EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
El Hombre doesn’t know what is so sacrosanct about the Hall of Fame Game, but it has enough weight to force Roger Goodell, DeMaurice Smith and a group of really rich guys stay in a conference room for 12 hours discussing their labor differences. After more than 100 days of hand-wringing, legal challenges and endless Sal-Pal reports, a completely meaningless football game has spurred the two sides in the NFL labor dispute to negotiate like grown-ups and end the silly stalemate.
It’s hard to believe the real engine in the drive to bring football to the starving masses has been an exhibition game noted more for the relative anonymity of those competing in it – after the first series or two – and the inane interviews conducted with HOF inductees while the game is going on. (Who was it that decided yellow blazers were proper for the football Hall of Fame?)
For some reason, the game Matters, so Smith, Goodell and their minions are at the bargaining table, trying to hammer out the details of a CBA that assures everybody a fair share of the gigantic revenues that will be rolling into the NFL vaults over the next several years. The league grossed $9 billion last season, and with TV right expected to double over the next few seasons (ESPN will pay $1.8-1.9 billion for Monday Night Football alone beginning next year) everybody is going to be fat and happy. Or, in the case of disgruntled Redskins defensive tackle Albert Haynesworth, just fat.
As the final touches are put on the agreement, let’s hope the two sides are mindful of the obligation they have to retired players. Thursday’s death of former Colts and Chargers tight end John Mackey amplifies the need to make sure those who have finished playing the game – and with whom the game is finished – have health benefits. Mackey was one of the pioneering players at his position, displaying a rare (at the time) blend of size and speed that made him more than just an adjunct offensive tackle. Mackey could block like a lineman and then split the seam for big gains in the passing game. He came along at a time when the position wasn’t counted on for big plays but showed its value through his performance.
His career earned him enshrinement in Canton, but it is his life off the field and after football that makes him pertinent to the negotiations occurring right now. A former NFL Players Union president, Mackey was a tireless advocate for those who brought the game to life. In his later years, Mackey suffered from frontotemporal dementia, brought on by the many collisions he endured while an NFL player. He spent the last four years of his life in an assisted living facility, after the task of providing daily care for him became too grueling for his devoted wife, Sylvia.
The last CBA between owners and players, forged in 2006, included the “88 Plan,” named for Mackey’s uniform number. It provided up to $88,000 a year for nursing care for former players with dementia or Alzheimer’s and up to 50 grand for home care. That was a positive step, and it no doubt helped Mackey. But it wasn’t enough, and Smith and the current players need to make sure this new agreement contains more. Much more.
Every player who spends at least three seasons in the league should get lifetime health benefits. Good ones, too. They’re going to need new knees, hips and ankles down the line, and they should have access to the best care possible, at minimal expense to them. We’re talking $10 co-pays and $100 hospital fees. Let’s not hear anything about “skyrocketing healthcare costs” or “pre-existing conditions.” Create and fund a plan that provides for universal acceptance. If that means the NFL has to shell out a half-billion a year, so be it. And if that means Smith has to pull the grown-up card on a bunch of selfish here-and-now types, so be it.
The astounding thing about this is that the players haven’t fought for this kind of coverage from the beginning of time. Every player, no matter how rich or successful he may be today, will some day be an ex-player. And, unlike average American citizens, they will have health problems that go well beyond the normal afflictions. Not only must they deal with threats of serious conditions and diseases, but they must also confront the specter of joint replacement, dementia and whatever comes of the supplements and P.E.D.s they took to stick around the game longer.
Some might say that a player who accumulates millions in salary over the course of his career can certainly afford to augment his Medicare coverage with a gap policy. That is true. But gaining access to such insurance isn’t so easy, since the effects of NFL play render former players extremely high risks for insurance companies, who exist not to provide care but to make money. Having a no-questions-asked entry into a plan available would provide tremendous peace of mind and long-term security for players who face increasing risk of serious injury and long-term health problems playing the sport America loves.
As the final details of the forthcoming CBA are negotiated, players and owners alike should allow John Mackey’s life – and recent death – to serve as impetus to make sure former players have the care they need. Do it for John.
And for Andre Waters. And Dave Duerson. And Mike Webster.
Do the right thing.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Nets guard Deron Williams has announced he has signed to play ball in Turkey during the NBA work stoppage. Now, Kobe Bryant says he might consider a stint in the Euroleagues. What a great idea. Less money, much more practice and the chance to suffer a serious injury that puts future 10-figure earnings at risk. And we thought Ron Artest, er, Metta World Peace was nuts. Enjoy life on the Bosphorus, Deron, but don’t expect too many of your NBA compatriots to follow. Istanbul isn’t too posse friendly…So, let’s get this straight. Oregon’s defense in the investigation into whether it paid 25 large to a street agent who helped deliver recruits is stupidity? That the Ducks really paid the money for shoddy “recruiting information?” If the NC2A buys this one, then deposed Ohio State coach Senator Sweatervest should say the e-mails he received weren’t about his players swapping memorabilia for tattoos but that they were just trying to meet Mr. Roarke’s assistant Tattoo on Fantasy Island. Absurd…Nebraska’s in trouble with the NC2A for distributing nearly $28,000 in non-required textbooks and course materials to athlete-students from 2007-10. Schools are allowed to provide mandatory books and materials, but not those items merely “recommended” by professors. In a way, the Cornhuskers should be lauded for giving athlete-students access to extra books. That laughing you hear is coming from the SEC…The Cleveland Cavaliers have announced that they will own and operate and NBA D-League franchise in Canton. Don’t they already have one of those playing in Quicken Loans Arena?...The Roger Clemens perjury trial is underway, with jury selection taking up the first several days of action. Among the potential prosecution witnesses is Majoke League Baseball commissioner Bud Sellout, who will be playing the part of Captain Renault on the stand. Sellout has been undergoing round-the-clock coaching, in case he has to testify. Among his expected answers is “I’m shocked, shocked, to find out steroids were being used.” Apparently he is having trouble saying that with a straight face.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Phillies play the Braves this weekend in their second crucial series in two weeks. Although the pitching matchups aren’t perfect for Atlanta, and the Phils will be without some key performers, it’s a measuring stick for the team with the best record in baseball and another chance for GM Ruben Amaro to see that his team needs help in the bullpen (even once Ryan Madson returns) and in the lineup. Should the Phillies sweep the three-game set and head into the All-Star break up 5 ½ games, Amaro shouldn’t stay put. The goal here is a World Series title; nothing less will do. And this team as currently constructed has holes that will make winning three playoff series difficult. There is precious little power in the lineup. The corner outfield situation is a mess. The Phillies have the best record in baseball, but 71 games remain after the break, and this is an old team that has already proven it is susceptible to injury. Here’s hoping Amaro understands the need for upgrading the roster, no matter what happens against the Braves. It’s about October and nothing else.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: People will judge this as an overreaction, but the practice of players’ throwing baseballs into the stands during games has to end. No exceptions. The tragedy Thursday night in Texas may have been a horrible accident, but it could have been averted with a zero-tolerance policy for players who toss balls into the stands. This is not the fault of Josh Hamilton – the Texas outfielder who threw the ball to the fan who fell over the railing and died later in the evening. He was just doing what MLB players do every night, several times a night. And, believe El Hombre, he is paying a heavy price for his role in the tragedy. But it’s time for an end to it. One person has died, and that’s one too many. So, no more happy tosses by first basemen to begging fans after the third out of an inning. No more over-the-head throws by outfielders after they catch fly balls. Ball girls don’t give out balls after catching them in foul territory. If a batted ball leaves the field of play, it’s fair game, but that’s it. (And don’t even try to say that the next step is the installation of a net around the entire field; that’s ridiculous.) This isn’t about tradition or fun. This is about a fan who brought his six-year old son to a baseball game and ended up in the morgue. No more tragic accidents. No more baseballs thrown into the stands. Period.
-EH-
Showing posts with label Roger Goodell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roger Goodell. Show all posts
Friday, July 8, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
School Daze
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Last week, El Hombre had the opportunity to interview the only Iranian playing Division I basketball. Arsalan Kazemi is a spring-loaded forward who’s averaging about 17 and 11 for Rice, and he doesn’t mention “jihad” or “Great Satan” whenever he talks about America. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from being detained every time he comes to the country by security officials who think he’s in the country to collect some yellowcake uranium or detonate an IED at the Rose Parade. At least his wait time has dropped, from six-and-a-half hours the first time he arrived here, to three hours. Pretty soon, he’ll get sent on his way with only a body-cavity scavenger hunt by Sausage Fingers McGee.
After discussing Kazemi’s journey from the crowded Iranian city of Esfahan to Houston, El Hombre asked the Owl sophomore if he was still studying economics, as an earlier article had revealed. The answer was depressing.
“I changed my major to sports management, with a minor in business, because it was too hard to study economics and play basketball,” he said.
Here’s a kid from Iran, who is clearly pretty sharp – why else would he think to tackle economics in the first place? – and the rigors of his sport have forced him to find an easier way to navigate Rice’s academic waters. Nothing against sports management majors; they may some day be running athletic departments and NBA franchises, but it’s sad that Kazemi has surrendered his original major for something that makes it easier for him to bounce the round ball. At least he’s still in a course of study that has the potential to serve him down the road. Most players who are shunted away from serious paths in the pursuit of great athletic glory are directed toward concentrations like astrology or history of grunge rock.
It’s time for college athletics to drop the sham and admit that they have taken over many of this nation’s fine academic institutions. The idea of sports as an extracurricular activity is quaint. The thought that it is a way for universities to promote themselves is antiquated. Today’s big-time (and big-time hopeful) programs are corporations that rival the professional teams from which they once worked so hard to separate themselves. Wednesday’s announcement that espn was paying the University of Texas $300 million for the rights to produce 20 years of the Longhorn Network just about sealed the deal. Even though Texas threw the pointy-heads a bone by endowing a pair of professor’s chairs with some of the booty, the windfall is the latest and most damning argument against college sports.
Most astonishing, at least from espn’s point of view is what the channel will run. Since Texas has deals with Fox and espn to televise the vast majority of its football and men’s basketball games, the LN will get one grid contest, most likely against Amarillo College of Animal Husbandry, and eight hoop games, with the centerpiece likely to be the annual clash with Iowa State. Other than that, we’re looking at 24 hours a day of “Olympic” sports and the ever-popular “shoulder programming,” of coaches’ shows, hard-hitting newsmagazines, feature shows (“Bevo’s Blind Date”) and other pap. Texas gets $15 mil a year, on top of the 10 large it takes in from IMG for radio and on-line rights and $10-15 million from the Big 12 for TV, bowls and NC2A tournament appearances. Last year, the school’s athletic budget was a nation’s-highest $137 million. Expect that to grow considerably as athletic administrators find ways to use espn cash to buy their wives burnt-orange mink coats. And El Hombre won’t even get into the conflict of interest between espn, which still purports itself to be a news-gathering organization, and one of the schools it covers.
As the coffers fill to capacity, the Athlete-Students continue to take the brunt of it, whether it’s through phony-baloney courses of “study,” onerous NC2A rules designed to favor institutions or a continued refusal to share the revenue streams that are generated through their hard work and sacrifice. Guys like Kazemi are the lucky ones. He’ll likely get a degree from a fine university like Rice. That should help him back home or here, once his basketball playing days are over. Others will leave school with no marketable skill and an “education” that prepares them little for the professional world. Meanwhile, the cash registers at factories like Texas continue to ring at record rates, and the professionalization of college sports continues at a breakneck pace. The Longhorn Network is the next step in a natural progression, but it’s one that causes more concern than the usual money grabs executed by big-time programs. While it’s unlikely East Carolina will get its own network any time soon, the barrier has been broken, and soon all the other big boys will want a TV channel of their own.
If they don’t get that, they’ll find some other way to rake in extra cash. Meanwhile, tuitions soar, academic programs are cut, and most professors’ salaries don’t come near those of coaches. Enjoy it all now, because in 10-15 years, the whole thing will be undistinguishable from the professional ranks – with one exception.
The players will be getting screwed.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Mr. Metallurgy dropped a resounding “Nyet!” on the Carmelo Anthony-to-New-Jersey trade, no doubt upsetting Nets fans in the short run but helping the team in the long haul. Anthony is a selfish scorer who will never win a ring, unless he plays a supporting role on an all-star team. You don’t want him as a leader, and his petulance and lack of professionalism this season prove that…Here’s some more big NBA news: Brandon Jennings will be replaced in the NBA Slam Dunk Contest lineup by DeMar DeRozan. DeWho DeCares? If the league were smart, it would lower the rims to 9 feet and have a Legends Dunk Contest featuring Dr. J, Michael Jordan, Dominique Wilkins and Darnell Hillman’s mighty, mighty Afro…TV analyst Todd Woodbridge’s series of gaffes surrounding the shape of tennis star Kim Clijsters is priceless. First, he texted a friend that Clijsters seemed “grumpy” and that her “boobs are bigger,” indications to him that she was pregnant. Then, in a televised interview, he asked outright whether Clijsters was indeed in the family way. What’s next, telling Serena Williams that her outfit makes “her butt look big?” Wise up, Todd…Off of Oahu, surfing officials are gearing up for the possibility of a rare “Eddie,” the contest that only takes place when wave heights reach 20 feet. Boarders from all over will head to the islands for next Thursday’s contest. The only rule: First one to California wins…There was some big news in college basketball earlier this week when John Calipari cursed out one of his players. The horror! There were also rumors Tom Izzo yelled at a ref, Coach K made a sarcastic comment and Jim Boeheim whined. Please.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The only thing moderately surprising about Andy Reid’s decision to fire defensive coordinator Sean McDermott was that the Eagles’ coach told assembled media five days earlier that McDermott was coming back for the ’11 season. Reid usually equivocates in such situations, preferring instead to consider situations, look at film and read Tarot cards, rather than give a direct answer. Offering up McDermott makes perfect sense for a coach who is unwilling to take responsibility for his team’s defensive shortcomings. No amount of “that’s on me” comments can mask his rear-covering decision to axe McDermott, rather than acknowledge that not even Buddy Ryan could have crafted a bloodthirsty defense out of the shaky personnel Reid provided. The Eagles lack playmakers at all positions, have a crashing dearth of talent at cornerback behind Asante Samuel and don’t care about signing or drafting impact linebackers. Jim Johnson was a master, but he had far more talent at his disposal than did McDermott. It’s no surprise the coach was picked up immediately by the Panthers, because everybody around the league realized Reid was merely trying to protect himself at the expense of someone else. In the future, he’ll have to do a better job with that.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: As NFL commissioner Roger Goodell prepares for the lockout and the 18-game season designed to line owners’ wallets and cripple the workforce, he’s probably popping open bottles of champagne every hour to celebrate the league’s conference title game matchups. It’s almost perfect. No stupid uniforms like the Cardinals’ all-red jobs or any Titans combination. Both games will be played on grass. Outdoors. There is tradition. There are great QBs. Expect a ratings bonanza – and two pretty good football games. The Jets and linebacker Bart Scott “CAN’T WAIT!” for their trip to Pittsburgh, but that thinking may be a little short-sighted. Sure, the Jets beat the Steelers in December, but Troy Polamalu did not play that day for Pittsburgh. New York has been impressive in defeating Indy and the Bradys, but taking down three straight heavyweights on the road is too tall a task. Pittsburgh 23, New York 14. The 183rd renewal of the Bears-Packers rivalry is the biggest one yet and only the second post-season meeting between the historic foes. Expect a steady dose of old-school footage before the game – thankfully – and a pair of rough-and-tumble defenses once kickoff comes. Green Bay QB Aaron Rodgers gets the edge over Chicago’s Jay Cutler, even though Cutler has played well of late, but the difference in this one will be the Packers’ underrated D. Green Bay 24, Chicago 17.
-EH-
Last week, El Hombre had the opportunity to interview the only Iranian playing Division I basketball. Arsalan Kazemi is a spring-loaded forward who’s averaging about 17 and 11 for Rice, and he doesn’t mention “jihad” or “Great Satan” whenever he talks about America. Of course, that doesn’t stop him from being detained every time he comes to the country by security officials who think he’s in the country to collect some yellowcake uranium or detonate an IED at the Rose Parade. At least his wait time has dropped, from six-and-a-half hours the first time he arrived here, to three hours. Pretty soon, he’ll get sent on his way with only a body-cavity scavenger hunt by Sausage Fingers McGee.
After discussing Kazemi’s journey from the crowded Iranian city of Esfahan to Houston, El Hombre asked the Owl sophomore if he was still studying economics, as an earlier article had revealed. The answer was depressing.
“I changed my major to sports management, with a minor in business, because it was too hard to study economics and play basketball,” he said.
Here’s a kid from Iran, who is clearly pretty sharp – why else would he think to tackle economics in the first place? – and the rigors of his sport have forced him to find an easier way to navigate Rice’s academic waters. Nothing against sports management majors; they may some day be running athletic departments and NBA franchises, but it’s sad that Kazemi has surrendered his original major for something that makes it easier for him to bounce the round ball. At least he’s still in a course of study that has the potential to serve him down the road. Most players who are shunted away from serious paths in the pursuit of great athletic glory are directed toward concentrations like astrology or history of grunge rock.
It’s time for college athletics to drop the sham and admit that they have taken over many of this nation’s fine academic institutions. The idea of sports as an extracurricular activity is quaint. The thought that it is a way for universities to promote themselves is antiquated. Today’s big-time (and big-time hopeful) programs are corporations that rival the professional teams from which they once worked so hard to separate themselves. Wednesday’s announcement that espn was paying the University of Texas $300 million for the rights to produce 20 years of the Longhorn Network just about sealed the deal. Even though Texas threw the pointy-heads a bone by endowing a pair of professor’s chairs with some of the booty, the windfall is the latest and most damning argument against college sports.
