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Saeth29

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    Game Day Thread - Mike McCarthy's Big Dumb Mouth vs The Legend of Taylor Heinicke

    in The Stadium

    Posted

    2 minutes ago, NoCalMike said:

    On that strip sack play, Heinicke had either Dyami or Curtis Samuel wide open running across middle of field for likely an east 1st down.  Not sure if he didn't see him or was looking for a bigger play to make.  Have to make those throws.  No defender was on him, you make that anticipation throw and someone is going for 20 yards.

    See my post a few up from this one.  He had to wait in them because they picked each other 

    Game Day Thread - Mike McCarthy's Big Dumb Mouth vs The Legend of Taylor Heinicke

    in The Stadium

    Posted · Edited by Saeth29

    4 minutes ago, bh32 said:

    Bull****..he holds the ball to damn long

    That sack/fumble was not the QBs fault.  It was either bad play design, or horrible route running.  

    These guys circled are essentially throwing a pick on each other. Meanwhile,  Heinecke's waiting for somebody to complete their route so he can throw the damn ball.

    PXL_20211212_185018787~2.jpg

    • Like 2
    • Sad 1

    Heinicke Hive: The LEGEND of Taylor Heinicke Thread

    in The Stadium

    Posted

    11 minutes ago, CapsSkins said:

    Heinicke played better last week than Brees is playing tonight. That's a fact.

    My wife just said the same thing and she's barely paid attention to any of the games this year.  It's clear that Heinicke has a huge grasp on this offense and could be special if he's given a chance and they build around him.

    • Like 3

    A New Start! (the Reboot) The Front Office, Ownership, & Coaching Staff Thread

    in The Stadium

    Posted

    Not sure where else to post this from The Athletic.  Hope it's not too long to post.. but thought it was a good read on RR's battles this year:

    Quote

    About seven months after becoming the coach of the Washington Football Team, Ron Rivera was shaving and he noticed a lump on his neck. As he turned his head, he felt soreness. Must be a summer cold coming on, he thought.

    And then he put it out of his mind.

    He and his wife Stephanie returned to their California roots for a vacation. They visited with family and friends and golfed. When he returned to work, one week before the start of training camp, the lump remained.

    Team doctor Anthony Casolaro told him to keep an eye on it. A week later, after training camp started, it hadn’t changed. Casolaro took Rivera for a scan, and the results were concerning. A biopsy followed.

    Within 10 minutes, Casolaro spoke words that make all others seem insignificant.

    “You have cancer.”

    What Rivera quickly realized was his diagnosis would affect many besides himself. His first responsibility was telling Stephanie and their children Christopher, 34, and Courtney, 27. Casolaro volunteered to accompany Rivera home to explain the ramifications. The good news, Casolaro told them, was the cancer was detected early, and the disease — squamous cell cancer in a lymph node — was treatable. The bad news was the treatment would be harsh.

    The phone call Rivera dreaded was to his parents. Rivera had lost his older brother Mickey to pancreatic cancer, and he didn’t want his mom and dad to go through it again. His mother Dolores was understandably triggered, but he was able to calm her.

    As Rivera spoke with his father Eugenio, he realized Eugenio had knowledge about the treatment his son would be receiving. Son asked father how he knew about it, and father made an admission: Eugenio had a similar treatment for prostate cancer, which traced to when Agent Orange exposure during the Vietnam war. But Eugenio never told his children until he learned about Ron’s cancer.

    The next concern was his team, and his world at large. After Rivera talked with team owner Dan Snyder and media relations director Sean DeBarbieri, the decision was made to tell the team after an evening walk-through, and then make a public statement.

    Standing in the middle of a circle of his players, Rivera said, “I wanted to let you guys know because you are going to hear it from all over, and I want you to hear it directly from me. I have a form of cancer. It invaded one of my lymph nodes. I will be undergoing proton therapy treatments and chemotherapy for seven weeks. I’m going to lose weight and be fatigued. They tell me it’s good to keep working, but there may be times when I can’t.”

    Stunned looks. Hugs. Back pats. Fist bumps. Encouraging words.

    Running backs coach Randy Jordan led the team in prayer. Linebacker Thomas Davis, who had been with Rivera on the Panthers, asked to pray one-on-one with him. Davis asked that his coach would have the strength to fight through the process, and for a full recovery.

