced 75 pitches.
Last week I told you how the 2008 Favre trade from Green Bay to the Jets netted the Packers Clay Matthews. This week brings the tale of the McNabb deal looking like it could be a good one for Philadelphia -- at least through the first quarter of the 2010 season, and it comes off a good observation from my friend at the Elias Sports Bureau, Alex Stern.
The Redskins traded two draft picks, including a 2010 second-rounder, to Philadelphia on April 4 for McNabb. This created space for the Eagles to hand the starting quarterback job to Kevin Kolb. And with the second-round pick, the 37th overall, Philadelphia took safety Nate Allen from South Florida.
In his first month on the job, Allen earned a starting safety job with the Eagles, got an interception in Games 1, 2 and 4, and a sack in Game 3. The NFL voted him NFC Defensive Rookie of the Month for September.
Though Kolb got concussed and then benched, the backup quarterback, Vick, brought on to the Eagles in 2009 after Andy Reid got the approval of several Eagles' execs and McNabb, played well enough in the first three games to be named NFC Offensive Player of the Month for September. With the injury to Vick Sunday, Kolb will almost certainly return to the starting lineup Sunday in San Francisco.
I won't say Philadelphia got the better of the deal, of course, not after McNabb waltzed back into town and won a very big game Sunday.
Here are three postscripts from a little Friday digging:
The Eagles have either a third- or fourth-round pick coming from Washington in the 2011 draft. If any of three events occur -- McNabb makes the Pro Bowl this year, the Redskins win nine or more games, or the Redskins make the playoffs -- it's a three. If not, it's a four.
Washington is committed to deal the third- or fourth-rounder not traded to Philadelphia as compensation in the deal to acquire tackle Jammal Brown from New Orleans. So if the second half of the McNabb deal is a fourth-round pick sent to Philly after the season, that means Washington will send its third-rounder to New Orleans.
You want to know why Washington wasn't aggressive in pursuit of Jackson when the Chargers dangled him in trade recently? Blame it on the McNabb deal.
Trading for McNabb, I believe, caused the Redskins to not deal for a receiver they very much need. The Redskins had a bare-bones draft last April, with only two picks in the top 170. Their second-, third- and fifth- had been dealt away or used (as in supplemental pick Jeremy Jarmon in the 2009 summer draft), and they weren't going to dump their second-rounder in 2011 and be left with one pick in the first 130 choices next April. Talking to sources in the organization, I learned that the 'Skins want to get away from the quick-fix mentality and start building for the long haul.
Standing in front of me Saturday afternoon in line outside the Legal Sea Foods Test Kitchen restaurant at Terminal A in Boston's Logan Airport was a couple, including a man with a navy sport coat and a U.S. Navy cap pulled down over his forehead. They asked for a table for two. The server nodded and took them to a table in the corner, where they put down their carry-ons, picked up the menu and sat undisturbed by a good crowd at the bar and restaurant focused on CNN and the Ryder Cup on the big screens in the place.
For 15 minutes, no one said a word to the guy, which really surprised me. Did no one notice the scar on his neck, the wry smile and, even with the hat pulled low, one of the most recognizable visages in America? Or were people just being nice and giving the man his space?
I'd be surprised if no one in the place knew John McCain was among them.
I came to a fork in the road in the middle of New Hampshire Saturday morning, orange- and red- and green-leafed trees on three sides of me, a half-hour into the New Hampshire Half-Marathon, and I saw this sign:
As in 10 miles. My God! Ten miles to go. For a 53-year-old sedentary person, that was a slap in the face if there ever was one. All the while, smart runners like Amby Burfoot had told me entering my first half-marathon to run my race, don't think too far ahead, don't try to run a faster pace than you're used to. But no one ever said, Don't let the road signs beat you. BRISTOL 10. What a dagger.
But I had lots of help right about then. My runner brother-in-law, Bob Whiteley, is funnier out on the racecourse than he is in real life, and he kept our six-man team pretty loose with a vivid (to put it mildly) story about, well, about his brother's loose bowels on a training run. My new Wounded Warrior friend, Jon Kuniholm, talked about his 90-something grandfather's love for Duke basketball and the story of getting the old man his first flat-screen TV to watch the Blue Devils. And my Montclair pals, Mike Goldstein and George Frole, kept it lively.
In other words, we ran through rural New Hampshire and past choppy Newfound Lake and by some of the best foliage you'll see, down hills and up, and I never felt like I was working very hard -- because I had friends with me having a conversation like we were sitting around having a few cold ones. In all, before we neared the finish line, there were 26 fans (I counted, and I may have counted one fellow in an Orioles cap twice) along the course cheering us on, so this was no New York City Marathon where the crowd carries you along. Team King carried me.
I had a little kick in the end, running the last mile in 9:31 (Prefontaine-esque for me), and I was stunned to be able to sprint pretty hard the last 200 yards. Our group finished in 2 hours, 19 minutes, 24 seconds. No records were broken, but my two goals were kept -- I ran the entire way (except for a 25-second relief stop in mile 8) and I didn't finish last. You can look it up:
A wonderful day. An absolute gift. A day I'll always remember with great fondness. On the way to my NBC gig in New York late Saturday afternoon, I sat thinking about what had been accomplished here. Three months ago, I was in middling condition, running a little and trying to get my weight down. Then this Ocho thing blew up and I opened my big mouth. I'm damn glad I did. Never would I have mustered up the endurance to run 13.1 miles. The side benefit is I came to realize how eminently doable a very hard physical task is. When I've watched runners most of my life, I've thought how out of reach what they were doing was. Saturday proved to me it's not.
Cool highlight: On the bus out to the starting line, I sat with a fellow from Tallahassee, Don Dietrich, who said he and his friends pick out a different place to go in the country every year; he runs a race there, and they tour the area, and this was their race this year, and the foliage was the attraction. He asked me my story, and I told him that I was a sports writer who'd called out Chad Ochocinco over a tweet last winter (see http://www.runpeterkingrun.com/ for the hackneyed story), and this race, in part, was my way of paying him back for calling him out. And the woman in the seat in front of us turned around and said, "You're the reason I'm running this race.'' Whoa!
"My husband reads your column,'' Lauren Jensen said, "and he saw you were running here, and I was looking for a race to run, so he suggested this one. We're going apple-picking after the race.''
Lauren Jensen, by the way, wiped the racecourse with me. I saw her jet away at the starting line, and didn't see her again 'til she introduced me to her husband, Mike, after the race.
And so it ends -- but I hope your generosity doesn't. I have many people to thank for their support in the last few weeks. You, readers of this column and my Twitter feed, woundedwarriorproject.org and feedthechildren.org, have helped raise more than $20,000 for two worthy causes (with more coming in this final week, I hope). I'll have final totals for you next Monday, but there's still time to contribute at www.runpeterkingrun.com.
I'd like to thank the sponsors of the run, Under Armour and Harpoon Brewery, and the town of Bristol, N.H., which put on such a fun half-marathon (and 10K and full marathon, too), and Jon Kuniholm for coming from North Carolina, and my four other partners in the race, including my trainer Roberto Portocarrero, who makes difficult things happen, and my wife, Ann, for making the best pre-race meal ever made in a Residence Inn: pasta with her simple and wonderful basil-tomato sauce, swordfish and chicken breast, salad with a delicious vinaigrette, and sugar-free blueberry-raspberry Italian crostada.
And thanks to NBC for surreptitiously videotaping my feeble stretch run and stunning me with it on "Football Night in America'' Sunday. That was ... really weird to see, and I'm sure the nation would agree. I am grateful for the participation of all of you in the first half-marathon of my life.
But not the last.