Well, two things shook me out of my two-month stupor today: the signing of Jeff Garcia and a slap upside the head from PantyRaider via email.
First off, I like the Jeff Garcia signing. Even as a backup, he’s better than several of our recent "starting" quarterbacks, including Aaron Brooks, Josh McCown and Andrew Walter. That’s called progress and depth, two things that have been in short supply in recent years.
Ever since the hiring of Coach Cable, I hardly recognize the Raiders from a behavioral standpoint—and that’s a good thing. They seem to have finally resisted Einstein’s definition of insanity: repeating the same thing over and over while expecting different results.
We didn’t re-sign Jerry Porter but we did sign Jeff Garcia? We’re not holding out for Michael Vick instead? We didn’t deliver gold bricks to the doorstep of Ray Lewis? We didn’t give Kwame Harris a raise? We overpaid for guys who at least have earned their rewards, such as Lechler and Nnamdi? What in tarnation is going on here? Surely we're going to offer Rickey Dudley a contract any day now, right?
Then there’s the Marquis Cooper tragedy. I was actually going to post something about that, but it was just too depressing. By all accounts, he was a good young man, which only amplified the sense of loss. Did you see that he was honored by the Arizona Diamondbacks today, who had his father throw out the first pitch?
I’ve never liked the phrase, “At least he was doing what he loved when he died.” I don’t want something I love to be my cause of death. I’d rather have it be something I hate, like heart disease, natural catastrophe or the Broncos.
Beyond that, I’m not going to pretend that I have a lot to offer right now. This recent break has been good for me, despite the fact that I’m now apparently flirting with blog mutiny, and understandably so. Quite frankly, I can’t blame anyone for jumping ship. Every ship needs a captain, and this captain has let the ship drift for far too long.