    The team released a statement about Rivera’s cancer, and hundreds of texts lit up his phone. Then came calls, emails, cards, and notes. Some friends reached out every day. Rivera heard from people from every stop on his life’s path, from his childhood in Seaside, California, to Berkeley where he was an All-American at Cal, to the Chicago Bears where he played nine years and was part of what many consider the greatest defense of all-time, to his days as “Coach Rivera” with the Eagles, Bears, Chargers and Panthers. He even was contacted by people he didn’t know, like Rams special teams coach John Bonamego, who is in his fifth year of remission from squamous cell carcinoma.

    A lot was happening. There was so much to process. Emotions were running high.

    The emotion that ran highest was indignation. “I was really angry about it,” he says, like the former linebacker he is. “It really pissed me off.”

    After all, how could he heal a team that finished 3-13 the year before when he needed healing himself?

    When Rivera was a rookie linebacker on the Bears 36 years ago, defensive coordinator Buddy Ryan told him he reminded him of the Freddie Prinze character Chico from the television show “Chico and The Man.” So Rivera, who is of Puerto Rican and Mexican descent, became “Chico” to his teammates and friends.

    Rivera, proud of his ethnicity, always considered it as a tribute to his heritage.

    It was with that same spirit that he considered the name Redskins. “I was actually a Redskins fan growing up because of Chris Hanburger,” Rivera says. “I just loved him. I followed him. Charley Taylor worked with my dad in the army, so I followed him. I had a friend from my hometown area who played here, LeCharls McDaniel, and he was somebody I looked up to. Initially, I was opposed to a name change. … You name your team after things you honor, that you think are special. But the deeper we got into this, the more I realized how sensitive an issue it was.”

    While reading The Real All-Americans by Washington Post columnist Sally Jenkins in the offseason, Rivera began to reconsider his position. The book is about the Carlisle Indian School’s football team in the early 1900s, and it made him more appreciative of the plight of Native Americans.

    At the end of June, Washington owner Dan Snyder told Rivera he was thinking of changing the team name. Rivera said he thought it was a good idea.  Shortly after, team sponsors including Nike, FedEx, and PepsiCo threatened to end their associations unless Snyder stopped calling his team the Redskins. On July 3, Snyder told Rivera he had decided to change the name. It was Rivera who was left to explain the matter publicly.

    Previously in June, Rivera realized he needed to address the team in light of the social unrest stemming from the killing of George Floyd. Ten days later, Rivera received an email from an administrative employee of the team saying he was very disappointed that Rivera did not address the entire organization. Rivera subsequently set up a series of town hall meetings with more than 200 administrative employees in which he took the blame for not being more proactive about the matter.

    “We didn’t have a president,” Rivera says of Washington, who since has hired Jason Wright for the role. “We didn’t have a G.M. I was the voice. That was the first mistake I learned from. I apologized.”

    Rivera also was the voice for questions on the Washington Post story about 15 former female Washington employees alleging they were sexually harassed on the job between 2006 and 2019.

    Earlier in the offseason, it had been up to Rivera to make the difficult decisions to trade disgruntled eight-time Pro Bowler Trent Williams, and to cut 2018 second-round pick Derrius Guice after a domestic violence arrest.

    And then on top of everything came cancer, the worst chapter in a what-else-could-go-wrong? beginning.

    A calendar on a greaseboard in the office of Washington football operations director Paul Kelly noted each of Rivera’s 35 proton therapy treatments and three chemotherapy treatments. Five days before Rivera’s first game as head coach of his new team, he had his first of each.

    ElRhY3mXYAccqzC.jpeg

    After he received chemo from an IV, Rivera’s head and shoulders were locked onto a stainless steel table — with a loud click — so he could not move. A custom-made mesh mask covered his face as a machine rotated about 12 inches above him, delivering the radiation that was supposed to heal. The hour or so he was clamped on the table seemed like several. When he was released, he stood, or tried to. He shook uncontrollably, his face reddened, and he had to sit. Eventually, the anxiety passed.

    It would return, though.

    One week later, Rivera returned for his second proton treatment. As soon as he was locked onto the table, he couldn’t breathe. His throat went dry. He called the proton therapists with the stress signal he had been taught. He was released from the table.

    After calming down, he tried again. But as soon as he heard the click, he started to feel anxious. So he did what he does best: he coached. He told himself, “OK, body, let’s go. This is for your own good. We’re here to kick cancer’s ass. When those protons start hitting, send those white blood cells over, and let’s get after it.”

