Justin Robert Young's Throw Down A Tarp

College Football & Freshman TV Shows: A Retarded, Complex Metaphor

College football teams and television shows in their first season share a lot in common. To wit…

- You have to start fast and build momentum. Even if you don’t blow out your first opponent (have an incredible pilot) you need to establish a string of victories over good teams to have a shot (show you can justify your worth by episode four at least, if possible beat shows that have been on longer on competing networks in your time slot)

- Many begin, few will make it. My beloved Syracuse Orangepersons are the Viva Laughlin of the television landscape. Both are irrelevant by week one.

- The best programs feature over performing no-names who build a reputation week by week. This season, think Joel McHale who is elevating himself from “The Soup guy” to sitcom stardom with Community.

- Each need role players to step up in key moments for major victories. For example the scrappy DB who shuts down a division rival’s blue chip wide receiver, this season on television, are the kids from Glee. On another team with a shoddier defensive strategy, that corner gets burnt like Waffle House toast and when you see Finn in a teen comedy as Zach Efron’s best friend your going to wonder why he’s even there.

- Some recruits come from major high school programs and are fought over by big Universities. In television we call them “produced and created by J.J. Abrams”

- Small schools that get no national recognition put together magical seasons that go unnoticed. If I were the coach of Boise State, I’d have a picture of Don Draper in the locker room.

- Most importantly, you can be a great college player and simply fall apart in the pro game, or for the sake of this metaphor, a second season. Heroes = Danny Wuerffel.

Old Kentucky Home

To paraphrase Jules Winfield, Mad Men ain’t even in the same fucking ballpark as other television. It ain’t the same league, it ain’t even the same fucking sport.

Not only did they put forth quite possibly one of their most dynamic episodes last Sunday (blackface! pot humor! dancing!) but it ended with a telling, silent scene. A beautiful capper to a masterwork.

Then I watched a interview with series creator Matt Weiner where he explained the same final scene and how it illustrated exactly the opposite of what I (and from what I can gather from recaps on other blogs) thought it meant. It made me sad. Then frustrated. Then I loved it more.

C’est Magnifique.