Most astonishing, at least from espn’s point of view is what the channel will run. Since Texas has deals with Fox and espn to televise the vast majority of its football and men’s basketball games, the LN will get one grid contest, most likely against Amarillo College of Animal Husbandry, and eight hoop games, with the centerpiece likely to be the annual clash with Iowa State. Other than that, we’re looking at 24 hours a day of “Olympic” sports and the ever-popular “shoulder programming,” of coaches’ shows, hard-hitting newsmagazines, feature shows (“Bevo’s Blind Date”) and other pap. Texas gets $15 mil a year, on top of the 10 large it takes in from IMG for radio and on-line rights and $10-15 million from the Big 12 for TV, bowls and NC2A tournament appearances. Last year, the school’s athletic budget was a nation’s-highest $137 million. Expect that to grow considerably as athletic administrators find ways to use espn cash to buy their wives burnt-orange mink coats. And El Hombre won’t even get into the conflict of interest between espn, which still purports itself to be a news-gathering organization, and one of the schools it covers.
As the coffers fill to capacity, the Athlete-Students continue to take the brunt of it, whether it’s through phony-baloney courses of “study,” onerous NC2A rules designed to favor institutions or a continued refusal to share the revenue streams that are generated through their hard work and sacrifice. Guys like Kazemi are the lucky ones. He’ll likely get a degree from a fine university like Rice. That should help him back home or here, once his basketball playing days are over. Others will leave school with no marketable skill and an “education” that prepares them little for the professional world. Meanwhile, the cash registers at factories like Texas continue to ring at record rates, and the professionalization of college sports continues at a breakneck pace. The Longhorn Network is the next step in a natural progression, but it’s one that causes more concern than the usual money grabs executed by big-time programs. While it’s unlikely East Carolina will get its own network any time soon, the barrier has been broken, and soon all the other big boys will want a TV channel of their own.
If they don’t get that, they’ll find some other way to rake in extra cash. Meanwhile, tuitions soar, academic programs are cut, and most professors’ salaries don’t come near those of coaches. Enjoy it all now, because in 10-15 years, the whole thing will be undistinguishable from the professional ranks – with one exception.
The players will be getting screwed.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Mr. Metallurgy dropped a resounding “Nyet!” on the Carmelo Anthony-to-New-Jersey trade, no doubt upsetting Nets fans in the short run but helping the team in the long haul. Anthony is a selfish scorer who will never win a ring, unless he plays a supporting role on an all-star team. You don’t want him as a leader, and his petulance and lack of professionalism this season prove that…Here’s some more big NBA news: Brandon Jennings will be replaced in the NBA Slam Dunk Contest lineup by DeMar DeRozan. DeWho DeCares? If the league were smart, it would lower the rims to 9 feet and have a Legends Dunk Contest featuring Dr. J, Michael Jordan, Dominique Wilkins and Darnell Hillman’s mighty, mighty Afro…TV analyst Todd Woodbridge’s series of gaffes surrounding the shape of tennis star Kim Clijsters is priceless. First, he texted a friend that Clijsters seemed “grumpy” and that her “boobs are bigger,” indications to him that she was pregnant. Then, in a televised interview, he asked outright whether Clijsters was indeed in the family way. What’s next, telling Serena Williams that her outfit makes “her butt look big?” Wise up, Todd…Off of Oahu, surfing officials are gearing up for the possibility of a rare “Eddie,” the contest that only takes place when wave heights reach 20 feet. Boarders from all over will head to the islands for next Thursday’s contest. The only rule: First one to California wins…There was some big news in college basketball earlier this week when John Calipari cursed out one of his players. The horror! There were also rumors Tom Izzo yelled at a ref, Coach K made a sarcastic comment and Jim Boeheim whined. Please.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The only thing moderately surprising about Andy Reid’s decision to fire defensive coordinator Sean McDermott was that the Eagles’ coach told assembled media five days earlier that McDermott was coming back for the ’11 season. Reid usually equivocates in such situations, preferring instead to consider situations, look at film and read Tarot cards, rather than give a direct answer. Offering up McDermott makes perfect sense for a coach who is unwilling to take responsibility for his team’s defensive shortcomings. No amount of “that’s on me” comments can mask his rear-covering decision to axe McDermott, rather than acknowledge that not even Buddy Ryan could have crafted a bloodthirsty defense out of the shaky personnel Reid provided. The Eagles lack playmakers at all positions, have a crashing dearth of talent at cornerback behind Asante Samuel and don’t care about signing or drafting impact linebackers. Jim Johnson was a master, but he had far more talent at his disposal than did McDermott. It’s no surprise the coach was picked up immediately by the Panthers, because everybody around the league realized Reid was merely trying to protect himself at the expense of someone else. In the future, he’ll have to do a better job with that.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: As NFL commissioner Roger Goodell prepares for the lockout and the 18-game season designed to line owners’ wallets and cripple the workforce, he’s probably popping open bottles of champagne every hour to celebrate the league’s conference title game matchups. It’s almost perfect. No stupid uniforms like the Cardinals’ all-red jobs or any Titans combination. Both games will be played on grass. Outdoors. There is tradition. There are great QBs. Expect a ratings bonanza – and two pretty good football games. The Jets and linebacker Bart Scott “CAN’T WAIT!” for their trip to Pittsburgh, but that thinking may be a little short-sighted. Sure, the Jets beat the Steelers in December, but Troy Polamalu did not play that day for Pittsburgh. New York has been impressive in defeating Indy and the Bradys, but taking down three straight heavyweights on the road is too tall a task. Pittsburgh 23, New York 14. The 183rd renewal of the Bears-Packers rivalry is the biggest one yet and only the second post-season meeting between the historic foes. Expect a steady dose of old-school footage before the game – thankfully – and a pair of rough-and-tumble defenses once kickoff comes. Green Bay QB Aaron Rodgers gets the edge over Chicago’s Jay Cutler, even though Cutler has played well of late, but the difference in this one will be the Packers’ underrated D. Green Bay 24, Chicago 17.
-EH-
Friday, January 7, 2011
Ready For Some (Playoff) Football
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Earlier this week, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell sent out an intimate e-mail to about 5 million of the league’s customers declaring that labor peace will be achieved, and America’s number one sporting religion will not miss a minute of revenue gathering. On the confidence scale, it was akin to Justin Bieber’s saying he was ready to whip up on Randy Couture. Unless Goodell and his robber baron bosses can get players to accept a longer season, less money and a continued capricious approach to discipline – “The NFL: We care! (About offensive players.) – we’re looking at a work stoppage that could threaten the scintillating mini-camp, OTA and exhibition game portions of the program.
The biggest sham in the whole labor mess is the league’s insistence on an 18-game season. Or at least the P.R. run-up to it. After trying to convince us throughout the last several months that the players’ welfares were truly at the heart of league policy, Goodell and the billionaires want to add two games to the schedule, thereby expediting the future need for joint replacements and adding dozens more opportunities for players to endure the kind of dementia-inducing hits that already have 45-year old former warriors stumbling around like Lindsay Lohan on a bender.
Give Goodell and his propaganda ministers credit for concocting a scheme that has softened up fans in advance of the 18-game season. By fining (defensive) players for helmet-on-helmet hits and inventing terms like “defenseless receiver,” they have made it appear as if safety is the league’s top priority. This from a group of people who denied for years that blows to the head had dangerous short and long-term effects.
It is against that backdrop of hypocrisy that the NFL playoffs begin. Enjoy them, folks, because it could be many months before the big fellas start destroying their bodies for our enjoyment again. Of course, unless you live in New England, it’s going to be hard to derive too much pleasure from the proceedings, since the Patriots are so much better than everybody else that the tournament seems as pertinent as a public service announcement from the cast of “Jerseylicious.”
El Hombre isn’t so addled (yet) that he doesn’t remember the early February day in 2008, when the undefeated Pats lost to New York in the Super Bowl, delighting Mercury Morris and proving that nothing is guaranteed in the NFL. But this New England outfit seems different – and better equipped to go the distance – than did its predecessor. Tom Brady’s rock-star look notwithstanding, this is about the biggest blue-collar collection of successful players in recent memory. When your offensive skill package includes a Gronkowski, a Chadron State product, a double-hyphenated running back and a “star” receiver whose career average per catch is 10.7 yards, and you still lead the league in points scored, you have something special. And you want to talk about a “no-name” defense? Try these on for size: Banta-Cain, Ninkovich, Chung and Mayo. That sounds like one of those law firms you see advertised on local cable stations.
It all begins with Captain Hoodie, who espouses the philosophy that you don’t get the best 53 players; you get the right 53 players. For him, winning football is not the province of superstars but of players who want to sacrifice their egos for the system. That’s why he had no problem jettisoning overcooked wideout Randy Moss, once he went into full tantrum mode. It’s about production, not endorsements, and these Pats have a roster full of bottom-line players who appear invincible right now.
Of course, it’s rather easy to extol the proletarian virtues of a team when its QB is the best around. Brady is enjoying his second-best season (the remarkable ’07 campaign is out of reach), completing 65.9% of his passes and tossing 36 TD strikes against a mere four picks. He has maximized his production despite a stable of receivers that includes no big-play threat and precious little proven depth. That Brady is playing at such a high level is a testament to his powers, as well as the Patriots’ ability to outscheme and outexecute opponents. You may have more star power, but their team is superior to your big names.
That’s not to say the Pats are bulletproof. Baltimore smacked them around in Foxboro last year. The Steelers have shown plenty so far. And even Rex Ryan’s bunch is dangerous, provided it doesn’t fold up again in New England when the Pats start firing live ammunition, or if the coach gets distracted by a pair of sexy cheerleader feet.
Over in the NFC, the Falcons would like you to believe they are Super Bowl timber. They’re not. Roddy White is having a great year, but teams with just one receiver have problems against good post-season defenses. The scariest teams in that conference appear to be the two wild cards entries, New Orleans and Green Bay. The Saints beat Atlanta on the road a couple weeks ago and still have Drew Brees under center, last time El Hombre checked. The Packers, meanwhile, get plenty of attention for their great passing game, but it’s the Green Bay defense – ranked fifth in the NFL – that is the team’s biggest asset, particularly on the road. Don’t be surprised if one (or even both) of them is in the NFC title game.
That’s a few weeks off. Right now, fans need to get ready for the Wild Card round and perhaps the last time early January football will be of the playoff variety. If commissioner Goodwill and his owners get their wishes, this time of year will still be regular season, contusions and concussions be damned. Stay tuned for the next e-mail.
Here are this week’s playoff picks. Get ready to cash in, baby! New Orleans minus-10.5 over Seattle; Indianapolis minus-2.5 over the Jets; Baltimore minus-3 over Kansas City; Green Bay plus-2.5 against the Eagles.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: So, LeBron James has dubbed Miami the “Heatles,” has he? Clever, but James forgets one thing: People actually cheered when the Beatles came to town. He and his made-for-championship cronies don’t engender similar affection…Don’t know about you, but El Hombre has been riveted to the post-Jan. 1 bowl action. You just can’t beat a Middle Tennessee-Miami (OH) matchup. And that Kentucky-Pittsburgh clash promises to be a real humdinger. Looking for a culprit? Consider espn, which continues to manipulate everything it can about sports to suit its programming needs…Kudos to caring Penn State coach Joe Paterno, who denied quarterback Robert Bolden’s request for transfer. It isn’t enough that schools can terminate players’ scholarships after each season or run them off when their performance doesn’t match expectation. Now, Paterno wants to restrain an unhappy player from finding a better situation. Let your people go, Joe…Rafael Palmeiro is upset that he received only 11% of the vote in the recent Hall of Fame balloting and still blames someone else for his positive steroid test. Tough darts. Let’s hope voters continue to punish the juicers by denying them entrance to the Hall. If that means fewer members, so be it…Stay tuned to this space for periodic updates on the shocking scandal that has rocked the cricket world. Three Pakistani players have been accused of bowling “no-balls” at prearranged times during a test match with England and face lifetime bans. Speaking of no balls, how about that “performance” by Miami in the Sun Bowl. The Hurricane players dressed like they were ready for a forced march to Murmansk and played like they couldn’t wait to get back to Coral Gables. New coach Al Golden has plenty of work to do.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Many media members and plenty of fans are devoting substantial energy to the Packers’ passing attack when assessing Sunday’s Green Bay-Philadelphia wild-card playoff game. While Aaron Rodgers and his crew of sticky-handed receivers are extremely dangerous, the real challenge for the Eagles comes from the Packer defense, which ranks fifth in the NFL and is no doubt frothing at the opportunity to see whether Michael Vick will continue his regression to the run-around QB he was in Atlanta. In a way, you can’t blame Vick’s move backward. He’s learning a brand new way to play the position, so it’s natural that he uses his instincts as a default reaction to new and more dangerous schemes from rival defenses. Plus, since he’s behind such a shaky offensive line, it’s hard to hang in and progress to the third read when marauding blitzers are charging toward him. If the Eagles want to have a chance Sunday, they had better keep Vick clean. Otherwise, he’ll be running around and likely commit backbreaking turnovers that will contribute to an early post-season exit.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: By waiting until Jan. 5 to make Rich Rodriguez’s dismissal official, Michigan head coach David Brandon added extra pressure to his search for a new head football coach. Worse, if he truly believed Rodriguez could have saved his job with a strong bowl showing against the SEC West’s fifth-place team, Wolverine fans shouldn’t have too much faith in his ability to choose the right man to replace Rodriguez. It was obvious to everybody that Rodriguez had to leave, and U-M’s ugly losses to Wisconsin and Ohio State proved that. If Brandon needed to see the Wolverines stumble around in the second half against Mississippi State(!) in order to decide Rodriguez’s fate, he wasn’t paying much attention the rest of the season. Let’s hope he was merely trying to save the $1.5 mil that came off Rodriguez’s buyout after Jan. 1 and that he has been compiling candidates all along and working back channels to make the right hire. And don’t think it has to be someone who is necessarily a “Michigan Man.” For instance, even though Northwestern coach Pat Fitzgerald has denied interest, he is definitely considering the spot but keeping it very quiet, due to his current post as a Big Ten head coach.
-EH-
Earlier this week, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell sent out an intimate e-mail to about 5 million of the league’s customers declaring that labor peace will be achieved, and America’s number one sporting religion will not miss a minute of revenue gathering. On the confidence scale, it was akin to Justin Bieber’s saying he was ready to whip up on Randy Couture. Unless Goodell and his robber baron bosses can get players to accept a longer season, less money and a continued capricious approach to discipline – “The NFL: We care! (About offensive players.) – we’re looking at a work stoppage that could threaten the scintillating mini-camp, OTA and exhibition game portions of the program.
The biggest sham in the whole labor mess is the league’s insistence on an 18-game season. Or at least the P.R. run-up to it. After trying to convince us throughout the last several months that the players’ welfares were truly at the heart of league policy, Goodell and the billionaires want to add two games to the schedule, thereby expediting the future need for joint replacements and adding dozens more opportunities for players to endure the kind of dementia-inducing hits that already have 45-year old former warriors stumbling around like Lindsay Lohan on a bender.
Give Goodell and his propaganda ministers credit for concocting a scheme that has softened up fans in advance of the 18-game season. By fining (defensive) players for helmet-on-helmet hits and inventing terms like “defenseless receiver,” they have made it appear as if safety is the league’s top priority. This from a group of people who denied for years that blows to the head had dangerous short and long-term effects.
It is against that backdrop of hypocrisy that the NFL playoffs begin. Enjoy them, folks, because it could be many months before the big fellas start destroying their bodies for our enjoyment again. Of course, unless you live in New England, it’s going to be hard to derive too much pleasure from the proceedings, since the Patriots are so much better than everybody else that the tournament seems as pertinent as a public service announcement from the cast of “Jerseylicious.”
El Hombre isn’t so addled (yet) that he doesn’t remember the early February day in 2008, when the undefeated Pats lost to New York in the Super Bowl, delighting Mercury Morris and proving that nothing is guaranteed in the NFL. But this New England outfit seems different – and better equipped to go the distance – than did its predecessor. Tom Brady’s rock-star look notwithstanding, this is about the biggest blue-collar collection of successful players in recent memory. When your offensive skill package includes a Gronkowski, a Chadron State product, a double-hyphenated running back and a “star” receiver whose career average per catch is 10.7 yards, and you still lead the league in points scored, you have something special. And you want to talk about a “no-name” defense? Try these on for size: Banta-Cain, Ninkovich, Chung and Mayo. That sounds like one of those law firms you see advertised on local cable stations.
It all begins with Captain Hoodie, who espouses the philosophy that you don’t get the best 53 players; you get the right 53 players. For him, winning football is not the province of superstars but of players who want to sacrifice their egos for the system. That’s why he had no problem jettisoning overcooked wideout Randy Moss, once he went into full tantrum mode. It’s about production, not endorsements, and these Pats have a roster full of bottom-line players who appear invincible right now.
Of course, it’s rather easy to extol the proletarian virtues of a team when its QB is the best around. Brady is enjoying his second-best season (the remarkable ’07 campaign is out of reach), completing 65.9% of his passes and tossing 36 TD strikes against a mere four picks. He has maximized his production despite a stable of receivers that includes no big-play threat and precious little proven depth. That Brady is playing at such a high level is a testament to his powers, as well as the Patriots’ ability to outscheme and outexecute opponents. You may have more star power, but their team is superior to your big names.
That’s not to say the Pats are bulletproof. Baltimore smacked them around in Foxboro last year. The Steelers have shown plenty so far. And even Rex Ryan’s bunch is dangerous, provided it doesn’t fold up again in New England when the Pats start firing live ammunition, or if the coach gets distracted by a pair of sexy cheerleader feet.
Over in the NFC, the Falcons would like you to believe they are Super Bowl timber. They’re not. Roddy White is having a great year, but teams with just one receiver have problems against good post-season defenses. The scariest teams in that conference appear to be the two wild cards entries, New Orleans and Green Bay. The Saints beat Atlanta on the road a couple weeks ago and still have Drew Brees under center, last time El Hombre checked. The Packers, meanwhile, get plenty of attention for their great passing game, but it’s the Green Bay defense – ranked fifth in the NFL – that is the team’s biggest asset, particularly on the road. Don’t be surprised if one (or even both) of them is in the NFC title game.
That’s a few weeks off. Right now, fans need to get ready for the Wild Card round and perhaps the last time early January football will be of the playoff variety. If commissioner Goodwill and his owners get their wishes, this time of year will still be regular season, contusions and concussions be damned. Stay tuned for the next e-mail.
