Final Week of Preseason: Theater of the Absurd

The third preseason game is often called a dress rehearsal for the regular season. Extending the live theater metaphor, the fourth preseason game is an afternoon performance at the Piscataway Summer Stock Playhouse to work out the kinks of the production and integrate the new songs Bono wrote.

The N.F.L. knows better than to shine the footlights on the final exhibition games, in which starters parade the sidelines in baseball caps and coaches keep the real playbooks locked in the file cabinet. The whole final-week schedule was shunted onto Thursday and Friday night so Ryan Perrilloux would not have to match star power against Tim Lincecum or Serena Williams. With no national broadcasts, the regional Homer Sports Networks took center stage: the weekend late-night sports anchor got to be a sideline reporter, and Donny’s Discount Drywall got to sponsor the extra points.

Preseason games and struggling Broadway productions actually have much more in common than either set of fans would like to think.

UNDERSTUDIES GALORE The leading passers in the final preseason week included Thaddeus Lewis of St. Louis , Sean Canfield of New Orleans, Scott Tolzien of San Diego, and, well Tom Brady. Brady played just three series against the Giants but led New England in passing because of a 64-yard first-quarter toss. Think of his performance as a brief, high-priced cameo in an otherwise terrible show, the kind that Michael Caine specializes in. But we are talking about theater, not “Cars 2.”

Casts and running times can swell in these ensemble performances. A whopping 132 players participated in the Bills-Jaguars game on Aug. 27, none of them Maurice Jones-Drew, the one who deserves above-the-marquee credits in a Bills-Jaguars game. The meaningless marathon ran for 3 hours 53 minutes. Even Peter Jackson would trim a few scenes from that story.

Endless games and obscure players make life difficult for broadcasters, who try their best to convince you that Caleb King is every bit as interesting to watch during a 28-0 rout as Adrian Peterson. Color commentators reflexively state the same mantra after every routine tackle or 6-yard reception, “That’s another guy trying to make the roster.” But preseason excellence has a weak correlation with job security. In the Bill-Jaguars game, Buffalo’s Paul Hubbard caught a fourth-quarter touchdown pass, then hauled in a 2-point conversion to force overtime. Yes, overtime. Hubbard was released a few days later despite his heroic effort to extend a preseason game. Or possibly because of it.

COST OVERRUNS Bad football, like bad theater, can be overshadowed by stories of bloated production costs and extravagances.

In news that should make us doubt the very assumptions upon which human society is founded, yet somehow does not, Michael Vick received a multiyear contract extension that reportedly guarantees him $40 million. Andrew Brandt of National Football Post reported last week that the deal includes some unusual perks, including a $165,000 stadium luxury suite. That’s right: Vick is now so amazing that he can simultaneously play and watch himself. Brandt reported that Donovan McNabb also had a luxury suite when he was in Philadelphia; a family of opossums currently resides in it.

The citizens of Minnesota are debating whether to pay for a new stadium with a retractable roof to replace the Metrodome, which has a collapsible roof. The Vikings hope to secure public financing for a Ramsey County stadium with a roof that can be opened on a pleasant autumn day in Minnesota, one of which is tentatively scheduled for September 2015.

Running back Chris Johnson ended his contentious holdout late last week and agreed to a contract extension that included $30 million in guaranteed money. Johnson spent the week leading to the agreement in heated Twitter arguments.

“I don’t have a regular job so don’t compare me to you,” Johnson wrote to his fans, no doubt swaying many to his cause with his message of humility and empathy. Some old Broadway advice, Mr. Johnson: do not read your press, just weigh it. And tweets do not weigh anything.

RETOOLING A report during the Bengals-Colts broadcast announced that Carson Palmer could report to Cincinnati this week. That news is sure to cause some “All About Eve”-level stage-door drama. The Bengals have moved on without the not-quite-retired, not-at-all-happy Palmer, with the rookie Andy Dalton earning the starting quarterback job based largely on availability and willingness. There’s no word on whether Palmer has chosen “The Music of the Night” or “Why Have You Brought Me Here?” as his entrance theme.

Several rookie quarterbacks who were expected to compete for starting jobs, including Jacksonville’s Blaine Gabbert and Minnesota’s Christian Ponder, may be headed for the third string. This sort of thing happens when you have only 37 days to go from “Nice to meet you, Coach, where do I get my parking placard?” to “Trips right counter motion drag slant, on three.” Everyone knows that the biggest stars work their way up from the chorus line. At least that’s how it happens in the movies.

Last-second rewrites and recasting are not always the best policy. The Giants appeared to be in midseason form against the Jets in the third game: several players were injured, Eli Manning threw a tip-drill interception and Brandon Jacobs lost his temper. It became so bad that some spectators contended that the bronze Snoopy trophy, awarded to the victorious Jets, cried real tears. Rather than return to the drawing board, the Giants limped through the finale against the Patriots with David Carr at quarterback. The “starters” struggled, but the Giants won on a fourth-quarter fumble recovery. Three wobbly acts saved by a happy ending.

BACKSTAGE DRAMA Every production has its secrets, and not everyone can keep his mouth shut or his smartphone idle. Houston’s Arian Foster used Twitter to publish a magnetic resonance imaging scan of his ailing hamstring. It takes special talent to violate N.F.L. policy, HIPAA and good taste with a single act. New England’s Chad Ochocinco, feeling one-upped for the first time in his life, is presumably trying to upload his electroencephalogram results to Skype.

Carolina tight end Jeremy Shockey did not violate any medical-privacy laws when he saved his teammate Ben Hartsock from choking last week, though the strong blow that Shockey applied to Hartsock’s back might have resulted in a 15-yard penalty if it happened on the field. The league’s new rules are intended to protect defenseless players, and who is more defenseless than someone with an inadequately masticated hunk of pork tenderloin lodged in his trachea? Hartsock became the butt of “don’t choke” jokes for the rest of the week, most of which are best left on the editing-room floor. The tenderloin will have a disciplinary meeting with Roger Goodell on Wednesday.

Shockey celebrated his heroics with a touchdown reception in the final preseason game, a dull rout at the hands of Pittsburgh. Hartsock also had two catches in the game. After all, he is a guy trying to make a roster. And the show must go on.