    It became his routine for every treatment.

    As a player, Rivera rode the bench for 44 games before getting his first start. It wasn’t because he was incapable. It was because he played behind superstars Mike Singletary, Wilber Marshall and Otis Wilson. In his first game, he was named NFC defensive player of the week. Later in his life, he was fired as Bears defensive coordinator after making it to the Super Bowl and allowing the third-fewest points in the NFL.

    The point is, he is a man who understands how to separate what can be controlled from what cannot be.

    Some things, like fatigue, would not be controlled. “It was like having a 300-pound gorilla draped over you,” he says. “I’d go to walk, and I’d feel heavy. I’d lift my head, and my neck would feel heavy. My shoulders would drop.”

    He tried to yell at practice but didn’t have the strength. He had to move close to players so he didn’t exert himself by raising his voice.

    Since Rivera needed a few naps every day, Kelly moved a recliner in his office and requested couches in Rivera’s offices at every stadium they visited. Rivera never has been very good at putting up barriers to keep people away, so Kelly, whose office is connected to Rivera’s, served as gatekeeper to make sure the coach had his rest.

    One month after his treatment began, energy was a memory for Rivera. “I’m like ‘Coach, go home, what are you doing?'” defensive coordinator Jack Del Rio says.

    Rivera usually had nothing left by dinner time, so he went home, where he’d watch an episode of The Big Bang Theory, his favorite show, and be asleep by 8:30.

    On Oct. 6, after Rivera’s second treatment, his white blood count was low. It was an off day for players, but Davis was there for treatment and he saw Rivera entering the back door to the training room, “literally being brought in on his wife’s shoulder and (head athletic trainer Ryan Vermillion’s) shoulder.” Rivera was there to receive hydration intravenously, but he wouldn’t stay. Stephanie and Vermillion helped him to his car, and Stephanie drove him home.

    All Rivera wanted to do was sleep. His throat was raw, so swallowing was painful, and food didn’t taste right. Eating had no appeal. But he had already lost about 25 pounds and was on his way to losing another 11. He had been told he needed to consume more than usual because the therapy was revving his metabolism, and his body was burning more calories than usual.

    Stephanie made chicken noodle soup and pleaded with him. No, he wasn’t interested. Casolaro called. Doctor’s orders were to do whatever necessary to eat. Rivera dragged himself to the dinner table and just sat there as his soup got cold. Courtney begged him to eat until she became too upset, then left the room. Taho, the family Golden Retriever, nudged him with his nose, then walked away. Then Sierra, their lab/pitbull mix, gave him one of those looks.  Rivera slipped her a piece of his toast, and she walked away.

    Now it was just Rivera and his soup.

    He forced down the bowl.

    That was his lowest point.

    Eating, though, would remain a challenge.

    Sometimes, Stephanie’s chicken noodle soup was delicious. Other times, he couldn’t stomach it. Anything acidic, like ketchup, felt like alcohol on an open cut going down his throat. Vanilla and bacon had no flavor.

    For a while, bottled water tasted like ocean water. He tried pineapple juice, apple juice, pear juice, and Gatorade. All of it tasted metallic.

    Stephanie tried mixing about 10 different kinds of protein powders in his meals. What appealed to him most was a breakfast of two pancakes or a waffle, drenched in syrup to help him swallow, and a lunch of a ground beef taco with lettuce, tomato, cheese, and sour cream — no hot sauce — from Taco Bell.

    Rivera had to rinse with a concoction of water, baking soda, and salt frequently throughout the day to avoid getting sores in his mouth. Stephanie prepared bottles of the rinse and marked them with an X so no one besides her husband would take a swig. She also prepared packets of his medicines, between 10 and 12 pills, depending on the point of the cycle and time of the day.

    A cancer like Rivera’s can be as taxing on the family as the victim. Courtney cared for him well and often was his driver. Christopher flew in to be with the family to help out during a rough time.

    Stephanie has been by his side since they met at a frozen yogurt shop on the Cal campus when both were student-athletes. She has worn his ring for 36 years. His care became her life. Just before Ron’s final chemo treatment, he was home alone, thinking about all of the sacrifices Stephanie had made, and how lost he would have been without her. He broke down.

    He felt a similar emotional swell once when sitting in his office. He turned around and looked at the picture on the wall of him, his father, and his three brothers. His eyes were drawn to Mickey, who passed away five years earlier.

