Week 8. "More like New Dork"

The suggestiveness of New York teenagers dressed as zombified versions of their favorite superheroes is enlivening, provocative. America is a homily on the egoism of muscle and capes; a Halloween costume well executed, but late now, is fraying at the edges and dripping from the nose, due to the belligerent donning it. Last night, on the train, I was asked if I knew where I was going. I said that I did, but sort of. Wonder Woman's bloodied forehead lowered, there were her boots. A clear moment on a chaotic ride west: her chin lifts from her chest revealing the fear that electrifies her milky eyes, she says, "I don't."

Football shows up fashionably late and sensibly suited for every holiday event of the autumn season. (Even the scheduling of a Bye for the perpetually costumed Oakland Coliseum was a fine display of tact on the part of the NFL: don't overdo it sister, no one likes a braggart). The fans are excited and the cameras frame the Frankenstein's, Dorothy's, Wicked Witch's and TinTin's like this is the first Halloween. (On Thanksgiving, the NFL's endless stream of steaming turkey images are so nostalgic, I'm made to reach for my small pox blankie. On Christmas the sleigh bells chime in and out of commercial breaks with the ardent charm of hope in sport and natural man). It is a season of cold, focused energy, thundering consumption and uncanny results. The World Series was shocking, yes, but it is baseball, where shocking isn't defined by upsets or comebacks so much as by nuance-as-norm: the persistence of details explain away the big play. Game 6 did not clinch the World Series, only further punished its stamina.

There were, in a more accepted definition of the word in sports, shocking upsets around the league today. The Saints wore their Losers mask as their defeaters wore one of a Winner, though I argue it was just Halloween. Baltimore was nearly defeated (not an upset unless you're a gambling woman), Minnesota beat Cam Newton and the Panthers at Carolina, and the Dolphins lost by only three to the Giants in New York. I realize a win is a win and therefore not an upset, but a near-upset and upset do both function in a similar way in a greater context. They force an examination of what good is and why anomaly is generally accepted under the umbrella of good. For example, The Saints loss to St Louis will be disregarded over the course of the season. St. Louis was without a win and the Saints were coming off a sixty point victory. Rarely do teams go without a win over an entire season and it is easy to have your guard down after beating a similarly terrible team by sixty just a week ago. The game was an anomaly, an asterisk. The Saints are good still. On the other hand, even though the Baltimore Ravens won, they may not be good anymore. Last week they lost to the Jaguars, a poor team, and then today, came back to barely beat an awful Arizona Cardinals squad. The near-upset is cause for concern for the Ravens because it exposes flaws in their design. Flacco is not playing well enough that if a team can manage to score on that defense (which is good), the Ravens offense will have difficulty manufacturing a victory. A win, even a poor one, (or an anomalous loss), will preserve the veneer of a good team, allowing for scrutiny only with the disclaimer that they are Winners still. As the season bends into its half time stretch, reshaping its muscles and strengthening its core, the good teams are beginning to separate as those without upset: The Patriots, The Packers, The Steelers, The 49ers. Re-evaluating the status of the league and the teams that are good melts away the nonsensical talk about teams like the Lions, Bills and (earlier in season) the Eagles. It allows for Tim Tebow to slip into the sort of Hades occupied by the Carson Palmers before him. (I will give Tim Tebow some sort of hell every week on out). The upsets this week are a nice lens in which to start viewing the remainder of the season. The costumes may be stripped off and discarded into the street; they may be something you always wanted to wear but couldn't until this weekend [you sluts].

When I moved to New York, not long before Halloween last year, my brother asked me how I like it. I says presumptuously, "it's good you know, I mean it is New York." He says, "more like New Dork." I quietly took offense, thinking he meant 'who cares, bro'. Now... I think what he really meant, is that here is a new kind of dork where the losers are winning, the cool is damned yesterdays. Smart kid, he knows the best Halloween costume is Santa Claus.