Sports Redux: Here Come the Dolphins

Never has a matchup between the best team in football and the worst team in football had this much riding on it. The Patriots, as we all know, have clinched the division, home-field advantage, and everything that matters in a typical season. The Miami Dolphins are God-awful, zooming towards the #1 draft pick, and would be in line for a season of historic ineptitude except that the stupid Ravens were worse last week. Should be a gimme, right?

Except there are a couple of subplots. The Dolphins no doubt feel the pressure from their 1972 counterparts, the only NFL team ever to run the table for an entire season. Which you may not know about, since the '72 Dolphins are shy about it. Except for Mercury Morris, who's looked for two months like Elvira during Halloween season or Alan Dershowitz during any legal proceeding; they say the most dangerous place to be in America this December is between Morris and a video camera.

There's also the matter of Miami hiring Bill Parcells to, if not coach the team (but just you wait), at least be in charge of football operations - bringin' in the groceries, in the parlance of our time. One might think the Miamis will have a little extra motivation to welcome the Tuna to town with a valiant effort and possibly a derailing of the Pats' season. Not that it's likely, but when you're 14-0 you worry about things like that. Better that than worry about how gracious Tedy Bruschi will be when they come to interview him about the chances of the 2035 Anchorage Raiders going all the way.

The Bruins' long-awaited homestand is over, and forgive them if they're happy about getting out of town. Over the five games at the Garden, they got one win and one shootout loss, and were slapped by St. Louis 4-1 yesterday. They're bruised, their goaltenders can only do so much for so long, and the ship needs to be righted quickly in the very tight Prince of Wales Eastern Conference. They're in Pittsburgh this afternoon.