Here are this week’s playoff picks. Get ready to cash in, baby! New Orleans minus-10.5 over Seattle; Indianapolis minus-2.5 over the Jets; Baltimore minus-3 over Kansas City; Green Bay plus-2.5 against the Eagles.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: So, LeBron James has dubbed Miami the “Heatles,” has he? Clever, but James forgets one thing: People actually cheered when the Beatles came to town. He and his made-for-championship cronies don’t engender similar affection…Don’t know about you, but El Hombre has been riveted to the post-Jan. 1 bowl action. You just can’t beat a Middle Tennessee-Miami (OH) matchup. And that Kentucky-Pittsburgh clash promises to be a real humdinger. Looking for a culprit? Consider espn, which continues to manipulate everything it can about sports to suit its programming needs…Kudos to caring Penn State coach Joe Paterno, who denied quarterback Robert Bolden’s request for transfer. It isn’t enough that schools can terminate players’ scholarships after each season or run them off when their performance doesn’t match expectation. Now, Paterno wants to restrain an unhappy player from finding a better situation. Let your people go, Joe…Rafael Palmeiro is upset that he received only 11% of the vote in the recent Hall of Fame balloting and still blames someone else for his positive steroid test. Tough darts. Let’s hope voters continue to punish the juicers by denying them entrance to the Hall. If that means fewer members, so be it…Stay tuned to this space for periodic updates on the shocking scandal that has rocked the cricket world. Three Pakistani players have been accused of bowling “no-balls” at prearranged times during a test match with England and face lifetime bans. Speaking of no balls, how about that “performance” by Miami in the Sun Bowl. The Hurricane players dressed like they were ready for a forced march to Murmansk and played like they couldn’t wait to get back to Coral Gables. New coach Al Golden has plenty of work to do.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Many media members and plenty of fans are devoting substantial energy to the Packers’ passing attack when assessing Sunday’s Green Bay-Philadelphia wild-card playoff game. While Aaron Rodgers and his crew of sticky-handed receivers are extremely dangerous, the real challenge for the Eagles comes from the Packer defense, which ranks fifth in the NFL and is no doubt frothing at the opportunity to see whether Michael Vick will continue his regression to the run-around QB he was in Atlanta. In a way, you can’t blame Vick’s move backward. He’s learning a brand new way to play the position, so it’s natural that he uses his instincts as a default reaction to new and more dangerous schemes from rival defenses. Plus, since he’s behind such a shaky offensive line, it’s hard to hang in and progress to the third read when marauding blitzers are charging toward him. If the Eagles want to have a chance Sunday, they had better keep Vick clean. Otherwise, he’ll be running around and likely commit backbreaking turnovers that will contribute to an early post-season exit.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: By waiting until Jan. 5 to make Rich Rodriguez’s dismissal official, Michigan head coach David Brandon added extra pressure to his search for a new head football coach. Worse, if he truly believed Rodriguez could have saved his job with a strong bowl showing against the SEC West’s fifth-place team, Wolverine fans shouldn’t have too much faith in his ability to choose the right man to replace Rodriguez. It was obvious to everybody that Rodriguez had to leave, and U-M’s ugly losses to Wisconsin and Ohio State proved that. If Brandon needed to see the Wolverines stumble around in the second half against Mississippi State(!) in order to decide Rodriguez’s fate, he wasn’t paying much attention the rest of the season. Let’s hope he was merely trying to save the $1.5 mil that came off Rodriguez’s buyout after Jan. 1 and that he has been compiling candidates all along and working back channels to make the right hire. And don’t think it has to be someone who is necessarily a “Michigan Man.” For instance, even though Northwestern coach Pat Fitzgerald has denied interest, he is definitely considering the spot but keeping it very quiet, due to his current post as a Big Ten head coach.
-EH-
Friday, September 10, 2010
Get It While You Can
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Make sure you squeeze every drop of NFL action you can out of this season, sports fans, because the way things look, it’s going to be a long while before the big fellas are hitting again. You want to talk Hard Knocks? Try what the owners are going to do to the players in the upcoming labor negotiations.
Unlike Paul Tagliabue, who preached conciliation and practically was pinned to former labor boss Gene Upshaw, Roger Goodell is a war-time consigliere, and that suits capos like False Face, Captain Mac-and-Cheese, Little Danny and The B-Movie King just fine. They want more dough, and Goodell won’t stop squinting until he gets it for them.
This time next year, expect a lockout, enough angry rhetoric to fill a presidential election cycle and some posse members looking for real work. With that specter looming like a swimsuit competition on The View, let’s make the most of the coming NFL season and all of its glorious plot lines.
Sigmund Freud’s All-Stars: During Field of Dreams, Terence Mann asks Ray Kinsella, “You’re seeing an entire team of psychiatrists, aren’t you?” but he could well have been addressing the Bengals’ trio of Chad Ochocrazy, Me-O and “Make It Rain” Jones, who will no doubt lead Cincinnati coach Marvin Lewis to the shrink’s couch this season. You can always count on Cincy for something bizarre, whether it’s the team’s previous front office circus, its hideous uniforms or its proclivity for coming up short in key situations. This year may establish a new standard. Jones has pledged to keep his mouth shut and even shed his toxic “Pac-Man” moniker, but keeping a lid on the Ativan Twins may prove impossible for the franchise. Get ready for a season of can-you-top-this lunacy that could land Lewis in the Laughing Academy – or on the bread line.
Jersey Sure: After watching his performance during HBO’s Hard Knocks, network execs were no doubt salivating over the concept of The Rex Ryan Variety Show. You know, a little song, a little dance, a pair of double-XL pants. It sure was fun watching the Big Fella bludgeon the Jets through the pre-season, and now Ryan must navigate a league filled with people who want to beat the hell out of his team. That may sound fine to the coach, but he’s not the one out there cracking heads. The Jets have a new stadium of their own (or at least half of a new stadium) and a lot of talent. They also have the undivided attention of each opponent. That’s not the best thing with a young QB still learning how to pass to his teammates. But at least Ryan is ready for his close-up. And safe on the sidelines.
Into the Sunset (Maybe): El Hombre can assure you that this is the final season for Cowboy Quarterback. He’ll hang ‘em up after throwing another crushing post-season interception and never – EVER – ride Old Paint onto the gridiron again. Unless he doesn’t. Unless his dad-gum love of NFL football overpowers reason and his saddle-sore body. Unless his love of slapping backsides, throwin’ snowballs and just living every kid’s dream is too powerful. Unless being with “his guys” in the locker room is better than being with “his family” on the ranch in Mississippi. Unless the Vikings send Joe Kapp, Mick Tinglehoff and Leif Ericson to beg him. Here are a couple fearless predictions regarding Number Four: 1. He doesn’t play every game; 2. He goes into seclusion when the Packers reach the Super Bowl.
Exile on C Street: Many Eagles fans got their wish in April when their team shipped out QB Donovan McNabb and began the much-anticipated Kevin Kolb Era. Forget that half the city still can’t pronounce the young passer’s last name (KOBB) or that when the Birds drafted him four years ago few knew where he had played his college ball or had ever watched him perform. He wasn’t McNabb, and that was good enough for them. While Kolb endures his inevitable growing pains, McNabb tries to help turn the fetid Redskins into contenders. It won’t be easy, no matter how solid new coach Mike Shanahan’s track record might be. And if McNabb thought D.C. was a sanctuary, wait ‘til the tough times come, and even the team’s broadcasters start tossing bombs at him. The good news is that Fat Albert will be a scapegoat for another week or so, before he’s traded away – hopefully to Vladivostok – but then the pressure shifts to McNabb. So, go ahead, folks and make him feel at home. All together now: “BOOOOOO!!!”
No Super Home: Every night, False Face gets under his Cowboys comforter, smoothes out his America’s Team pajamas and prays fervently that his team will play in the Super Bowl next February – in his colossal TV lounge, er, stadium. Ever since NFL fans realized the Big Game was being held in the pleasure dome, there has been much wringing of hands over the concept that the Cowboys could actually play for all the skittles at home. Well, fret not, America. It ain’t happening. In fact, thanks to their shaky O-line, overrated ballcarrier (Marion Barber) and stubborn insistence on keeping Roy Williams around, the Cowboys have as much chance of realizing False Face’s Super dreams as he does of reprising Alistair Cooke’s role as host of Masterpiece Theater. Sorry, FF, it’s another February at home.
Fearless Predictions: Cowboy Quarterback’s streak of playing in every game will be snapped this year, thanks to a cranky ankle and a Geritol deficit…Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis confronts his own mortality, growls at it, snarls at it but ultimately succumbs to it…The Lions won’t stink. Neither will the Raiders. The Bills, however, will…Say good-bye to the following coaches: Mangenius, Jack Del Rio, Lovie Smith and Tom Coughlin…Rookie of the Year: C.J. Spiller, Bills. MVP: Peyton Manning, Colts.
And the Envelope, Please: NFC Division Winners: East – Dallas; North – Green Bay; South – New Orleans; West – San Francisco. Wild Cards – Minnesota, Atlanta. Wild Card Round: Minnesota over San Francisco; Dallas over Atlanta; Divisional Round: Green Bay over New Orleans; Dallas over Minnesota; NFC Championship: Green Bay over Dallas.
AFC Division Winners: East – New England; North – Baltimore; South – Indianapolis; West – San Diego. Wild Cards – New York Jets, Pittsburgh. Wild Card Round: New England over Pittsburgh; Baltimore over Jets; Divisional Round: Indianapolis over New England; San Diego over Baltimore; AFC Championship: Indianapolis over San Diego.
Super Bowl XLV: Indianapolis 27, Green Bay 23.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The uniforms worn by Boise State and Virginia Tech Monday night made the costumes worn by the teams in “On Any Given Sunday” seem staid. Packer Rick said it best during the game: “I now have to watch Penn State-Alabama Saturday to get this out of my mind.” It will be refreshing to see a pair of teams whose sartorial tastes are nowhere near the nightmare paint favored by the Hokies and Broncos…The NC2A has “reprimanded” and “censured” Princeton for a “major” women’s tennis violation. Sounds about right for the Ivies. No probation here. That’s for the plebeians. If Muffy took some cash from “Uncle” Worthington at the Club, then shame on her, and by all means, admonish, reprove and even scold Old Nassau. Then, it’s off to the veranda for some ginnies…Guess Tony LaRussa isn’t such a genius when his team goes 7-16 and slides out of contention. But at least those great St. Louis fans keep cheering the losses…Back in the late 1980s, when Rumeal Robinson was leading Michigan to the top of the college hoops world, Dookie V used to bleat that the Wolverine guard would be “the CEO of a major corporation some day!” Now, Robinson is facing 30 years in stir for defrauding a bank on a $700,000 loan. Sad…In trouble due to an illness suffered by its bid chief and enduring problems with some cranky farmers, Munich has turned to Katerina Witt to spearhead its campaign for the 2018 Winter Olympics. The former figure skating star may not be able to overcome the German setback, but two things are certain. First, those farmers will fall in line, or they’ll be sent to the Russian front. Two, nobody can touch Witt in the swimsuit competition.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? When the game clock hits zero Sunday, you won’t find Chuck Bednarik sitting on Jim Taylor, making sure the Packers can’t run another play, as happened at the end of the 1960 NFL championship game between the Eagles and Green Bay. More than likely time will expire with a deep knee bend by Packer QB Aaron Rodgers, icing the win for the visitors and ruining the Birds’ nostalgia day. The 2010 opener represents the two stages of NFL rebuilding. Philly is in the early stages of its new identity, while the Pack has developed its personality fully. Rodgers may not throw for 300 yards Sunday, but he will have his moments – and plenty of them. Meanwhile, Kolb will look good at times and lost in other situations. Meanwhile, the Eagle ground game will suffer behind a shaky offensive line that tries to overcome a nasty Green Bay 3-4, and an average secondary will have problems controlling Rodgers, Donald Driver and Co. Don’t push the panic button yet, Eagles fans, but do notice the difference between a maturing contender and a work in progress. Green Bay 24, Eagles 13.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Last week in Atlanta, North Carolina was without 13 players, due to various hints and allegations. Georgia WR A.J. Green is out for three more contests due to off-field shenanigans, and several of his teammates have been arrested over the past year. Michigan awaits its probationary sentence. Missouri dismissed its leading rusher after he was charged with sexual assault. All over the country, schools are compromising themselves by hiring and recruiting people who have no business being part of university communities – all in the pursuit of greater glory and money. Mostly money. The coaches are compromising established standards by searching for advantages anywhere they can and by bringing aboard players with questionable backgrounds and no commitment to their schools, other than on the field. With the competition for dollars so acute, we can’t expect a change in this behavior anytime soon. The only antidote is president-led reform that puts in place stringent standards for coaches and players and keeps the bad actors away from the front door, much less in the house. For a while, this kind of behavior was confined to the so-called “bandit” schools, which operated on the fringes and didn’t care much about their reputations. But when establishment members like Michigan and North Carolina are stung by impropriety, it shows how widespread the trouble is. And it’s time for a change.
-EH-
Make sure you squeeze every drop of NFL action you can out of this season, sports fans, because the way things look, it’s going to be a long while before the big fellas are hitting again. You want to talk Hard Knocks? Try what the owners are going to do to the players in the upcoming labor negotiations.
Unlike Paul Tagliabue, who preached conciliation and practically was pinned to former labor boss Gene Upshaw, Roger Goodell is a war-time consigliere, and that suits capos like False Face, Captain Mac-and-Cheese, Little Danny and The B-Movie King just fine. They want more dough, and Goodell won’t stop squinting until he gets it for them.
This time next year, expect a lockout, enough angry rhetoric to fill a presidential election cycle and some posse members looking for real work. With that specter looming like a swimsuit competition on The View, let’s make the most of the coming NFL season and all of its glorious plot lines.
Sigmund Freud’s All-Stars: During Field of Dreams, Terence Mann asks Ray Kinsella, “You’re seeing an entire team of psychiatrists, aren’t you?” but he could well have been addressing the Bengals’ trio of Chad Ochocrazy, Me-O and “Make It Rain” Jones, who will no doubt lead Cincinnati coach Marvin Lewis to the shrink’s couch this season. You can always count on Cincy for something bizarre, whether it’s the team’s previous front office circus, its hideous uniforms or its proclivity for coming up short in key situations. This year may establish a new standard. Jones has pledged to keep his mouth shut and even shed his toxic “Pac-Man” moniker, but keeping a lid on the Ativan Twins may prove impossible for the franchise. Get ready for a season of can-you-top-this lunacy that could land Lewis in the Laughing Academy – or on the bread line.
Jersey Sure: After watching his performance during HBO’s Hard Knocks, network execs were no doubt salivating over the concept of The Rex Ryan Variety Show. You know, a little song, a little dance, a pair of double-XL pants. It sure was fun watching the Big Fella bludgeon the Jets through the pre-season, and now Ryan must navigate a league filled with people who want to beat the hell out of his team. That may sound fine to the coach, but he’s not the one out there cracking heads. The Jets have a new stadium of their own (or at least half of a new stadium) and a lot of talent. They also have the undivided attention of each opponent. That’s not the best thing with a young QB still learning how to pass to his teammates. But at least Ryan is ready for his close-up. And safe on the sidelines.
Into the Sunset (Maybe): El Hombre can assure you that this is the final season for Cowboy Quarterback. He’ll hang ‘em up after throwing another crushing post-season interception and never – EVER – ride Old Paint onto the gridiron again. Unless he doesn’t. Unless his dad-gum love of NFL football overpowers reason and his saddle-sore body. Unless his love of slapping backsides, throwin’ snowballs and just living every kid’s dream is too powerful. Unless being with “his guys” in the locker room is better than being with “his family” on the ranch in Mississippi. Unless the Vikings send Joe Kapp, Mick Tinglehoff and Leif Ericson to beg him. Here are a couple fearless predictions regarding Number Four: 1. He doesn’t play every game; 2. He goes into seclusion when the Packers reach the Super Bowl.
Exile on C Street: Many Eagles fans got their wish in April when their team shipped out QB Donovan McNabb and began the much-anticipated Kevin Kolb Era. Forget that half the city still can’t pronounce the young passer’s last name (KOBB) or that when the Birds drafted him four years ago few knew where he had played his college ball or had ever watched him perform. He wasn’t McNabb, and that was good enough for them. While Kolb endures his inevitable growing pains, McNabb tries to help turn the fetid Redskins into contenders. It won’t be easy, no matter how solid new coach Mike Shanahan’s track record might be. And if McNabb thought D.C. was a sanctuary, wait ‘til the tough times come, and even the team’s broadcasters start tossing bombs at him. The good news is that Fat Albert will be a scapegoat for another week or so, before he’s traded away – hopefully to Vladivostok – but then the pressure shifts to McNabb. So, go ahead, folks and make him feel at home. All together now: “BOOOOOO!!!”
No Super Home: Every night, False Face gets under his Cowboys comforter, smoothes out his America’s Team pajamas and prays fervently that his team will play in the Super Bowl next February – in his colossal TV lounge, er, stadium. Ever since NFL fans realized the Big Game was being held in the pleasure dome, there has been much wringing of hands over the concept that the Cowboys could actually play for all the skittles at home. Well, fret not, America. It ain’t happening. In fact, thanks to their shaky O-line, overrated ballcarrier (Marion Barber) and stubborn insistence on keeping Roy Williams around, the Cowboys have as much chance of realizing False Face’s Super dreams as he does of reprising Alistair Cooke’s role as host of Masterpiece Theater. Sorry, FF, it’s another February at home.
Fearless Predictions: Cowboy Quarterback’s streak of playing in every game will be snapped this year, thanks to a cranky ankle and a Geritol deficit…Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis confronts his own mortality, growls at it, snarls at it but ultimately succumbs to it…The Lions won’t stink. Neither will the Raiders. The Bills, however, will…Say good-bye to the following coaches: Mangenius, Jack Del Rio, Lovie Smith and Tom Coughlin…Rookie of the Year: C.J. Spiller, Bills. MVP: Peyton Manning, Colts.
And the Envelope, Please: NFC Division Winners: East – Dallas; North – Green Bay; South – New Orleans; West – San Francisco. Wild Cards – Minnesota, Atlanta. Wild Card Round: Minnesota over San Francisco; Dallas over Atlanta; Divisional Round: Green Bay over New Orleans; Dallas over Minnesota; NFC Championship: Green Bay over Dallas.