    He had thought of Mickey often during his ordeal. But this was different.

    Why him and not me?

    The only answers for some questions are tears.

    At 5:45 in the morning on Oct. 7, the day after Rivera’s worst day, he stepped into the shower. He stayed in the shower for about 30 minutes because the water on his neck was soothing, and one of his only physical pleasures.

    As he dried himself, Rivera realized he felt better than he did the previous day.

    This was an end. And a beginning.

    He went to work, called quarterback Dwayne Haskins into his office, and told him he was replacing him in the starting lineup with Kyle Allen. Washington was 1-3 and Haskins had been ineffective. Moreover, Haskins wasn’t comporting himself like a pro.

    The narrative about his team was that it was rebuilding, and this was a long-term project. But Rivera, who had been forced to consider his own mortality because of his illness, said he felt obligated to take a shot at short-term glory. When you have cancer, he learned, it’s a day-to-day life.

    At the time Washington was a half a game behind the Eagles for first place in the NFC East. “Nobody was running away with the division,” the 58-year-old says. “So why not take a shot and see what happens?”

    Rivera has control of Washington’s roster. He could have drafted quarterbacks Justin Herbert or Tua Tagovailoa with the second pick of the April draft.  He took defensive end Chase Young, the probable defensive rookie of the year, and gave Haskins, the 15th pick of the previous draft, a chance.

    “Without having the beginnings of OTAs, what I went off of in terms of Dwayne was … he started four of their last games and was solid, made good decisions,” Rivera says. “He’s got a really good arm, he really does. He’s got a lot to learn because the style of offense he played in college really doesn’t translate into the NFL as much. So we didn’t need to make a quarterbacking decision.”

    It had been a poorly kept secret that Haskins was drafted because of Snyder. When Rivera told Snyder he was benching Haskins, Snyder told him, “I support you. “Whatever you think is best for us, you go ahead and do.”

    Said Rivera, “It was never really about, ‘Hey Ron, you need to play this guy,'” Rivera says. “That’s never happened, and people need to understand that.”

    One of the reasons Rivera was drawn to Washington was Snyder offered a “coach-centric” arrangement in which the head coach had control over football operations. Their honeymoon has gone the way honeymoons should. They talk about every other day. “His first question never was, ‘How’s the team?'” Rivera says. “It was, ‘How do you feel? How were the treatments?  What did the doctor tell you?’ We spent five or 10 minutes every day talking about it.”

    Snyder, a survivor of thyroid cancer, was supportive beyond what could be expected. The team traveled to Phoenix two days before their first road game against the Cardinals, but Rivera’s medical team thought he should fly the day before the game. Snyder arranged for Rivera and Stephanie to travel on his private plane.

    Football coaches often like to be in charge of everything, but cancer taught Rivera to depend on others.

    Rivera’s final treatment was on October 26. As Rivera gained strength in November, his team began playing better. Washington won four straight and took over first place in the division.

     

    The arc of Washington’s season followed the arc of Rivera’s cancer fight, and to Washington linebacker Jared Norris, it was not mere coincidence. “I think it was symbolic in terms of him progressing and us getting better,” he says. “Everybody had something to push through.”

    Rivera had become more than the man with the whistle around his neck. He became an inspiration, their inspiration. Davis says the more Rivera has been around, the harder his players have wanted to work and compete.

    “There is some correlation of him stubbornly going through it, working at it, not giving up, fighting the whole time,” Del Rio says of Rivera, who missed only three practices and didn’t miss a game. “It’s kind of what we’ve embraced as a team and learned about ourselves. There are a lot of young players that are learning what it looks like to be a man and fight a good fight … And the guy’s a fighter. He’s a tough sucker now. He’s one tough hombre.”

    Even though the coach and his team were revitalized, the challenges kept coming. The black cloud from the sexual harassment accusations never left, and last week the Post reported Snyder paid a former employee accusing sexual misconduct $1.6 million in a confidential settlement in 2009.

    Allen lasted only four games at quarterback before suffering a season-ending ankle injury. He was replaced by Alex Smith, who started five games before a calf injury forced him to miss the last two. Haskins became a starter again, but then he partied at a private venue and was photographed without a mask. Rivera subsequently stripped him of his captaincy and fined him $40,000.

