The grand pecking order

Doubt is the fuel of great sports rivalries. We all like to believe that our favorite team is the envy of everyone else in the world of sports and we especially like to believe fans of the team we hate most live with a constant feeling of inferiority. Despite this desire we can never be totally certain our team is cock of the walk. The Duke-UNC rivalry is a prime example of how this doubt functions. Fans of either school can vigorously argue which shade of blue is better until the state-mandated linear rise of sea level engulfs North Carolina, yet no conclusion will ever be reached. The one thing both sides will agree upon, however, is that NC State does not belong in the conversation.

I've been to Raleigh, I've toured the NC State campus, and I've watched Wolfpack games on TV, but I'm still not convinced anybody knows the school exists. Russell Wilson identifies Wisconsin as his college even though the majority of his collegiate career took place at NC State. More relevantly, the national sports consciousness is so thoroughly occupied by Duke and UNC that it's easy to forget the Wolfpack are a thing. According to the shirt NC State is a thing (true)--a thing one rung above Duke (false). This assertion arguably makes the shirt the most condescending piece of clothing of all time, and it makes me wonder if the scorn of the designer was not entirely directed at NC State.

I have to believe NC State fans know their place on the food chain. (Whether or not they will admit this is another topic.) A Wolfpack fan that sees this shirt will realize the prestige of their school is being artificially inflated as a way to insult Duke. This makes it a not-so-subtle acknowledgement of the true pecking order, albeit accomplished in a convoluted manner with cartoon fish. Because of this NC State fans should be more perturbed by the shirt than its ostensible target.

The worst part about being on the bottom of the food chain is being reminded that you are on the bottom of the food chain...even if the reminder comes in the form of a shirt that explicitly states otherwise.

Timely Movie Review I: The Fly

The Fly is a science fiction/horror film directed by David Cronenberg. The film stars Jeff Goldblum as Seth Brundle, a scientist developing telepods that allow matter to be instantaneously transported from one location to another. After a successful test involving a baboon, Brundle, fueled by alcohol and romantic rejection, decides to transport himself. During the test he fails to notice a fly in his pod and the two living beings are transported together. With their DNA now fused, Jeff Goldblum begins a ghastly transformation into a fly (or, depending on your perspective, the fly slowly transforms into Jeff Goldblum).

The initial consequences of being part fly are surprisingly positive. Brundle finds himself with super-human strength and arm wrestling skills beyond Sylvester Stallone's wildest dreams. However, his human form quickly dissolves and he concurrently exhibits distinctively fly-like behavior (complete with a totally sugar-based diet). As the inevitably of his condition becomes apparent, Brundle becomes increasingly despondent. The deterioration of his human form is accompanied by decreasing lucidity and bizarre musings.

The true terror of The Fly is found in the allegorical nature of the metamorphosis. A common trait of Cronenberg's films is the seemingly fantastical developments are actually a small step removed from reality, if they're removed at all. The transformation of Brundle is frighteningly similar to the process of succumbing to a terminal illness, or expanded to everybody, the natural course of aging. It's a remarkable accomplishment that the lasting fear of The Fly has nothing to do with the title.

In addition to the compelling exploration of existential themes, The Fly succeeds thanks to a strong performance from Jeff Goldblum and terrific visual effects, as grisly as they may be. It is essentially viewing, provided you have an ironclad stomach.

The Packers' Playoff Loss: A Numerical Perspective

It's always a bummer when the Packers lose in the playoffs because it means there is no more football left to watch.*As a fan you hear that defense and elite quarterbacks win championships, but that's not entirely true. The key to winning the Super Bowl is making the playoffs. A lot.

Though this absence of football also applies to their Super Bowl-winning seasons, in these instances the void is filled with a comforting glow that lasts until fall. 

In this age of parity a playoff game is more of a toss-up than it ever was. Whereas home field advantage used to mean certain victory, six of the past ten teams that went undefeated at home in the regular season lost their first playoff game; a home game, nonetheless. Furthermore, the last six Super Bowl winners would not have won if not for an extraordinarily unlikely play or sequence of events (i.e. The Helmet Catch, Joe Flacco to Jacoby Jones, et al). So while having a great defense, great quarterback, or some other exceptional facet helps you make the playoffs, once there your fate is decided by a roll of the bones. And if you earn enough chances to roll, good things will happen. Just ask the Green Bay Packers.

If you accept that every team has a ~50% of winning a playoff game, then every playoff team has a roughly 1:6 (16.7% chance of making the Super Bowl (1:4 if you earn a bye). The Packers have made the playoffs 16 times since 1993, advancing to three Super Bowls and winning two. To put it another way, their recent playoff ventures have netted a Super Bowl appearance and win at the rate of 18.8% and 12.5%, respectively. This is not bad at all.

Past performance is not an indicator of future results, but having Aaron Rodgers or Brett Favre at quarterback certainly helps keeps the Super Bowl odds in your favor. If you roll the dice enough eventually they will come up in whatever number helps you win at craps. Of course, you still need to earn your place at the table.