AFC Division Winners: East – New England; North – Baltimore; South – Indianapolis; West – San Diego. Wild Cards – New York Jets, Pittsburgh. Wild Card Round: New England over Pittsburgh; Baltimore over Jets; Divisional Round: Indianapolis over New England; San Diego over Baltimore; AFC Championship: Indianapolis over San Diego.
Super Bowl XLV: Indianapolis 27, Green Bay 23.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: The uniforms worn by Boise State and Virginia Tech Monday night made the costumes worn by the teams in “On Any Given Sunday” seem staid. Packer Rick said it best during the game: “I now have to watch Penn State-Alabama Saturday to get this out of my mind.” It will be refreshing to see a pair of teams whose sartorial tastes are nowhere near the nightmare paint favored by the Hokies and Broncos…The NC2A has “reprimanded” and “censured” Princeton for a “major” women’s tennis violation. Sounds about right for the Ivies. No probation here. That’s for the plebeians. If Muffy took some cash from “Uncle” Worthington at the Club, then shame on her, and by all means, admonish, reprove and even scold Old Nassau. Then, it’s off to the veranda for some ginnies…Guess Tony LaRussa isn’t such a genius when his team goes 7-16 and slides out of contention. But at least those great St. Louis fans keep cheering the losses…Back in the late 1980s, when Rumeal Robinson was leading Michigan to the top of the college hoops world, Dookie V used to bleat that the Wolverine guard would be “the CEO of a major corporation some day!” Now, Robinson is facing 30 years in stir for defrauding a bank on a $700,000 loan. Sad…In trouble due to an illness suffered by its bid chief and enduring problems with some cranky farmers, Munich has turned to Katerina Witt to spearhead its campaign for the 2018 Winter Olympics. The former figure skating star may not be able to overcome the German setback, but two things are certain. First, those farmers will fall in line, or they’ll be sent to the Russian front. Two, nobody can touch Witt in the swimsuit competition.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? When the game clock hits zero Sunday, you won’t find Chuck Bednarik sitting on Jim Taylor, making sure the Packers can’t run another play, as happened at the end of the 1960 NFL championship game between the Eagles and Green Bay. More than likely time will expire with a deep knee bend by Packer QB Aaron Rodgers, icing the win for the visitors and ruining the Birds’ nostalgia day. The 2010 opener represents the two stages of NFL rebuilding. Philly is in the early stages of its new identity, while the Pack has developed its personality fully. Rodgers may not throw for 300 yards Sunday, but he will have his moments – and plenty of them. Meanwhile, Kolb will look good at times and lost in other situations. Meanwhile, the Eagle ground game will suffer behind a shaky offensive line that tries to overcome a nasty Green Bay 3-4, and an average secondary will have problems controlling Rodgers, Donald Driver and Co. Don’t push the panic button yet, Eagles fans, but do notice the difference between a maturing contender and a work in progress. Green Bay 24, Eagles 13.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Last week in Atlanta, North Carolina was without 13 players, due to various hints and allegations. Georgia WR A.J. Green is out for three more contests due to off-field shenanigans, and several of his teammates have been arrested over the past year. Michigan awaits its probationary sentence. Missouri dismissed its leading rusher after he was charged with sexual assault. All over the country, schools are compromising themselves by hiring and recruiting people who have no business being part of university communities – all in the pursuit of greater glory and money. Mostly money. The coaches are compromising established standards by searching for advantages anywhere they can and by bringing aboard players with questionable backgrounds and no commitment to their schools, other than on the field. With the competition for dollars so acute, we can’t expect a change in this behavior anytime soon. The only antidote is president-led reform that puts in place stringent standards for coaches and players and keeps the bad actors away from the front door, much less in the house. For a while, this kind of behavior was confined to the so-called “bandit” schools, which operated on the fringes and didn’t care much about their reputations. But when establishment members like Michigan and North Carolina are stung by impropriety, it shows how widespread the trouble is. And it’s time for a change.
-EH-
Friday, July 23, 2010
(Not-so) Secret Agent Men
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Earlier this week, El Hombre had the opportunity to speak to the coach of a prestigious D-I hoops program about various and sundry items, including the current tidal of wave of accusations sweeping the southern football community regarding improper contact (sounds like a Class C sexual assault charge) and payments by agents. Just to show you how much of a biosphere these guys inhabit, he had not heard about the ongoing NC2A investigations and the near-daily revelations of more programs in trouble, despite minute-by-minute updates on the Worldwide Leech’s bottom line that rivaled the drool-soaked dispatches about Dwyane Wade’s Little Brother’s free-agent future.
“LeBron to announce to announce future tonight on ‘Disgrace.’”
“LeBron eats breakfast burrito at Sonic.”
“LeBron pops Prilosec.”
“LeBron takes talents to South Beach”
“NBA greats ridicule LeBron.”
You get the idea. This thing hasn’t exactly been under the radar. Any time you can get Nick Saban to call a group of people “pimps,” it’s big news. So, Said Basketball Coach must be up to his AAU-addled noggin in street agents, crazy uncles and one-and-done-abees, or else he would know about it.
Anyway, earlier this summer, SBC happened to be watching a fine crop of student-athletes playing for the high-character types who operate summer-league teams at something called the “Peach Jam” in Augusta, GA. Next to him was an NC2A executive, whose areas of expertise were “gaming and agents,” which sounds sort of like a course of study at LSU. Anyway, the topic of agents came up, and the NC2A type said that there are actually people inside the Association who believe collegians should be able to have agents.
SBC was dumbfounded, and said something along the lines of “Then, they shouldn’t be employed,” in response, except with a couple of words that rhyme with “truck” and “ducking” sprinkled in. As you might imagine, the thought that players could some day have “representation” is enough to make SBC and his brethren re-think their million-dollar contracts. Okay, maybe they won’t go that far, but there will be a lot more people who look like Jim Boeheim prowling the football and basketball sidelines should that become a reality.
For those of you who don’t spend hours tracking the news and network propaganda that trundles across the bottom of the screen during espn’s programming, here’s a quick recap of what’s going on with all those proud southern football programs. It began late last week with the news that North Carolina had attracted the gumshoes, due to hints and allegations that star defensive tackle Marvin Austin and others may have received cash and prizes – cars, trips, swag – from agents and other unsavories. The NC2A look-see has been characterized as “major,” and if Austin and others are found to have been on the payroll, UNC could find itself in Azkaban. The same goes for South Carolina, Florida, Alabama and Georgia. That’s just for starters. There will be others, count on it.
(An aside: Good news for Michigan fans: Since your heroes have been so poor lately, there’s no chance agents are heading to Ann Arbor with big money and fast rides, so that’s one investigation U-M will dodge.)
As you might imagine, the CEOs of the programs in question aren’t happy. But instead of railing at the NC2A, they’re taking on the agents. Thus, Saban’s “pimps” comment. Things have gotten so bad that we were actually able to see footage of Saban and UF boss Urban VI Meyer standing – albeit uncomfortably – together at SEC Media Day without one trying to plunge a grappling hook into the other’s back.
College coaches are sure to be united about this problem, which is particularly challenging for them, since it’s impossible to keep track of every creepy crawler that slinks onto campus. Believe it or not, Pete Carroll wasn’t at the Omega Psi Phi and Alpha Phi Alpha throwdowns at USC. Nor was he at the Matt Leinart Hot Tub-a-thon. So, it was hard to know with whom his star players were associating, be it Lloyd Lane, Jerry McGuire, Arliss Michaels or any of their intermediaries.
What’s happening is that football players are starting to get agitated about the three-year hitch they’re required to serve before heading to the NFL. They see their basketball counterparts bolting after six months on campus for the pot-o-gold, and they’re jealous. Worse, the basketball savants only have to go to a semester-and-a-half of classes, quite different from two-plus, not to mention all the summer school work to make up for the bad grades in season. So, when someone offers them the keys to a car or a few (thousand) dollars to drop on some Rocawear or Abercrombie apparel, they figure they’re entitled. And since football teams have 22 starters, instead of five, and there are seven rounds in the NFL draft, versus two in the NBA version, there are more targets for aspiring representatives.
There are two things that can be done about this. One is easy for the NC2A. The other will require more finesse. The first involves changing the NC2A rule that allows players to speak with agents, so long as they don’t receive any benefits (meals, transportation, Bentleys). The NC2A has to prohibit players from talking to agents, period. Once contact is made, the door is open. It won’t be easy to track every player’s conversations and movements, but it would be easier for coaches and other administrators to get rid of any agents or their lieutenants who show up on campus. Why else would a runner be in Lawrence, KS, but to speak with a potential client? Once he’s there, he’s banished. And it’s up to the NC2A to put that person on a list that prohibits him from participating in any official event on campus, be it a Pro Day or any kind of showcase workout. It’s not perfect, but it would clear up some of the gray areas.
If the players are found talking to the agents, they are suspended immediately. People forget that these are adults who are warned regularly about which people to avoid.
The second involves the NFL and NBA, which have to start cracking down on agents who give improper benefits. Saban is right on this one. He says anybody found to have provided an improper benefit should lose his certification with the leagues for two years. That might sound harsh, and it would be difficult to do, since the leagues’ players associations govern agent activity, and they’re unlikely to go after the people who negotiate their contracts. But it would help.
Then there is the Big Acquiescence. Let the players have agents. Open it up to all comers. Stop the madness. And, while
we’re at it, let’s just make college sports entirely separate from the institutions they purport to represent. Some athletic programs have already taken steps in that direction with their runaway budgets, lip service to academics and other practices, but this would just about end the old model completely. Hey, if we’re headed in that direction already. Why not finish the job? Let the players have agents. Recruit cheerleaders from strip clubs. And if coaches don’t win? Public executions.
SBC and his brethren would love that. Just imagine their responses when Agent X marches into their office and says, “Coach, we have to talk about my client’s playing time.”
Get ready for more words that rhyme with cluck.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Folks in Miami are trying to come up with a suitable nickname for Dwyane Wade, LeBron James and Chris Bosh. Here’s a suggestion: “Syrup of Ipecac,” because the mere thought of how it all went down induces vomiting… If Eldrick Woods is going to play this poorly for the next several years, expect golf’s ratings to join those of cycling, bowling and Notre Dame football in the Nielsen outhouse. It isn’t unreasonable to think he’s on the downside of a great, possibly Galea-induced, career. That would be catastrophic for the PGA, which has no other bankable starts (Lefty doesn’t win enough) and can’t be happy when South African word jumbles win at St. Andrew’s…Former Raiders QB/Thanksgiving float JaMarcus Russell has pleaded not guilty to charges of illegal drug possession after being arrested under suspicion of having codeine syrup (aka “Purple Drank”) on his person. Russell might walk on those charges, but he still has to deal with the grand larceny accusation stemming from his theft of millions from the Oakland franchise…A federal judge ruled Wednesday that “competitive cheerleading” is not an official sport and can’t be used by colleges to satisfy gender-equity mandates. When asked about the ruling, Florida State cheer captain Muffy Capstone replied, “As if!”…A report out of Mississippi says that Vikings coach Brad Childress did not discuss a deadline with Cowboy Quarterback for when he needs to be in camp. One witness to the discussion between the two men reported the following exchange: Childress – “Pretty, pretty please with sugar on it.” CQ – “Aw, shucks.” Childress – “I’ll be your best friend. I’ll buy you a pony.” CQ – “I just love playing the game.” The saga continues next month. Pass the Big Pink.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Let’s hope the Phillies are paying GM Ruben Amaro a truckload of cash, because every time ownership vetoes another move that would strengthen the team, Amaro has to stand in front of inquiring minds and spin away. No one outside of the Phillies’ brass can be sure if it was Amaro who concocted the “replenish our farm system” defense for the Cliff Lee deal, but that was a doozy. This week, a cranky Amaro has had to stonewall reporters who are tracking down verification the Phils are trying to deal for Roy Oswalt, Dan Haren or the ghost of Walter Johnson. The Oswalt deal looked done, until he asked for the equivalent of Kryptonite for the Phillies’ owners: cash. Now, with a farm system bereft of prospects and some starters for whom there is nearly zero interest around the league (Raul Ibanez = BP stock), Amaro has to fortify a starting rotation that is sagging, beef up a rotten bullpen and try to bolster a mostly-fetid bench. If he pulls any of it off without proper financial support from the Suits Upstairs, he should get a huge raise. If not, he should get some money, too, because the story he’ll have to invent to explain why the deals didn’t get made and to protect his bosses will make the Brothers Grimm look like hacks.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Some training camps opened today, and that means the start of real NFL football is less than two months away. Make sure you enjoy this season, sports fans, because there is going to be a lockout next year, and it’s going to be a long one. Owners want a smaller percentage of revenues devoted to salaries, a longer season, expanded drug testing and a rookie wage scale. Players want money, money and more money. Unlike the last labor negotiations, during which then-commissioner Paul Tagliabue was able to smoke the peace pipe with NFLPA head Gene Upshaw, even though some of the to-the-mattresses owners wanted a hard line, this won’t go smoothly. Roger Goodell is a wartime consigliere to capos like False Face, Dan Snyder and Bob Kraft, and he isn’t looking to compromise. As the pads pop and the concussions start, cherish every minute, because the future is filled with dark clouds.
-EH-
Earlier this week, El Hombre had the opportunity to speak to the coach of a prestigious D-I hoops program about various and sundry items, including the current tidal of wave of accusations sweeping the southern football community regarding improper contact (sounds like a Class C sexual assault charge) and payments by agents. Just to show you how much of a biosphere these guys inhabit, he had not heard about the ongoing NC2A investigations and the near-daily revelations of more programs in trouble, despite minute-by-minute updates on the Worldwide Leech’s bottom line that rivaled the drool-soaked dispatches about Dwyane Wade’s Little Brother’s free-agent future.
“LeBron to announce to announce future tonight on ‘Disgrace.’”
“LeBron eats breakfast burrito at Sonic.”
“LeBron pops Prilosec.”
“LeBron takes talents to South Beach”
“NBA greats ridicule LeBron.”
You get the idea. This thing hasn’t exactly been under the radar. Any time you can get Nick Saban to call a group of people “pimps,” it’s big news. So, Said Basketball Coach must be up to his AAU-addled noggin in street agents, crazy uncles and one-and-done-abees, or else he would know about it.
Anyway, earlier this summer, SBC happened to be watching a fine crop of student-athletes playing for the high-character types who operate summer-league teams at something called the “Peach Jam” in Augusta, GA. Next to him was an NC2A executive, whose areas of expertise were “gaming and agents,” which sounds sort of like a course of study at LSU. Anyway, the topic of agents came up, and the NC2A type said that there are actually people inside the Association who believe collegians should be able to have agents.
SBC was dumbfounded, and said something along the lines of “Then, they shouldn’t be employed,” in response, except with a couple of words that rhyme with “truck” and “ducking” sprinkled in. As you might imagine, the thought that players could some day have “representation” is enough to make SBC and his brethren re-think their million-dollar contracts. Okay, maybe they won’t go that far, but there will be a lot more people who look like Jim Boeheim prowling the football and basketball sidelines should that become a reality.
For those of you who don’t spend hours tracking the news and network propaganda that trundles across the bottom of the screen during espn’s programming, here’s a quick recap of what’s going on with all those proud southern football programs. It began late last week with the news that North Carolina had attracted the gumshoes, due to hints and allegations that star defensive tackle Marvin Austin and others may have received cash and prizes – cars, trips, swag – from agents and other unsavories. The NC2A look-see has been characterized as “major,” and if Austin and others are found to have been on the payroll, UNC could find itself in Azkaban. The same goes for South Carolina, Florida, Alabama and Georgia. That’s just for starters. There will be others, count on it.
(An aside: Good news for Michigan fans: Since your heroes have been so poor lately, there’s no chance agents are heading to Ann Arbor with big money and fast rides, so that’s one investigation U-M will dodge.)
As you might imagine, the CEOs of the programs in question aren’t happy. But instead of railing at the NC2A, they’re taking on the agents. Thus, Saban’s “pimps” comment. Things have gotten so bad that we were actually able to see footage of Saban and UF boss Urban VI Meyer standing – albeit uncomfortably – together at SEC Media Day without one trying to plunge a grappling hook into the other’s back.
College coaches are sure to be united about this problem, which is particularly challenging for them, since it’s impossible to keep track of every creepy crawler that slinks onto campus. Believe it or not, Pete Carroll wasn’t at the Omega Psi Phi and Alpha Phi Alpha throwdowns at USC. Nor was he at the Matt Leinart Hot Tub-a-thon. So, it was hard to know with whom his star players were associating, be it Lloyd Lane, Jerry McGuire, Arliss Michaels or any of their intermediaries.
What’s happening is that football players are starting to get agitated about the three-year hitch they’re required to serve before heading to the NFL. They see their basketball counterparts bolting after six months on campus for the pot-o-gold, and they’re jealous. Worse, the basketball savants only have to go to a semester-and-a-half of classes, quite different from two-plus, not to mention all the summer school work to make up for the bad grades in season. So, when someone offers them the keys to a car or a few (thousand) dollars to drop on some Rocawear or Abercrombie apparel, they figure they’re entitled. And since football teams have 22 starters, instead of five, and there are seven rounds in the NFL draft, versus two in the NBA version, there are more targets for aspiring representatives.
There are two things that can be done about this. One is easy for the NC2A. The other will require more finesse. The first involves changing the NC2A rule that allows players to speak with agents, so long as they don’t receive any benefits (meals, transportation, Bentleys). The NC2A has to prohibit players from talking to agents, period. Once contact is made, the door is open. It won’t be easy to track every player’s conversations and movements, but it would be easier for coaches and other administrators to get rid of any agents or their lieutenants who show up on campus. Why else would a runner be in Lawrence, KS, but to speak with a potential client? Once he’s there, he’s banished. And it’s up to the NC2A to put that person on a list that prohibits him from participating in any official event on campus, be it a Pro Day or any kind of showcase workout. It’s not perfect, but it would clear up some of the gray areas.
If the players are found talking to the agents, they are suspended immediately. People forget that these are adults who are warned regularly about which people to avoid.
