Mat Irby’s Quick Slant * Chiefs * Giants How they arrived here couldn’t have felt more different, but they’re here just the same. The Chiefs have been the league’s standard-bearer, led by the most familiar QB of a generation, himself, a machine that mass produces overcoming. The Giants
Mat Irby’s Quick Slant * Dolphins * Bills On the shores of Lake Erie, winter comes as inevitably as rust, and with it, all of its drab skies, fluffy snow, mittened hands, and Seasonal Affective Disorder. In South Florida, summer stretches long overdue again, as it does each September; sunshine permeates
Mat Irby’s Quick Slant * Falcons * Vikings Whether they know it or not, Atlanta and Minnesota fans are mutual empaths, bound by similarities they don’t see. Minnesota is the NFL’s northernmost franchise, nestled among frozen lakes and Midwestern granite hills. Its Twin Cities stand guard over the Mississippi
Mat Irby’s Quick Slant * Commanders * Packers Washington, D.C., is the nation’s capital; it’s named after one of our founders—our first president, a military general whose integrity and steadiness helped secure independence for the colonies while assuring, along the way, that power should serve the people,
Mat Irby’s Quick Slant * Ravens * Bills Four teams enter Week 1 with an over/under of 11.5 wins in 2025. Two of them will meet Sunday night in a game that feels like the fresh pour of foundation to support the entire 2025 AFC title race. It’s
Mat Irby’s Quick Slant * Chargers * Chiefs Hollywood is a land of dreams; it feels like a metropolitan sprawl of 18 million waiters and valets spread along 33,000 square miles, each preparing for their place on the couch next to some late-night talk show host. It’s a city
Mat Irby's Quick Slant * Eagles * Cowboys If the rivalries of the NFC East are like embers that never snuff out, Philadelphia and Dallas’ is a perpetual conflagration. Their rivalry isn’t seasonal, but generational—each offseason a Cold War, and their annual meetings, seven hours spilling out over
Smoke stagnated, yellowing the upper half of a dimly lit hotel room. It was August 1963; rain-slicked Manhattan was boiling outside, a distant train screaming through the night somewhere beyond the window. Three men from Oakland – each tied to the Raiders or Bay Area newspapers – were out on business with