    Haskins still appeared to have value in the short term and long. That changed this week. Haskins was benched in the fourth quarter of a loss to the Panthers after throwing two interceptions and leading the offense to only six points. After the game, Haskins left the stadium instead of participating in a Zoom press conference. Rivera spent about 90 minutes on the situation Sunday night, and eventually, Haskins spoke to the media from his home. It was another in a string of issues with Haskins.

    That night, Rivera told Snyder he had enough, and Snyder backed his coach. On Monday, Haskins was released. “He probably has to hit rock bottom before he figures it out,” Rivera says. “This will help him if he learns from it.”

    Now Washington has to beat the Eagles on Sunday night to win the East and make the playoffs. If they do, Rivera, who has overcome more adversity than anyone, will be a coach of the year candidate.

    Rivera has regained about nine pounds. Water doesn’t taste funny anymore.  His voice is thinner and tinnier than it was because his vocal cords are swollen. Doctors have told him to expect to develop a jowl soon because his glands will be draining. He still is more tired than usual, and gets brain fog at times.

    He will know more after a PET scan in January, but thus far, his treatment appears to have done what it was supposed to do.

    On the right side of Rivera’s neck is a scar about the shape and size of a small tangerine. On the left side is another mark that appears to be fading. They are the souvenirs of the radiation that literally burned holes in him.

    Scars, it turns out, can be liberating.

    Rivera is not depleted anymore. And he’s not angry, either.

    “I’m glad I went through it, and I’m getting stronger,” he says. “I have an appreciation now for the little things. I have an appreciation for people.”

    He also has an appreciation for comprehensive health care. Rivera has been outspoken about the lack of a federally funded medical insurance program. He would like to advocate for those who do not have coverage.

    If the dreams that Ron Rivera dreams come true, his cancer battle could lead to a more efficient health care system.

    To say nothing of a healed coach and a healed team.

     

    • Like 4
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    **** the Cowboys

    in Around the NFL

    Posted

    On 11/24/2020 at 10:18 AM, Cooleyfan1993 said:

    Wonder what it is....

    I just saw an article that their Strength and Conditioning coach has died due to a medical emergency at the Cowboys facility.. sad to hear, especially this time of year.  

    The Random Thought Thread (Stadium Edition)

    in The Stadium

    Posted · Edited by Saeth29

    4 hours ago, jschuck12001 said:

    Some familiar names in the top sack leaders.


    TACKLES    SACKS    INTERCEPTIONS    FUMBLES
    RK   PLAYER                  TEAM    AST    TOTAL    COMB    SACK    YDSL    FF   

    3    Brian Orakpo, LB      TEN       4          14           18          7.0        52        0    

    6    Trent Murphy, DE     WSH      9          11            20         5.0         26       2    

    10   Ryan Kerrigan, LB   WSH      2         12            14         4.5         29        1    

     

    While Orakpo does have more sacks (he was always pretty good getting at the QB, when healthy), he still doesn't seem to cause that "big play".  For example, with higher total in sacks, he still doesn't have any forced fumbles.  This was always one of my major gripes with him, he never had that game changing type of play.

    Meanwhile, our two sack leading players (both in the top 10 of sacks) have shown that ability for potential game changing type of play.   Murphy has 2 forced fumbles, while Kerrigan has 1.  

    Draft Simulator Makes YOU the GM....Try your hand at selecting players for the Skins!

    in The Stadium

    Posted · Edited by Saeth29

    Without any real research on 2016 prospects:
     
    Your score is: 7808 (GRADE: A)

    Your Picks:
    Round 1 Pick 21: Reggie Ragland, ILB, Alabama (A)
    Round 2 Pick 22: Jalen Mills, FS/CB, LSU (B+)
    Round 3 Pick 21: Nick Martin, C, Notre Dame (A+)
    Round 4 Pick 30 (BALT): Aaron Burbridge, WR, Michigan State (A+)
    Round 5 Pick 19: Adam Gotsis, DT/DE, Georgia Tech (B )
    Round 6 Pick 7: Deiondre' Hall, CB, Northern Iowa (A+)
    Round 6 Pick 15 (L.A.): Braxton Miller, WR, Ohio State (A+)
    Round 6 Pick 22 (T.B.): Anthony Zettel, DE, Penn State (B+)
    Round 7 Pick 11: Briean Boddy-Calhoun, CB, Minnesota (A+)
    Round 7 Pick 21: Eric Mac Lain, OG, Clemson (B-)
    Round 7 Pick 31 (PHI): Byron Marshall,, WR/RB, Oregon (B+)

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