The second involves the NFL and NBA, which have to start cracking down on agents who give improper benefits. Saban is right on this one. He says anybody found to have provided an improper benefit should lose his certification with the leagues for two years. That might sound harsh, and it would be difficult to do, since the leagues’ players associations govern agent activity, and they’re unlikely to go after the people who negotiate their contracts. But it would help.
Then there is the Big Acquiescence. Let the players have agents. Open it up to all comers. Stop the madness. And, while
we’re at it, let’s just make college sports entirely separate from the institutions they purport to represent. Some athletic programs have already taken steps in that direction with their runaway budgets, lip service to academics and other practices, but this would just about end the old model completely. Hey, if we’re headed in that direction already. Why not finish the job? Let the players have agents. Recruit cheerleaders from strip clubs. And if coaches don’t win? Public executions.
SBC and his brethren would love that. Just imagine their responses when Agent X marches into their office and says, “Coach, we have to talk about my client’s playing time.”
Get ready for more words that rhyme with cluck.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Folks in Miami are trying to come up with a suitable nickname for Dwyane Wade, LeBron James and Chris Bosh. Here’s a suggestion: “Syrup of Ipecac,” because the mere thought of how it all went down induces vomiting… If Eldrick Woods is going to play this poorly for the next several years, expect golf’s ratings to join those of cycling, bowling and Notre Dame football in the Nielsen outhouse. It isn’t unreasonable to think he’s on the downside of a great, possibly Galea-induced, career. That would be catastrophic for the PGA, which has no other bankable starts (Lefty doesn’t win enough) and can’t be happy when South African word jumbles win at St. Andrew’s…Former Raiders QB/Thanksgiving float JaMarcus Russell has pleaded not guilty to charges of illegal drug possession after being arrested under suspicion of having codeine syrup (aka “Purple Drank”) on his person. Russell might walk on those charges, but he still has to deal with the grand larceny accusation stemming from his theft of millions from the Oakland franchise…A federal judge ruled Wednesday that “competitive cheerleading” is not an official sport and can’t be used by colleges to satisfy gender-equity mandates. When asked about the ruling, Florida State cheer captain Muffy Capstone replied, “As if!”…A report out of Mississippi says that Vikings coach Brad Childress did not discuss a deadline with Cowboy Quarterback for when he needs to be in camp. One witness to the discussion between the two men reported the following exchange: Childress – “Pretty, pretty please with sugar on it.” CQ – “Aw, shucks.” Childress – “I’ll be your best friend. I’ll buy you a pony.” CQ – “I just love playing the game.” The saga continues next month. Pass the Big Pink.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Let’s hope the Phillies are paying GM Ruben Amaro a truckload of cash, because every time ownership vetoes another move that would strengthen the team, Amaro has to stand in front of inquiring minds and spin away. No one outside of the Phillies’ brass can be sure if it was Amaro who concocted the “replenish our farm system” defense for the Cliff Lee deal, but that was a doozy. This week, a cranky Amaro has had to stonewall reporters who are tracking down verification the Phils are trying to deal for Roy Oswalt, Dan Haren or the ghost of Walter Johnson. The Oswalt deal looked done, until he asked for the equivalent of Kryptonite for the Phillies’ owners: cash. Now, with a farm system bereft of prospects and some starters for whom there is nearly zero interest around the league (Raul Ibanez = BP stock), Amaro has to fortify a starting rotation that is sagging, beef up a rotten bullpen and try to bolster a mostly-fetid bench. If he pulls any of it off without proper financial support from the Suits Upstairs, he should get a huge raise. If not, he should get some money, too, because the story he’ll have to invent to explain why the deals didn’t get made and to protect his bosses will make the Brothers Grimm look like hacks.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Some training camps opened today, and that means the start of real NFL football is less than two months away. Make sure you enjoy this season, sports fans, because there is going to be a lockout next year, and it’s going to be a long one. Owners want a smaller percentage of revenues devoted to salaries, a longer season, expanded drug testing and a rookie wage scale. Players want money, money and more money. Unlike the last labor negotiations, during which then-commissioner Paul Tagliabue was able to smoke the peace pipe with NFLPA head Gene Upshaw, even though some of the to-the-mattresses owners wanted a hard line, this won’t go smoothly. Roger Goodell is a wartime consigliere to capos like False Face, Dan Snyder and Bob Kraft, and he isn’t looking to compromise. As the pads pop and the concussions start, cherish every minute, because the future is filled with dark clouds.
-EH-
Friday, March 5, 2010
Let's Get Ready To Rumble!
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
The clock is ticking on the first round of labor negotiations between NFL owners and league’s Players Association, and they have the potential to be as acrimonious as a chance meeting between Jim Bunning and common sense. It’s now certain the 2010 season will not feature a salary cap, the only thing ever invented that keeps Green Bay on an even footing with New York. There probably won’t be a collective bargaining agreement between the two sides in the near future. And the way things are shaping up, talks are likely to be as friendly and civil as a food fight in Miss Merrie’s pre-school lunch room.
Expecting a signed, sealed deal after such a short period of bartering is borderline crazy, since there are so many big issues to deal with, and each passing day brings more certainty that the league is looking to slap the players around as if they all played for the Detroit Lions. Despite annual revenues of about $7 billion, TV contracts that would make the International Olympic Committee envious and a seemingly endless demand for apparel and other branded items, the NFL is crying poor. It wants to knock down the amount of “gross revenues” devoted to player salaries – even though the definition of what’s in that pot is already quite fluid – and it’s trying to make contracts even less secure for athletes than before. If the owners thought they could get away with it, they would try to jam baseball’s old reserve clause into the deal, the better to rob players of their rights completely. Old False Face and Little Danny would love to have year-to-year deals for their hired hands, all the while selling piles of tickets and bloated party passes to fans who have been conditioned to worship the logo, not the player.
Anybody who followed the recent releases of top-shelf running backs throughout the league understands exactly what the owners are after. Within the span of a week, LaDainian Tomlinson, Brian Westbrook and Thomas Jones were all jettisoned by their teams, even though all had time and money left on their contracts. Part of it was the nature of life for NFL running backs, who like roasting chickens, have little plastic sticks in their backs that pop up when they are fully cooked. All three are north of 30 years old and therefore practically crippled and wheelchair-bound in the eyes of league execs. Why pay them big money for their diminishing skills when younger backs can produce nearly as well (if not better) for much less whip-out?
Such is the state of the professional football contract. And such is the cause for concern among all players. The NFL wants even more control over its labor costs, which is pretty amazing considering teams can cut players with no obligation once the guaranteed part of the contract is satisfied. No other major sport operates that way. If a baseball player signs a 5-year, $45 million contract, he gets it all, so long as he doesn’t retire or celebrate the New Year by firing a gun in a crowded nightclub. He could inject himself with HGH in the batter’s box, and it wouldn’t matter. He still gets paid. The same goes for NBA and NHL players, none of whom is protected by a particularly robust union. The NBA deal, which was forged after a historic cave-in by the drunken-sailor-spending players, allows for serial hounds like Me-Mac to get eight figures, even when they haven’t won a single playoff series during their careers. NFL players, on the other hand, have little or no leverage against the most successful league on the planet.
The good news for those who support the union’s cause is that new NFLPA president DeMaurice Smith appears to have the fortitude necessary to stand up to the greed mongers who own the teams. Smith has put the chances of a work stoppage in 2011 at “14” on a scale of 1 to 10, so maybe the players will dig in and get a fair deal. Of course, that assumes they have saved enough of their million-dollar salaries to see them through six months of labor unrest. If you’ll remember, it was a spendthrift attitude that forced NBA players to capitulate during their last work stoppage. Well, that and the Great Entourage Uprising of 1999, when dozens of hangers-on and childhood pals revolted when struggling, striking NBA players had to cut back on their cell-phone service and forced them to switch to Korbel from Cristal in the clubs. The NFL has controlled its world pretty well the past several decades, and with commissioner Paul Tagliabue, a conciliatory presence, gone and wartime consigliore Roger Goodell in the top chair, a hard line could prevail again. Whatever the case, don’t expect to see your favorite pros on the field when the 2011 starts. They’ll be too busy cracking heads at the bargaining table.
And that could be uglier than any late hit, clothesline tackle or crackback block. Players had better hope they’re able to walk away from the collision with everything intact.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Stop the presses! Cowboy Quarterback revealed that he hasn’t made up his mind yet about playing in the 2010 season! When will people stop talking to the drama queen and just wait until he shows up or doesn’t show up for training camp? It’s beyond old. This has now become part of the purview of Zahi Hawass…You have to love baseball. Nearly six months after he and his Milwaukee teammates celebrated a walk-off win over the Giants with a choreographed home-plate celebration, Brewers slugger Prince Fielder was drilled by San Francisco pitcher Barry Zito in the first inning of the teams’ Cactus League game Thursday. “My fastball was running in, and it just got away from me,” Zito said. Beautiful. The best part? Fielder took the plunking in stride. Less than a month until Opening Day…Hats off to Texas A&M-Commerce football coach Guy Morriss, who praised his players’ decision to steal all of the copies of the school’s weekly newspaper from racks around campus, after the paper ran – as is standard procedure – an article detailing one of their teammates’ arrest on drug charges. Morriss said, “I’m proud of my players for doing that. This is the best team building exercise we have ever done.” The Lions were a mediocre 5-5 last year, which for Morriss represents a huge step forward. He was a combined 27-54 during seven years at Kentucky and Baylor. Maybe his “team building exercises” should focus on blocking and tackling, rather than theft. Nice example to be setting, coach. You’re a real prize…The prigs who were upset by the Canadian women’s hockey team’s celebration after it won the gold medal need to be transported back to the Victorian Era, the better to match their hidebound values with a time period more suited to their stodgy personalities. So what if some young women’s revelry included beer and cigars – after fans had left the building? So what if an 18-year old woman drank some beer, in a province where the legal age of consumption is 19? Think that’s the first time it’s happened? Worse is that the head of the Canadian Hockey Federation (or whatever it’s called) actually apologized to the cranks for the fun. Every single day in Canada includes beer and cigars, so what’s the big deal? Here’s hoping the nasty whiners all get eaten by polar bears. (Just kidding. Sort of.)
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? El Hombre has always been of the opinion that Allen Iverson’s NBA tenure has been characterized by a sad waste of his talent, which likely would have produced a championship had it been used for good, rather than his own self-aggrandizement. That said, there is no joy in the news of the past week, which included reports of Iverson’s removal from the NBA world for the rest of the season – due to the continued illness of his daughter – the divorce papers filed by his wife, Tawanna, and reports that the mercurial guard has been battling gambling and alcohol demons for quite a while. Although it was tough to watch the remarkable talent prefer scoring over team play while in his prime, these dispatches are quite disturbing. One hopes they don’t presage a post-retirement catastrophe, in which a man who once had everything is laid low by an inability to handle the end of the line. Never one for off-season conditioning, Iverson always relied on his rare skills to carry him. Now that he is older, slower and fighting injuries, he doesn’t have the history or predisposition to overcome nature’s cruelties with hard work. As a result, his last days in the NBA will be remembered for controversy (in Denver and Detroit) and atrophy (Philadelphia, Part II), rather than triumph. If this is indeed it for Iverson, let’s hope he can forge a successful second chapter and that his daughter’s good health returns.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: It’s conference championship time once again, and that means the annual diatribe against the concept in general, which renders an entire regular season of play meaningless as leagues chase two hours of TV time during a four-day single-elimination format designed to punish their best teams. What could be worse than trampling one’s peers for two months, only to go cold for a game and lose the opportunity to play in the NC2A tourney, all so the league office can bask in espn’s annual dispatch from its corner of the world? It’s awful, and it isn’t fair. But that’s the contrived nature of college basketball these days. And, coming soon to a couch near you: The new, 96-team tournament, an idea that will make New Coke and the Germans’ decision to wage WWII on two fronts look like great decisions. Thank goodness for the Ivies, who choose their champion the proper way. Then again, what do those eggheads know, anyway?
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It makes El Hombre truly sad to report that loyal reader and bon vivant Jeff St. Amour is fighting a rival tougher than any curveball he ever faced. Jeff, a great fan of Villanova, devoted father and husband, sharp businessman and great friend, has some steep odds stacked against him. But if his resolve is anything like his engaging personality and that boyish twinkle in his eyes, he’s a good bet in this scrap. When you hit your knees, send one up to the Big Skipper for Jeff. He will certainly appreciate it. Here’s to you, Jeff. You have a lot of people pulling for you.
-EH-
The clock is ticking on the first round of labor negotiations between NFL owners and league’s Players Association, and they have the potential to be as acrimonious as a chance meeting between Jim Bunning and common sense. It’s now certain the 2010 season will not feature a salary cap, the only thing ever invented that keeps Green Bay on an even footing with New York. There probably won’t be a collective bargaining agreement between the two sides in the near future. And the way things are shaping up, talks are likely to be as friendly and civil as a food fight in Miss Merrie’s pre-school lunch room.
Expecting a signed, sealed deal after such a short period of bartering is borderline crazy, since there are so many big issues to deal with, and each passing day brings more certainty that the league is looking to slap the players around as if they all played for the Detroit Lions. Despite annual revenues of about $7 billion, TV contracts that would make the International Olympic Committee envious and a seemingly endless demand for apparel and other branded items, the NFL is crying poor. It wants to knock down the amount of “gross revenues” devoted to player salaries – even though the definition of what’s in that pot is already quite fluid – and it’s trying to make contracts even less secure for athletes than before. If the owners thought they could get away with it, they would try to jam baseball’s old reserve clause into the deal, the better to rob players of their rights completely. Old False Face and Little Danny would love to have year-to-year deals for their hired hands, all the while selling piles of tickets and bloated party passes to fans who have been conditioned to worship the logo, not the player.
Anybody who followed the recent releases of top-shelf running backs throughout the league understands exactly what the owners are after. Within the span of a week, LaDainian Tomlinson, Brian Westbrook and Thomas Jones were all jettisoned by their teams, even though all had time and money left on their contracts. Part of it was the nature of life for NFL running backs, who like roasting chickens, have little plastic sticks in their backs that pop up when they are fully cooked. All three are north of 30 years old and therefore practically crippled and wheelchair-bound in the eyes of league execs. Why pay them big money for their diminishing skills when younger backs can produce nearly as well (if not better) for much less whip-out?
Such is the state of the professional football contract. And such is the cause for concern among all players. The NFL wants even more control over its labor costs, which is pretty amazing considering teams can cut players with no obligation once the guaranteed part of the contract is satisfied. No other major sport operates that way. If a baseball player signs a 5-year, $45 million contract, he gets it all, so long as he doesn’t retire or celebrate the New Year by firing a gun in a crowded nightclub. He could inject himself with HGH in the batter’s box, and it wouldn’t matter. He still gets paid. The same goes for NBA and NHL players, none of whom is protected by a particularly robust union. The NBA deal, which was forged after a historic cave-in by the drunken-sailor-spending players, allows for serial hounds like Me-Mac to get eight figures, even when they haven’t won a single playoff series during their careers. NFL players, on the other hand, have little or no leverage against the most successful league on the planet.
The good news for those who support the union’s cause is that new NFLPA president DeMaurice Smith appears to have the fortitude necessary to stand up to the greed mongers who own the teams. Smith has put the chances of a work stoppage in 2011 at “14” on a scale of 1 to 10, so maybe the players will dig in and get a fair deal. Of course, that assumes they have saved enough of their million-dollar salaries to see them through six months of labor unrest. If you’ll remember, it was a spendthrift attitude that forced NBA players to capitulate during their last work stoppage. Well, that and the Great Entourage Uprising of 1999, when dozens of hangers-on and childhood pals revolted when struggling, striking NBA players had to cut back on their cell-phone service and forced them to switch to Korbel from Cristal in the clubs. The NFL has controlled its world pretty well the past several decades, and with commissioner Paul Tagliabue, a conciliatory presence, gone and wartime consigliore Roger Goodell in the top chair, a hard line could prevail again. Whatever the case, don’t expect to see your favorite pros on the field when the 2011 starts. They’ll be too busy cracking heads at the bargaining table.
And that could be uglier than any late hit, clothesline tackle or crackback block. Players had better hope they’re able to walk away from the collision with everything intact.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Stop the presses! Cowboy Quarterback revealed that he hasn’t made up his mind yet about playing in the 2010 season! When will people stop talking to the drama queen and just wait until he shows up or doesn’t show up for training camp? It’s beyond old. This has now become part of the purview of Zahi Hawass…You have to love baseball. Nearly six months after he and his Milwaukee teammates celebrated a walk-off win over the Giants with a choreographed home-plate celebration, Brewers slugger Prince Fielder was drilled by San Francisco pitcher Barry Zito in the first inning of the teams’ Cactus League game Thursday. “My fastball was running in, and it just got away from me,” Zito said. Beautiful. The best part? Fielder took the plunking in stride. Less than a month until Opening Day…Hats off to Texas A&M-Commerce football coach Guy Morriss, who praised his players’ decision to steal all of the copies of the school’s weekly newspaper from racks around campus, after the paper ran – as is standard procedure – an article detailing one of their teammates’ arrest on drug charges. Morriss said, “I’m proud of my players for doing that. This is the best team building exercise we have ever done.” The Lions were a mediocre 5-5 last year, which for Morriss represents a huge step forward. He was a combined 27-54 during seven years at Kentucky and Baylor. Maybe his “team building exercises” should focus on blocking and tackling, rather than theft. Nice example to be setting, coach. You’re a real prize…The prigs who were upset by the Canadian women’s hockey team’s celebration after it won the gold medal need to be transported back to the Victorian Era, the better to match their hidebound values with a time period more suited to their stodgy personalities. So what if some young women’s revelry included beer and cigars – after fans had left the building? So what if an 18-year old woman drank some beer, in a province where the legal age of consumption is 19? Think that’s the first time it’s happened? Worse is that the head of the Canadian Hockey Federation (or whatever it’s called) actually apologized to the cranks for the fun. Every single day in Canada includes beer and cigars, so what’s the big deal? Here’s hoping the nasty whiners all get eaten by polar bears. (Just kidding. Sort of.)
