I attended my first Arena Football league game last Saturday and
I think I have a case of whiplash. The San Jose SaberCats
out-pointed the Colorado Crush in the first round of the playoffs,
winning by what could be best described as a college basketball
margin of victory, 76-67.
I attended my first Arena Football league game last Saturday and I think I have a case of whiplash.
The San Jose SaberCats out-pointed the Colorado Crush in the first round of the playoffs, winning by what could be best described as a college basketball margin of victory, 76-67.
Watching from press row high above the stands, and way to close to the blaring speakers, I couldn’t help but compare it to other activities I was more familiar with.
My first thoughts went to tennis. Similar to a rally where your head is on a swivel to catch the ball zipping back and forth over the net, touchdowns were being scored so quickly I bent down to tie my shoe and missed three scores. But comparing tennis to the game of football just because of the pace and scoring opportunities is like saying meatloaf and filet mignon are similar because they both come from cow.
Arena Football is a combination of pro football, a game of pinball, being stuck in a closet and sitting front row at a Bon Jovi concert. And man does that PA announcer have a thing for Bon Jovi. (He does happen to be a co-owner of the Philadelphia Soul franchise.)
The pre-game started with a bang, literally, as fireworks and flames burst from the turf as some leather-clad dude on a motorcycle rode around the field. Nothing says football like a cheerleader in leather chaps, sporting a goatee. Luckily, Hell’s Angel was quickly overshadowed by scantily clad female cheerleaders known as SaberKittens. I smiled ear to ear as I realized there were more of them than players on the field. After the game I inquired about these kittens but my petition to adopt was denied.
The best chuckle I got out of the whole event was the choice clip used to pump up the crowd before the game. HP Pavilion filled with anticipatory darkness before suddenly erupting in a chorus of dings as Christopher Walken pleaded in a classic Saturday Night Live skit on the jumbotron, “I got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell!”
The cowbells rang loud and proud, reminding me of the past seven years I’ve spent going to Sacramento Kings games. While abrasive over the course of a contest, I suppose the bells are better suited for football than the ol’ 49ers salute of clinking wine glasses, pinky-fingers raised to the sky.
All jokes aside, there was a phenomenal amount of skill shown by both teams’ quarterbacks and receivers. The timing and precision was on par with the highest levels of football.
SaberCats quarterback Mark Grieb officially became my favorite player in the AFL – full disclosure, we both attended the football juggernaut that is UC Davis – by heaving a mind-numbing nine touchdown passes in the win.
Grieb told me after the game that Arena Football may not be your old-school 11-on-11, but it isn’t for the faint of heart.
“It’s so much faster,” Grieb said. “This was a classic Arena football game where it’s a battle of attrition.”
The first example of erosion was seen in the confidence being exhibited by defenders of both teams. Heads lowered and bodies slumped as passes consistently whizzed by defensive backs for scores. Ironically, fans started doing the wave in the fourth quarter when a Crush receiver caught an easy ball for a touchdown. Meanwhile defenders had arms extended, as if wishing him well on his way to the end zone.
SaberCats receiver Rodney Wright told me the game was far different than his playing days at Fresno State, but he was out there in hopes of catching the eye of NFL scouts.
“It’s crazy, it’s like a basketball game (as far as scoring),” Wright said. “That’s my dream though. If I had to play here the rest of my career I’d love to do it, but it’s been my dream to play in the NFL since I was born.”
I agree with Wright. While it’s not the NFL, Arena Football is good enough for now.