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? El Hombre has always been of the opinion that Allen Iverson’s NBA tenure has been characterized by a sad waste of his talent, which likely would have produced a championship had it been used for good, rather than his own self-aggrandizement. That said, there is no joy in the news of the past week, which included reports of Iverson’s removal from the NBA world for the rest of the season – due to the continued illness of his daughter – the divorce papers filed by his wife, Tawanna, and reports that the mercurial guard has been battling gambling and alcohol demons for quite a while. Although it was tough to watch the remarkable talent prefer scoring over team play while in his prime, these dispatches are quite disturbing. One hopes they don’t presage a post-retirement catastrophe, in which a man who once had everything is laid low by an inability to handle the end of the line. Never one for off-season conditioning, Iverson always relied on his rare skills to carry him. Now that he is older, slower and fighting injuries, he doesn’t have the history or predisposition to overcome nature’s cruelties with hard work. As a result, his last days in the NBA will be remembered for controversy (in Denver and Detroit) and atrophy (Philadelphia, Part II), rather than triumph. If this is indeed it for Iverson, let’s hope he can forge a successful second chapter and that his daughter’s good health returns.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: It’s conference championship time once again, and that means the annual diatribe against the concept in general, which renders an entire regular season of play meaningless as leagues chase two hours of TV time during a four-day single-elimination format designed to punish their best teams. What could be worse than trampling one’s peers for two months, only to go cold for a game and lose the opportunity to play in the NC2A tourney, all so the league office can bask in espn’s annual dispatch from its corner of the world? It’s awful, and it isn’t fair. But that’s the contrived nature of college basketball these days. And, coming soon to a couch near you: The new, 96-team tournament, an idea that will make New Coke and the Germans’ decision to wage WWII on two fronts look like great decisions. Thank goodness for the Ivies, who choose their champion the proper way. Then again, what do those eggheads know, anyway?
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It makes El Hombre truly sad to report that loyal reader and bon vivant Jeff St. Amour is fighting a rival tougher than any curveball he ever faced. Jeff, a great fan of Villanova, devoted father and husband, sharp businessman and great friend, has some steep odds stacked against him. But if his resolve is anything like his engaging personality and that boyish twinkle in his eyes, he’s a good bet in this scrap. When you hit your knees, send one up to the Big Skipper for Jeff. He will certainly appreciate it. Here’s to you, Jeff. You have a lot of people pulling for you.
-EH-
Friday, January 29, 2010
All-Star Disaster
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Back when Allen Iverson was holding the Philadelphia 76ers hostage with his unique brand of bionic wrist shooting, a clever saying circulated among the wily wags who covered the team. It went like this:
“They say there’s no ‘I’ in team, and there’s no “team” in Iverson.”
Great stuff, no? Anyway, the point was pretty clear. So long as A.I. was getting his, it didn’t matter what else was going on. The Sixers would win some with him, and in 2001, Iverson (with a bit of help from Larry Brown) lifted the team to the NBA Finals. But that was the limit for Iverson, whose selfish game never allowed the franchise to surround him with other top-flight players, because they knew they wouldn’t see the ball.
If only Iverson had used his powers for good, he could have been one of the greatest point guards ever to pull on an NBA uniform. Just imagine how others would have lined up to play with a ridiculously quick guard who could penetrate at will, was unstoppable in the open court and looked to pass first. It didn’t happen, and last year, age finally caught up with Iverson. No longer able to carry a team on his narrow shoulders, he was asked to take on secondary roles with first Denver and then Detroit. His response in both cases was an upraised middle finger, and after the season he was cast off into the discount bucket, where only Memphis – make that the Grizzlies’ nitwit owner – was interested in claiming him.
You know what happened from there. Iverson was injured during training camp, and when he got healthy, he blanched at coming off the bench. Memphis dumped him, the Sixers picked him up, and his creaky body turned him into the type of complementary player that used to surround him during his prime. In these cases, players generally drift off into obscurity, either as afterthoughts on rotten teams (like the Sixers) or as reserves on winners. They don’t, however, become All-Stars.
Usually.
It’s impossible to blame Iverson for his ascension to the starting lineup of the Eastern Conference All-Stars. He didn’t concoct a computer program to stuff the e-ballot box – as far as we know. Nor did he go door-to-door soliciting votes. He merely forced his way out of Memphis – where “God” told him to go, if you believe AI’s mid-summer revelation – resurfaced in Philadelphia, shed a few tears, kissed some hardwood and then proved that he isn’t the player he once was.
Since joining the Sixers, Iverson has scored a modest 14.9 ppg and dished out 4.4 apg. He’s playing just under 33 minutes a game (a far cry from the 40-plus he used to average) and has missed some time due to arthritis, not exactly a condition that afflicts younger men. Iverson will be 35 this June, and his days of embarrassing rivals with his signature crossover and jet streaming the opposition in the open court are certainly over. The Sixers knew that when they signed him, as did the rest of the NBA, which passed on his services during the off-season. To his credit, Iverson is coping with his creeping mortality, making concessions to his diminishing physical skills by trying to be more of a (gasp!) team player.
Kudos to him for that, but his willingness to junk the me-first approach that made him equal parts thrilling and maddening is not reason for inclusion among the game’s best. It’s especially not worthy of a spot on the starting five. Iverson achieved that status solely due to fan ignorance that spawned a tidal wave of support. Boston’s Ray Allen received flak from all corners when he called for an end – or at least an amendment – to the process of selecting All-Star participants by fan vote. Those who back the system argued that since the game is an exhibition, staged solely for the fans (and to make a fat profit) the NBA’s loyal customers should choose the participants. That makes sense until you realize that making the All-Star team is more than just an opportunity to spend 48 defense-free minutes. Many players have clauses in their contract that give them bonuses for reaching that milestone. Others are judged Hall of Fame-worthy by the number of times they are selected.
As bad as Iverson’s election was, the fact that Tracy McGrady, who has played all of six games this year and averaged 3.2 ppg, almost received enough votes to join the West’s starting lineup was an even greater travesty. Thank goodness a late surge pushed Steve Nash past McGrady. Why couldn’t Me-Mac have done like Yao Ming and removed himself from the ballot? Ming, who won’t play this season, understood that millions of Chinese fans would have pulled his lever, so he bowed out, gracefully. McGrady lacked that kind of class.
The solution should incorporate fan voting, but it should also let players, coaches and/or media have a voice, the better to eliminate future fiascos like the Iverson selection and the McGrady near-miss. That way, perhaps the game will feature the best of the best, not the products of election fraud.
There’s no ‘I’ in team, and there shouldn’t be an Iverson in the All-Star Game.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Golfers descended on Torrey Pines this week for a continuation of the “Who Gives A Crap Tour,” and no matter how much officials protest, Phil Mickelson and Scott Piercy can’t generate the same interest as Mr. Hot Sex. There’s no truth to the rumor PGA bigwigs are offering a $1 million bonus to the first rehab therapist who gives Tiger Woods a clean bill of health…Joel Branstrom, the Kansas high school hoops coach who was pranked by students who promised him Final Four tickets if he made a halfcourt shot (he made it, but they had no tickets for him) will be a guest of the NC2A at this year’s Final Four. After hearing about the organization’s generosity, Texas coach Rick Barnes asked for the same treatment – and wanted to know if he could bring his team with him…Wait a second. Cowboy Quarterback threw a stupid pass? Nooooo way! As much fun as it was to watch Brett Favre blow it in the last seconds of regulation last week against New Orleans (check out the radio call; it’s classic: http://www.nowpublic.com/sports/brett-favre-interception-radio-call-minnesota-radio-rips-favre-2563236.html ), you have to be impressed with his toughness. The Saints treated him like a piñata, and he kept coming back, albeit a little too dramatically. Now, we get to wait months to find out whether he’s returning. That ought to be a lot of fun.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It’s amusing to hear people try to figure out how much responsibility Sixers’ coach Eddie Jordan should take for the team’s awful, 15-30 record. The answer? None. When GM Ed Stefanski hired Jordan, he talked about how great it was going to be watching the Sixers run Jordan’s “Princeton Offense.” Stefanski conveniently forgot that the team had no point guard and that its highest-paid player, power forward Elton Brand, is a pick-and-pop type with few of the intuitive basketball skills needed for the scheme. Worse, by giving Andre Iguodala a huge contract and Jason Kapono nearly $13 mil for two years(!), Stefanski created one of the nastiest salary cap situations around. The Sixers may have to trade Iguodala and others for an ugly expiring contract just to get under the cap next year and avoid paying the luxury tax. And somebody wants to blame Jordan for that. Sure, the coach could have won a few more games if he had decided on a rotation earlier, but the team he has been handed is not prepared to run his offense, lacks a go-to scorer, doesn’t play very good defense and shoots poorly from outside. Brand is a shell of his former self, and the Sixers didn’t realize that a big reason he looked so good a few years back with the Clippers is that Sam Cassell was hurt, and Brand took a lot more shots than he usually did – yielding more impressive numbers. Jordan isn’t the best coach, but he has been given a nightmare of a roster. The best thing for the Sixers would be for a regime change. Sell the team, Mr. Snider, and let someone who cares about basketball take over.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The NFL has been largely bulletproof when it comes to marketing itself over the past couple decades, but the league has made a huge mistake with the Pro Bowl, no matter how much commissioner Roger Goodell tries to convince us otherwise. About 48 of the 76 players initially announced to play in the game will be suited up and ready to go Sunday night in Miami, where upper deck tickets are reportedly selling for $20 bucks below asking price. Okay, so the Pro Bowl is a joke anyway, and no one should really care – other than the players, who loved going to Hawaii – whether the market for tickets is suffering. The real travesty is that the league is forcing Pro Bowlers from the Colts and Saints to make a special trip to Miami ahead of their teams and stand on the sidelines for the first half of the game, instead of preparing for the Super Bowl, which is only the main goal of every player in the league, except for Me-O. It’s asinine to torpedo your championship game so that an exhibition can have a little more tube appeal for espn. The NFL can try to spin this any way it wants, but it loses big. Let’s hope Goodell has the brains and guts to reverse field next season.
-EH-
Back when Allen Iverson was holding the Philadelphia 76ers hostage with his unique brand of bionic wrist shooting, a clever saying circulated among the wily wags who covered the team. It went like this:
“They say there’s no ‘I’ in team, and there’s no “team” in Iverson.”
Great stuff, no? Anyway, the point was pretty clear. So long as A.I. was getting his, it didn’t matter what else was going on. The Sixers would win some with him, and in 2001, Iverson (with a bit of help from Larry Brown) lifted the team to the NBA Finals. But that was the limit for Iverson, whose selfish game never allowed the franchise to surround him with other top-flight players, because they knew they wouldn’t see the ball.
If only Iverson had used his powers for good, he could have been one of the greatest point guards ever to pull on an NBA uniform. Just imagine how others would have lined up to play with a ridiculously quick guard who could penetrate at will, was unstoppable in the open court and looked to pass first. It didn’t happen, and last year, age finally caught up with Iverson. No longer able to carry a team on his narrow shoulders, he was asked to take on secondary roles with first Denver and then Detroit. His response in both cases was an upraised middle finger, and after the season he was cast off into the discount bucket, where only Memphis – make that the Grizzlies’ nitwit owner – was interested in claiming him.
You know what happened from there. Iverson was injured during training camp, and when he got healthy, he blanched at coming off the bench. Memphis dumped him, the Sixers picked him up, and his creaky body turned him into the type of complementary player that used to surround him during his prime. In these cases, players generally drift off into obscurity, either as afterthoughts on rotten teams (like the Sixers) or as reserves on winners. They don’t, however, become All-Stars.
Usually.
It’s impossible to blame Iverson for his ascension to the starting lineup of the Eastern Conference All-Stars. He didn’t concoct a computer program to stuff the e-ballot box – as far as we know. Nor did he go door-to-door soliciting votes. He merely forced his way out of Memphis – where “God” told him to go, if you believe AI’s mid-summer revelation – resurfaced in Philadelphia, shed a few tears, kissed some hardwood and then proved that he isn’t the player he once was.
Since joining the Sixers, Iverson has scored a modest 14.9 ppg and dished out 4.4 apg. He’s playing just under 33 minutes a game (a far cry from the 40-plus he used to average) and has missed some time due to arthritis, not exactly a condition that afflicts younger men. Iverson will be 35 this June, and his days of embarrassing rivals with his signature crossover and jet streaming the opposition in the open court are certainly over. The Sixers knew that when they signed him, as did the rest of the NBA, which passed on his services during the off-season. To his credit, Iverson is coping with his creeping mortality, making concessions to his diminishing physical skills by trying to be more of a (gasp!) team player.
Kudos to him for that, but his willingness to junk the me-first approach that made him equal parts thrilling and maddening is not reason for inclusion among the game’s best. It’s especially not worthy of a spot on the starting five. Iverson achieved that status solely due to fan ignorance that spawned a tidal wave of support. Boston’s Ray Allen received flak from all corners when he called for an end – or at least an amendment – to the process of selecting All-Star participants by fan vote. Those who back the system argued that since the game is an exhibition, staged solely for the fans (and to make a fat profit) the NBA’s loyal customers should choose the participants. That makes sense until you realize that making the All-Star team is more than just an opportunity to spend 48 defense-free minutes. Many players have clauses in their contract that give them bonuses for reaching that milestone. Others are judged Hall of Fame-worthy by the number of times they are selected.
As bad as Iverson’s election was, the fact that Tracy McGrady, who has played all of six games this year and averaged 3.2 ppg, almost received enough votes to join the West’s starting lineup was an even greater travesty. Thank goodness a late surge pushed Steve Nash past McGrady. Why couldn’t Me-Mac have done like Yao Ming and removed himself from the ballot? Ming, who won’t play this season, understood that millions of Chinese fans would have pulled his lever, so he bowed out, gracefully. McGrady lacked that kind of class.
The solution should incorporate fan voting, but it should also let players, coaches and/or media have a voice, the better to eliminate future fiascos like the Iverson selection and the McGrady near-miss. That way, perhaps the game will feature the best of the best, not the products of election fraud.
There’s no ‘I’ in team, and there shouldn’t be an Iverson in the All-Star Game.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Golfers descended on Torrey Pines this week for a continuation of the “Who Gives A Crap Tour,” and no matter how much officials protest, Phil Mickelson and Scott Piercy can’t generate the same interest as Mr. Hot Sex. There’s no truth to the rumor PGA bigwigs are offering a $1 million bonus to the first rehab therapist who gives Tiger Woods a clean bill of health…Joel Branstrom, the Kansas high school hoops coach who was pranked by students who promised him Final Four tickets if he made a halfcourt shot (he made it, but they had no tickets for him) will be a guest of the NC2A at this year’s Final Four. After hearing about the organization’s generosity, Texas coach Rick Barnes asked for the same treatment – and wanted to know if he could bring his team with him…Wait a second. Cowboy Quarterback threw a stupid pass? Nooooo way! As much fun as it was to watch Brett Favre blow it in the last seconds of regulation last week against New Orleans (check out the radio call; it’s classic: http://www.nowpublic.com/sports/brett-favre-interception-radio-call-minnesota-radio-rips-favre-2563236.html ), you have to be impressed with his toughness. The Saints treated him like a piñata, and he kept coming back, albeit a little too dramatically. Now, we get to wait months to find out whether he’s returning. That ought to be a lot of fun.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? It’s amusing to hear people try to figure out how much responsibility Sixers’ coach Eddie Jordan should take for the team’s awful, 15-30 record. The answer? None. When GM Ed Stefanski hired Jordan, he talked about how great it was going to be watching the Sixers run Jordan’s “Princeton Offense.” Stefanski conveniently forgot that the team had no point guard and that its highest-paid player, power forward Elton Brand, is a pick-and-pop type with few of the intuitive basketball skills needed for the scheme. Worse, by giving Andre Iguodala a huge contract and Jason Kapono nearly $13 mil for two years(!), Stefanski created one of the nastiest salary cap situations around. The Sixers may have to trade Iguodala and others for an ugly expiring contract just to get under the cap next year and avoid paying the luxury tax. And somebody wants to blame Jordan for that. Sure, the coach could have won a few more games if he had decided on a rotation earlier, but the team he has been handed is not prepared to run his offense, lacks a go-to scorer, doesn’t play very good defense and shoots poorly from outside. Brand is a shell of his former self, and the Sixers didn’t realize that a big reason he looked so good a few years back with the Clippers is that Sam Cassell was hurt, and Brand took a lot more shots than he usually did – yielding more impressive numbers. Jordan isn’t the best coach, but he has been given a nightmare of a roster. The best thing for the Sixers would be for a regime change. Sell the team, Mr. Snider, and let someone who cares about basketball take over.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The NFL has been largely bulletproof when it comes to marketing itself over the past couple decades, but the league has made a huge mistake with the Pro Bowl, no matter how much commissioner Roger Goodell tries to convince us otherwise. About 48 of the 76 players initially announced to play in the game will be suited up and ready to go Sunday night in Miami, where upper deck tickets are reportedly selling for $20 bucks below asking price. Okay, so the Pro Bowl is a joke anyway, and no one should really care – other than the players, who loved going to Hawaii – whether the market for tickets is suffering. The real travesty is that the league is forcing Pro Bowlers from the Colts and Saints to make a special trip to Miami ahead of their teams and stand on the sidelines for the first half of the game, instead of preparing for the Super Bowl, which is only the main goal of every player in the league, except for Me-O. It’s asinine to torpedo your championship game so that an exhibition can have a little more tube appeal for espn. The NFL can try to spin this any way it wants, but it loses big. Let’s hope Goodell has the brains and guts to reverse field next season.
-EH-
Friday, January 8, 2010
Keep the Carnage Coming
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
You have to love the NFL. The same league that has spent the past several years doing its best to tell us there is no link between repeated shots to the head by angry 300-pounders and future brain damage is now hoping to entice coaches to keep players in harm’s way during late-season contests, even if their teams have absolutely nothing to gain from the games. Seems the league is worried about the product on the field and giving fans the best value for their ticket dollar. Well, tell all that to Wes Welker and the Patriots.
For those of you who don’t arrange their lives around the NFL – and if you don’t, the league’s assassins will find you – Welker tore two knee ligaments (Good news! He still has one intact) Sunday in the Pats’ finale, which meant as much to New England as gun control legislation does to Gilbert Arenas. (More on that chowderhead later.) Now New England will enter the post-season without its top receiver (Don’t even try to give El Hombre Randy Moss), and Welker has the very real possibility of spending the remainder of his career as a shadow of his former self. But, hey, at least the fans got to see the first-stringers! Right. See how that plays during the post-season as the Pats try to win a Super Bowl without a stalwart.
This whole thing began because Colts’ coach Jim Caldwell decided it was a good idea to keep Peyton Manning away from the Jets’ pass rush, which resembles an angry beehive. By doing that, he surrendered the chance to “make history” by going 19-0. What he was really doing was preserving the most important single asset in the league and assuring the Colts that they won’t have to see backup QB Matt Painter do anything during the post-season except warm up. And even that is frightening for Indy fans.
Anybody who watched Texas fall apart in the wake of QB Colt McCoy’s injury Thursday night knows what can happen to a contender when it loses its top player. The Longhorns eventually rallied and showed some heart, but they didn’t have enough to beat Alabama. Without Manning, the Colts don’t win a playoff game. No way.
Caldwell’s decision was roundly criticized by the “historians” who analyze the NFL’s every heartbeat. By resting Manning, even though the Colts had a five-point third-quarter lead when the quarterback sat down, Caldwell was forfeiting a chance at immortality. Had Manning’s knee been turned to oatmeal by a blitzing linebacker, Caldwell would have been torn apart for exposing the QB to marauding defenders, in the name of self-aggrandizement. In other words, it was an untenable position, and Caldwell made the choice he thought would give his team the best chance to win a Super Bowl title. (Again, have you seen Matt Painter play?)
In the coming weeks and months, we’ll hear all sorts of things designed to guard the league’s image and give the fans their “money’s worth.” Commissioner Roger Goodell might offer up extra draft picks to teams who have already clinched playoff berths or secured seeding positions that nonetheless continue to expose their stars to maiming. At the same time, Goodell will be trying to goad the union into adding another one or two games to an already-bloated regular season schedule, injuries and future damage be damned. If there is a revenue stream available, you can bet the NFL will mine it until every last crumb of gold is found.
Of course, no one will say anything about protecting the players, who endure multiple 10-car pileups every week. Sounds about right for the league that still tries to convince us that repeated shots to the melon have no long-term effect. Maybe those making the decisions in New York have absorbed a few of those themselves. They still know how to count the money, though. That always seems to be a possibility in the NFL.
Now for the moment you have waited for: This week’s picks.
Cincinnati (minus-2 ½) over New York. Chad Ochocrazy was shut down last week in the Meadowlands. It’s not happening again. New York coach Rex Ryan thinks his team is the Super Bowl favorite. He should remember that his pop, Buddy, never won a playoff game. It might run in the family. Bengals 24, Jets 14.
Dallas (minus-4) over Philadelphia. Say what you want about how hard it is to beat a team three times in the season. That only holds when the opponent has something going for it. The Eagles O-line is a mess, and its linebacking corps needs federal disaster relief. Cowboys 23, Eagles 16.
Baltimore (plus-3 ½) over New England. The Raven ground attack looks great, and the Baltimore defense is nasty once again. The Patriots will certainly miss Welker, and even if they win, it won’t be by much. Patriots 21, Ravens 20.
Green Bay (plus 2 ½) over Arizona. Last year, the Cardinals came alive in the post-season and shocked everybody. That was then. Packers QB Aaron Rodgers is ready for his coming-out party, and Green Bay has a nasty D. Packers 27, Cardinals 14.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Tiger Woods appears shirtless and buffed on the cover of the recent Vanity Fair, a photo taken before his Skanko-Roman wrestling ways were revealed. Wonder if he plans to use the picture to attract chicks?...If Mike Leach did half of what he is accused of at Texas Tech, his firing was warranted, no matter how annoying the kid was. You can’t treat players like that, especially those whose daddies are espn broadcasters. Next time, lock the son of Mr. & Mrs. Nobody from Busted Boil, TX, in an equipment shed. Then again, given Leach’s love of pirates, it’s a wonder he didn’t make the young man walk the plank…Los Angeles Clippers broadcaster Michael Smith is accused of bilking a golfing buddy out of a cool $735,000 by convincing him to use his home as collateral for a loan on a development deal that went bad. The news isn’t all awful for the team, since given its oft-shaky defense, it’s good that somebody associated with the Clippers might be trying to steal something…There are reports that a “friendly” match between the U.S. and Mexican national soccer teams in Pasadena has been scrubbed over a dispute between Telemundo and Univision, each of which want to televise the game. But that’s only part of it. The real problem came when Rose Bowl officials mandated that Mexican fans could only bring in three bags of urine apiece to throw at the American players. Mexican fans wanted to bring nine…If Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas is suspended for a long period of time, he might just want to consider competing for a spot on the U.S. Olympic biathlon team. He could pair with teammate Javaris Crittenton, who might have some free time on his hands soon, too.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Admit it, you’re one of those Philadelphia fans who is secretly hoping the Eagles lose to Dallas Saturday, so the Donovan McNabb “era” can end. Or if you’re not, you know someone who is. You might get your wish, because the Birds don’t look like they have much hope at False Face’s pleasure dome, thanks to a defense that’s giving up points faster than espn can come out with new gimmicks (a 3-D channel?) and an offensive line that has the same cohesion as Charlie Sheen’s marriage. Those two were huge culprits in last week’s loss to the Cowboys, but few chose to look at it that way. It was all McNabb’s fault. And if the Birds lose this weekend – or next, or the one after that – there will a huge cry for Number Five’s dismissal. Maybe the vultures get their wish granted, and if they do, they had better be careful, because Kevin Kolb isn’t necessarily the answer, and teams without good QBs (see Bears, Chicago, among others) don’t win the Super Bowl and get a “prade” for “long-suffering” fans.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: NBA commissioner Uncle David Stern did the right thing by taking Arenas out of action, and he should not be swayed by the meathead’s recent remorseful statements regarding his gun shenanigans when deciding his ultimate punishment. Arenas still doesn’t think he did anything wrong, and that’s despicable. Stern should hammer Arenas hard by removing him from action for the rest of the year – without pay. And since attempting to void the rest of his contract would cause an uproar from the union, the next labor negotiations should establish clear penalties for those who bring firearms into a locker room or any other team-related area: minimum one-year suspensions and the end of their contracts. Stern needs to make examples of both Arenas and Wild West partner Javaris Crittenton, so the league reputation doesn’t revert to its 1970s version, when everybody thought the league was filled with renegades.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is with a heavy heart that El Hombre reports the passing of a true American hero and a loyal EH reader, Bill “Bitsy” Grant, who succumbed to cancer Tuesday at the age of 85. Bill was a walking 20th century history book, having survived the Great Depression, World War II (Normandy landing, Battle of the Bulge, historic meeting with Soviet troops in Germany) and perhaps most demanding, raising eight children. A loyal Hawk who graduated from Saint Joseph’s thanks to his hard work, smarts and the G.I. Bill, Bill later became a successful advertising executive. Bill was a devout Catholic and searched until his last days for the answers to life’s tough questions, never once expressing his frustration at how elusive that pursuit was. He loved the Phillies, golf, mystery novels, anything to do with St. Joe’s and his family. It took no cajoling whatsoever to elicit a rousing rendition of “The Night Paddy Murphy Died” from him at family gatherings, and woe to anybody who was caught behind him at the dessert table. Bill was a gentleman, an exemplary father and grandfather and a great friend. He will be missed greatly.
-EH-
You have to love the NFL. The same league that has spent the past several years doing its best to tell us there is no link between repeated shots to the head by angry 300-pounders and future brain damage is now hoping to entice coaches to keep players in harm’s way during late-season contests, even if their teams have absolutely nothing to gain from the games. Seems the league is worried about the product on the field and giving fans the best value for their ticket dollar. Well, tell all that to Wes Welker and the Patriots.
For those of you who don’t arrange their lives around the NFL – and if you don’t, the league’s assassins will find you – Welker tore two knee ligaments (Good news! He still has one intact) Sunday in the Pats’ finale, which meant as much to New England as gun control legislation does to Gilbert Arenas. (More on that chowderhead later.) Now New England will enter the post-season without its top receiver (Don’t even try to give El Hombre Randy Moss), and Welker has the very real possibility of spending the remainder of his career as a shadow of his former self. But, hey, at least the fans got to see the first-stringers! Right. See how that plays during the post-season as the Pats try to win a Super Bowl without a stalwart.
This whole thing began because Colts’ coach Jim Caldwell decided it was a good idea to keep Peyton Manning away from the Jets’ pass rush, which resembles an angry beehive. By doing that, he surrendered the chance to “make history” by going 19-0. What he was really doing was preserving the most important single asset in the league and assuring the Colts that they won’t have to see backup QB Matt Painter do anything during the post-season except warm up. And even that is frightening for Indy fans.
Anybody who watched Texas fall apart in the wake of QB Colt McCoy’s injury Thursday night knows what can happen to a contender when it loses its top player. The Longhorns eventually rallied and showed some heart, but they didn’t have enough to beat Alabama. Without Manning, the Colts don’t win a playoff game. No way.
Caldwell’s decision was roundly criticized by the “historians” who analyze the NFL’s every heartbeat. By resting Manning, even though the Colts had a five-point third-quarter lead when the quarterback sat down, Caldwell was forfeiting a chance at immortality. Had Manning’s knee been turned to oatmeal by a blitzing linebacker, Caldwell would have been torn apart for exposing the QB to marauding defenders, in the name of self-aggrandizement. In other words, it was an untenable position, and Caldwell made the choice he thought would give his team the best chance to win a Super Bowl title. (Again, have you seen Matt Painter play?)
In the coming weeks and months, we’ll hear all sorts of things designed to guard the league’s image and give the fans their “money’s worth.” Commissioner Roger Goodell might offer up extra draft picks to teams who have already clinched playoff berths or secured seeding positions that nonetheless continue to expose their stars to maiming. At the same time, Goodell will be trying to goad the union into adding another one or two games to an already-bloated regular season schedule, injuries and future damage be damned. If there is a revenue stream available, you can bet the NFL will mine it until every last crumb of gold is found.
Of course, no one will say anything about protecting the players, who endure multiple 10-car pileups every week. Sounds about right for the league that still tries to convince us that repeated shots to the melon have no long-term effect. Maybe those making the decisions in New York have absorbed a few of those themselves. They still know how to count the money, though. That always seems to be a possibility in the NFL.
Now for the moment you have waited for: This week’s picks.
Cincinnati (minus-2 ½) over New York. Chad Ochocrazy was shut down last week in the Meadowlands. It’s not happening again. New York coach Rex Ryan thinks his team is the Super Bowl favorite. He should remember that his pop, Buddy, never won a playoff game. It might run in the family. Bengals 24, Jets 14.
Dallas (minus-4) over Philadelphia. Say what you want about how hard it is to beat a team three times in the season. That only holds when the opponent has something going for it. The Eagles O-line is a mess, and its linebacking corps needs federal disaster relief. Cowboys 23, Eagles 16.
Baltimore (plus-3 ½) over New England. The Raven ground attack looks great, and the Baltimore defense is nasty once again. The Patriots will certainly miss Welker, and even if they win, it won’t be by much. Patriots 21, Ravens 20.
Green Bay (plus 2 ½) over Arizona. Last year, the Cardinals came alive in the post-season and shocked everybody. That was then. Packers QB Aaron Rodgers is ready for his coming-out party, and Green Bay has a nasty D. Packers 27, Cardinals 14.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Tiger Woods appears shirtless and buffed on the cover of the recent Vanity Fair, a photo taken before his Skanko-Roman wrestling ways were revealed. Wonder if he plans to use the picture to attract chicks?...If Mike Leach did half of what he is accused of at Texas Tech, his firing was warranted, no matter how annoying the kid was. You can’t treat players like that, especially those whose daddies are espn broadcasters. Next time, lock the son of Mr. & Mrs. Nobody from Busted Boil, TX, in an equipment shed. Then again, given Leach’s love of pirates, it’s a wonder he didn’t make the young man walk the plank…Los Angeles Clippers broadcaster Michael Smith is accused of bilking a golfing buddy out of a cool $735,000 by convincing him to use his home as collateral for a loan on a development deal that went bad. The news isn’t all awful for the team, since given its oft-shaky defense, it’s good that somebody associated with the Clippers might be trying to steal something…There are reports that a “friendly” match between the U.S. and Mexican national soccer teams in Pasadena has been scrubbed over a dispute between Telemundo and Univision, each of which want to televise the game. But that’s only part of it. The real problem came when Rose Bowl officials mandated that Mexican fans could only bring in three bags of urine apiece to throw at the American players. Mexican fans wanted to bring nine…If Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas is suspended for a long period of time, he might just want to consider competing for a spot on the U.S. Olympic biathlon team. He could pair with teammate Javaris Crittenton, who might have some free time on his hands soon, too.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Admit it, you’re one of those Philadelphia fans who is secretly hoping the Eagles lose to Dallas Saturday, so the Donovan McNabb “era” can end. Or if you’re not, you know someone who is. You might get your wish, because the Birds don’t look like they have much hope at False Face’s pleasure dome, thanks to a defense that’s giving up points faster than espn can come out with new gimmicks (a 3-D channel?) and an offensive line that has the same cohesion as Charlie Sheen’s marriage. Those two were huge culprits in last week’s loss to the Cowboys, but few chose to look at it that way. It was all McNabb’s fault. And if the Birds lose this weekend – or next, or the one after that – there will a huge cry for Number Five’s dismissal. Maybe the vultures get their wish granted, and if they do, they had better be careful, because Kevin Kolb isn’t necessarily the answer, and teams without good QBs (see Bears, Chicago, among others) don’t win the Super Bowl and get a “prade” for “long-suffering” fans.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: NBA commissioner Uncle David Stern did the right thing by taking Arenas out of action, and he should not be swayed by the meathead’s recent remorseful statements regarding his gun shenanigans when deciding his ultimate punishment. Arenas still doesn’t think he did anything wrong, and that’s despicable. Stern should hammer Arenas hard by removing him from action for the rest of the year – without pay. And since attempting to void the rest of his contract would cause an uproar from the union, the next labor negotiations should establish clear penalties for those who bring firearms into a locker room or any other team-related area: minimum one-year suspensions and the end of their contracts. Stern needs to make examples of both Arenas and Wild West partner Javaris Crittenton, so the league reputation doesn’t revert to its 1970s version, when everybody thought the league was filled with renegades.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is with a heavy heart that El Hombre reports the passing of a true American hero and a loyal EH reader, Bill “Bitsy” Grant, who succumbed to cancer Tuesday at the age of 85. Bill was a walking 20th century history book, having survived the Great Depression, World War II (Normandy landing, Battle of the Bulge, historic meeting with Soviet troops in Germany) and perhaps most demanding, raising eight children. A loyal Hawk who graduated from Saint Joseph’s thanks to his hard work, smarts and the G.I. Bill, Bill later became a successful advertising executive. Bill was a devout Catholic and searched until his last days for the answers to life’s tough questions, never once expressing his frustration at how elusive that pursuit was. He loved the Phillies, golf, mystery novels, anything to do with St. Joe’s and his family. It took no cajoling whatsoever to elicit a rousing rendition of “The Night Paddy Murphy Died” from him at family gatherings, and woe to anybody who was caught behind him at the dessert table. Bill was a gentleman, an exemplary father and grandfather and a great friend. He will be missed greatly.
-EH-
Friday, November 13, 2009
It Ain't Hatin' If It's True
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Back in the early 1990s, a movement started among sycophantic media and fans that branded anyone with the temerity to criticize an athlete a “hater,” particularly if said performer was talented and entertaining. A cottage industry of products, publications and videos sprouted, celebrating pure ability and shucking aside inconvenient sporting tenets like team play and fundamentals. If someone could thrill, that was enough. Failure to lionize that was a sin punished by ridicule from fawning supporters, who deemed the critics unable to recognize the new way and branded them hopelessly old school and out of touch.
One of the faces among the vanguard of this new phenomenon was Allen Iverson, whom the Sixers drafted first overall in 1996. The jet-quick guard was a powerful intoxicant for the new fan order. He dazzled with his talent. He scored in bunches. He even looked the part, what with his ever-expanding canvas of body art, myriad hairstyles and ubercasual wardrobe. If there was anybody who was begging to be “hated,” it was Iverson.
There were indeed some people who couldn’t stand him for how he looked. There were plenty of people who couldn’t handle such an out-front manifestation of the hip-hop culture. To them, Iverson’s look – ball cap askew, oversized sweater/sweatshirt, baaaaaggy jeans, Tims – was an insult to society and proof that the rap culture was not only infiltrating everyday society but threatening it. Of course, we heard the same thing in the ‘70s, when Bill Walton was wearing tie-dyed shirts, growing that mangy beard of his and leaving tickets for Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir at Trailblazers games.
Those who protested Iverson’s look weren’t going to debate his basketball worth honestly. To them, he was a nightmare in high-tops and an emblem of the league’s imminent demise. They were every bit as unreasonable as the Other Side, which glorified Iverson’s talent, to whatever end he put it, and labeled anyone who dared to criticize him as a “hater.”
The short story of Iverson’s time in Philadelphia goes like this: Lots of points, lots of excitement, one thrilling playoff run, plenty of acrimony with coaches, the legendary “Practice?!” rant and a departure a year or two too late. Since that time, he has played for Denver, Detroit and (briefly) Memphis, with sketchy, unsatisfying results. Today, he sits at home, ostensibly sorting out “personal matters,” but mostly pouting over his role as a reserve on the dog-ass Grizzlies. Iverson still believes he should be a front-line NBA star. The apologists out there who care little about winning basketball agree.
Anybody who knows the game, and that includes executives from the 29 teams who wouldn’t go near Iverson, think differently. And therein lies the problem with Iverson today and throughout his career. It has always been about him and only him. Never once has he volunteered to sublimate his own numbers for the good of the franchise. Just as he thinks he has never committed a foul in his life (try to find a time when he was called for one and didn’t complain), Iverson is not about to listen to anybody who says he must adapt in order to be attractive to teams. To him, basketball is a game about scoring points, and if Iverson gets 40 minutes and 20 shots a night, he can produce big numbers. Whether that helps a team win or not has nothing to do with it. Nothing.
Back in the fall of 1997, El Hombre was at Big East basketball media day in New York. In a cramped hotel ballroom, coaches from the league’s teams sat at tables and fielded questions from the media huddled around them. The crowd near John Thompson was about three deep and eager to hear everything he said. Thompson began by giving assessments of his players and the coming season, delivering answers in his bottom-of-the-well baritone. Then the topics started to veer a little, offering El Hombre the opportunity to ask about Iverson, then a second-year Sixer, and the speculation that he would eventually become a distribute-first point guard. Thompson, who had gone out of his way to get Iverson to Georgetown, to the point of visiting him in jail while Iverson served a sentence for his part in a bowling alley riot, was one of Iverson’s staunchest defenders. His comments that day reflected two years (Iverson left after his sophomore season for the NBA) of dealing with a me-first player.
“You can’t change a zebra’s stripes,” he said.
The message was clear: Iverson is a shooter first, second and third, and those who dreamed of his becoming a lethal point man were wasting their sleep time. Since that day, Iverson has proven Thompson correct every minute he has been on the floor. And now that he is clearly no longer wanted as a first (or even second) offensive option, Iverson has taken his ball and gone home. What is so amazing about this guy is that only one team wanted him during the off-season, and that was Memphis, which needed someone to put a few posteriors in the seats. Yet Iverson is acting as if he chose the Grizz from a long list of suitors. (Actually, he said at the time that “God” chose Memphis for him.) This is a guy who has become so irrelevant and proven himself to be such a detriment to a winning team that nobody wants his talents. They know he has no commitment to winning basketball, rather only to himself. And they know after this recent tantrum that he has no desire to help a team. So, Iverson sits at home and waits to hear that he’ll get a chance to start and play 40 a night. It won’t happen.
The saddest thing about all of this is that he could be a huge piece on a title team, if only he understood what it took to win. Using him 20-25 minutes a night to penetrate and kick or blast through plodding defenders on the break would be a contender’s dream. Instead of embracing that opportunity, Iverson wants to pump up his own numbers. Worse, he still has a choir of voices behind him extolling his ball-hogging virtues. If a team wanted to build around him, he would be employed. None does. So, he’s a Grizzly, solely to sell a few tickets. What did he expect?
Sorry for hatin’, Allen, but you need to get a bit of reality in your life. If you want to play in the NBA, you had better become a team player.
If you can change your stripes.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: On the surface, LeBron James’ announcement that he is giving up his number 23 in honor of Michael Jordan seems like a magnanimous gesture, but trying to get the NBA to “retire” MJ’s number pales in comparison to Majoke League Baseball’s decision to shelve Jackie Robinson’s number 42. Jordan was great, but he didn’t break barriers. If players want to choose other numbers, fine. It shouldn’t be a league mandate…Jeez, why is Roger Goodell so mean. All Chad Ochocrazy did was mention the word “bribe,” in connection with a referee, and the NFL commissioner slapped him with a $20,000 fine. He was just having some fun, is all. Right. Shut your mouth, Chad, and write the check…How tough must the last 10 years have been for Jim Riggleman? He can’t stop telling people how happy he is to be a manager again after a decade out of the main chair, but he’s leading the Nationals. That’s barely an MLB team. Things must have been pretty tough, Jim…The NASCAR Chase for the Cup is getting wilder and wilder, thanks to Jimmie Johnson’s problems in Texas last week. Why, if things get any more exciting, the other 90% of the country might start paying attention. Might.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Phillies’ decision to let Pedro Feliz go, rather than pay him $5.5 million next season (there was a $500,000 buyout), is risky business. Although we have heard about all the candidates for third base out there, few could be considered an upgrade. Those who are may cost too much. Placido Polanco will be 34 and is coming off a shaky season. Plus, he has played two games at third since leaving Philadelphia. Chone Figgins hit five homers last year and wants about a five-year, $50 million deal. We’re not sure how old Miggy Tejada is. Adrian Beltre has injury questions and a huge price tag. Mark DeRosa is a possible solution, but he might be better as a utility bench guy. Yes, Feliz didn’t hit lefties well, but he’s a strong fielder who knocked in 82 runs from the seven spot last year. Even if the Phils bring him back at a discount, will be he be upset, and perhaps hurt the team’s chemistry? The team gets a huge benefit of the doubt for what it has done the past two years, but this was a curious start to the post-season.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: In his never-ending quest to show how ridiculous the BCS (Big College Swindle) El Hombre submits this week’s polls as exhibits S and T. One week after tearing apart the USC defense for 613 total yards in a 47-20 romp, Oregon lost to Stanford. So, the Mensa candidates who vote in the Harris and USA Today polls decided to drop the Ducks four (Harris) and six (USA) spots behind the Trojans, even though the teams have identical records and Oregon thumped ‘SC. USC’s win over Arizona State last week wasn’t even all that impressive, so it’s impossible to say the Trojans rebounded in style. It’s heinous that the world’s greatest sport is being hijacked by a “system” best suited for chimpanzee skateboard racing.
-EH-
Back in the early 1990s, a movement started among sycophantic media and fans that branded anyone with the temerity to criticize an athlete a “hater,” particularly if said performer was talented and entertaining. A cottage industry of products, publications and videos sprouted, celebrating pure ability and shucking aside inconvenient sporting tenets like team play and fundamentals. If someone could thrill, that was enough. Failure to lionize that was a sin punished by ridicule from fawning supporters, who deemed the critics unable to recognize the new way and branded them hopelessly old school and out of touch.
One of the faces among the vanguard of this new phenomenon was Allen Iverson, whom the Sixers drafted first overall in 1996. The jet-quick guard was a powerful intoxicant for the new fan order. He dazzled with his talent. He scored in bunches. He even looked the part, what with his ever-expanding canvas of body art, myriad hairstyles and ubercasual wardrobe. If there was anybody who was begging to be “hated,” it was Iverson.
There were indeed some people who couldn’t stand him for how he looked. There were plenty of people who couldn’t handle such an out-front manifestation of the hip-hop culture. To them, Iverson’s look – ball cap askew, oversized sweater/sweatshirt, baaaaaggy jeans, Tims – was an insult to society and proof that the rap culture was not only infiltrating everyday society but threatening it. Of course, we heard the same thing in the ‘70s, when Bill Walton was wearing tie-dyed shirts, growing that mangy beard of his and leaving tickets for Jerry Garcia and Bob Weir at Trailblazers games.
Those who protested Iverson’s look weren’t going to debate his basketball worth honestly. To them, he was a nightmare in high-tops and an emblem of the league’s imminent demise. They were every bit as unreasonable as the Other Side, which glorified Iverson’s talent, to whatever end he put it, and labeled anyone who dared to criticize him as a “hater.”
The short story of Iverson’s time in Philadelphia goes like this: Lots of points, lots of excitement, one thrilling playoff run, plenty of acrimony with coaches, the legendary “Practice?!” rant and a departure a year or two too late. Since that time, he has played for Denver, Detroit and (briefly) Memphis, with sketchy, unsatisfying results. Today, he sits at home, ostensibly sorting out “personal matters,” but mostly pouting over his role as a reserve on the dog-ass Grizzlies. Iverson still believes he should be a front-line NBA star. The apologists out there who care little about winning basketball agree.
Anybody who knows the game, and that includes executives from the 29 teams who wouldn’t go near Iverson, think differently. And therein lies the problem with Iverson today and throughout his career. It has always been about him and only him. Never once has he volunteered to sublimate his own numbers for the good of the franchise. Just as he thinks he has never committed a foul in his life (try to find a time when he was called for one and didn’t complain), Iverson is not about to listen to anybody who says he must adapt in order to be attractive to teams. To him, basketball is a game about scoring points, and if Iverson gets 40 minutes and 20 shots a night, he can produce big numbers. Whether that helps a team win or not has nothing to do with it. Nothing.
Back in the fall of 1997, El Hombre was at Big East basketball media day in New York. In a cramped hotel ballroom, coaches from the league’s teams sat at tables and fielded questions from the media huddled around them. The crowd near John Thompson was about three deep and eager to hear everything he said. Thompson began by giving assessments of his players and the coming season, delivering answers in his bottom-of-the-well baritone. Then the topics started to veer a little, offering El Hombre the opportunity to ask about Iverson, then a second-year Sixer, and the speculation that he would eventually become a distribute-first point guard. Thompson, who had gone out of his way to get Iverson to Georgetown, to the point of visiting him in jail while Iverson served a sentence for his part in a bowling alley riot, was one of Iverson’s staunchest defenders. His comments that day reflected two years (Iverson left after his sophomore season for the NBA) of dealing with a me-first player.
“You can’t change a zebra’s stripes,” he said.
The message was clear: Iverson is a shooter first, second and third, and those who dreamed of his becoming a lethal point man were wasting their sleep time. Since that day, Iverson has proven Thompson correct every minute he has been on the floor. And now that he is clearly no longer wanted as a first (or even second) offensive option, Iverson has taken his ball and gone home. What is so amazing about this guy is that only one team wanted him during the off-season, and that was Memphis, which needed someone to put a few posteriors in the seats. Yet Iverson is acting as if he chose the Grizz from a long list of suitors. (Actually, he said at the time that “God” chose Memphis for him.) This is a guy who has become so irrelevant and proven himself to be such a detriment to a winning team that nobody wants his talents. They know he has no commitment to winning basketball, rather only to himself. And they know after this recent tantrum that he has no desire to help a team. So, Iverson sits at home and waits to hear that he’ll get a chance to start and play 40 a night. It won’t happen.
The saddest thing about all of this is that he could be a huge piece on a title team, if only he understood what it took to win. Using him 20-25 minutes a night to penetrate and kick or blast through plodding defenders on the break would be a contender’s dream. Instead of embracing that opportunity, Iverson wants to pump up his own numbers. Worse, he still has a choir of voices behind him extolling his ball-hogging virtues. If a team wanted to build around him, he would be employed. None does. So, he’s a Grizzly, solely to sell a few tickets. What did he expect?
Sorry for hatin’, Allen, but you need to get a bit of reality in your life. If you want to play in the NBA, you had better become a team player.
If you can change your stripes.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: On the surface, LeBron James’ announcement that he is giving up his number 23 in honor of Michael Jordan seems like a magnanimous gesture, but trying to get the NBA to “retire” MJ’s number pales in comparison to Majoke League Baseball’s decision to shelve Jackie Robinson’s number 42. Jordan was great, but he didn’t break barriers. If players want to choose other numbers, fine. It shouldn’t be a league mandate…Jeez, why is Roger Goodell so mean. All Chad Ochocrazy did was mention the word “bribe,” in connection with a referee, and the NFL commissioner slapped him with a $20,000 fine. He was just having some fun, is all. Right. Shut your mouth, Chad, and write the check…How tough must the last 10 years have been for Jim Riggleman? He can’t stop telling people how happy he is to be a manager again after a decade out of the main chair, but he’s leading the Nationals. That’s barely an MLB team. Things must have been pretty tough, Jim…The NASCAR Chase for the Cup is getting wilder and wilder, thanks to Jimmie Johnson’s problems in Texas last week. Why, if things get any more exciting, the other 90% of the country might start paying attention. Might.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The Phillies’ decision to let Pedro Feliz go, rather than pay him $5.5 million next season (there was a $500,000 buyout), is risky business. Although we have heard about all the candidates for third base out there, few could be considered an upgrade. Those who are may cost too much. Placido Polanco will be 34 and is coming off a shaky season. Plus, he has played two games at third since leaving Philadelphia. Chone Figgins hit five homers last year and wants about a five-year, $50 million deal. We’re not sure how old Miggy Tejada is. Adrian Beltre has injury questions and a huge price tag. Mark DeRosa is a possible solution, but he might be better as a utility bench guy. Yes, Feliz didn’t hit lefties well, but he’s a strong fielder who knocked in 82 runs from the seven spot last year. Even if the Phils bring him back at a discount, will be he be upset, and perhaps hurt the team’s chemistry? The team gets a huge benefit of the doubt for what it has done the past two years, but this was a curious start to the post-season.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: In his never-ending quest to show how ridiculous the BCS (Big College Swindle) El Hombre submits this week’s polls as exhibits S and T. One week after tearing apart the USC defense for 613 total yards in a 47-20 romp, Oregon lost to Stanford. So, the Mensa candidates who vote in the Harris and USA Today polls decided to drop the Ducks four (Harris) and six (USA) spots behind the Trojans, even though the teams have identical records and Oregon thumped ‘SC. USC’s win over Arizona State last week wasn’t even all that impressive, so it’s impossible to say the Trojans rebounded in style. It’s heinous that the world’s greatest sport is being hijacked by a “system” best suited for chimpanzee skateboard racing.
-EH-
Friday, November 6, 2009
What A Season It Was
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
There is always a temptation to focus on the outcome of a long journey, rather than the process of reaching the destination. If you drive for hours to watch a game, reveling in the company and discussion along the way, little of that is remembered if the contest’s outcome is dissatisfying. Over the river and through the woods is no fun – in retrospect – if the turkey is overcooked, and the eggnog is sour. No matter how much enjoyment can be found along the way, if the end doesn’t measure up, the whole production suffers.
That’s particularly true in sports. No matter how much enjoyment a team provides throughout a long, arduous season, if the odyssey doesn’t end in a championship, fans find it hard to deem the campaign a success. Think Patriots supporters remember the warm glow of 18-0, or the misery of their Super Bowl loss? Ask the folks from Oklahoma whether they think about last year’s 13-0 start or suffer nightmares of the “national title game” loss to Florida. It’s almost universal.
Winning it all is important, but sports can’t be a zero-sum game, unless you are a Pirates fan, in which case every season
is a disaster. There is one champion per sport per year. If you apply the win-it-all-or-bust theory to a 30-team league, there will be 29 sets of miserable people scattered throughout the country, with their dreams crushed week-by-week as the schedule unfolds. Or, in the case of the Browns, the minute training camp begins. For those fans fortunate enough to enjoy regular-season success, followed by playoff intensity, a win-or-bust mentality will erase any happiness created by months of relative prosperity should the trophy end up somewhere else.
It shouldn’t be that way, especially when it comes to the Phillies’ World Series loss to the Yanks. It’s right to be sad and
even a little bit angry (okay, when it comes to Brad Lidge’s meltdown in game four, mad as hell; more on that later) about the defeat, but to judge the season anything less than terrific is ridiculous. Are Philadelphia fans’ memories so short that they cannot remember the euphoria that took hold of the city after the NLCS triumph over the milquetoast Dodgers? Is it that hard to recall the sense of pride that prevailed when Cliff Lee mastered the Yankees in the first game of the World Series, in the Bronx? It remains remarkable that people who accept – and often cultivate – mediocrity in their own lives, refuse to appreciate excellence in their sports teams, even if the ultimate outcome isn’t perfectly palatable. It would have been historic and remarkable had the Phillies won a second straight Series, but they ran into a better team and couldn’t scale the final peak. For that we’re supposed to deem the season anything less than great? Come on.
Thursday night, El Hombre had a wide-ranging conversation with compadre and financial whiz Roger Ramjet. During the discourse about the Phillies and their off-season mandates, RR said something that should be remembered as fans try to put the 2009 season into perspective. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without a game to watch,” he said. There it was, crystallized in its purest form. From April until early November, the Phillies had given the city seven months of nightly enjoyment and excitement. As other Majoke League Baseball teams were rendered irrelevant one-by-one (the Nationals became meaningless in early May), the Phillies marched along, through the regular season and its highs and lows, through the playoffs and their high drama and onto baseball’s biggest stage. No matter how heartbreaking the outcome, fans cannot forget the remarkable ride. They can’t do anything but adore their heroes, even if the New York triumph ceases all ridiculous talk about “dynasties” and “greatest teams ever.” For the record, the Celtics’ 11 titles in 13 years from 1957-69 constitute a dynasty. The Yankees’ seven World Series championships from 1936-47 were dynastic. The Canadiens’ nine Stanley Cup wins from 1956-69 equaled a dynasty. The 806-year (1027-221 B.C.) Zhou rule in China, now that was a dynasty.
Anyway, the 2009 Phillies season goes into the books as giant W, despite the final shortfall. Let’s face it; as much as we wanted the Phils to knock off New York, it was rather hard to compete with the all-star laden lineup the Yanks put forth, especially with some of the small showings by previous Philadelphia stalwarts (see Hamels, Cole; Lidge, Brad; Howard, Ryan). Watching the Yankees win the World Series is like watching a rich guy buy his way out of legal trouble. There’s something antiseptic about seeing Standard Oil celebrating a stacked deck. Worse is hearing network apologists saluting the “great group of guys” and “tremendous camaraderie” the Yankees showed, when the real reason for the title was a team payroll obscene enough to generate protests from the Moral Majority.
While the Yankees plot their next move and continue to print money, the Phillies must address some questions during the off-season. In no particular order, they must find a new backup catcher (so long Paul “Master Builder” Bako), a utility infielder who doesn’t look like a Civil War re-enactor and play like a Daughter of the American Revolution, a pinch-hitter who can do more than hit one homer every Halley’s Comet sighting and a reliable middle reliever (Chad Durbin) who doesn’t find his way onto the field courtesy of some compromising photographs of the team manager and Lainie Kazan.
More important are the futures of Cole “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow” Hamels and Brad Lidge, who needs to 86 the Amish beard and find his mojo. Forget about Hamels’ comments after game three of the Series. He needs to focus on developing an effective third pitch, or he’ll never be an ace again. And Lidge needs to understand that pitchers with ERAs hovering near 8.00 don’t get to pitch for contenders. That’s why the Orioles are still in business.
Answers (we hope) to all of these questions will emerge in the coming weeks and months. For now, fans should relish the memories of a tremendous season, despite the disappointing dénouement. Things may not have ended perfectly for the Phillies, but they provided the city with one helluva ride. Think about that for a while, and you might just get something more important than a championship.
Perspective.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: People who railed about the ridiculous length of the World Series games focused on mound conversations, batters’ stepping out and various other time-wasting tactics. The real culprits were the four-minute commercial marathons that Fox unfurled between each half-inning. Add those up, and you have enough time to play five innings…U.S. skier Bode Miller has announced he will return to the slopes and take part in a “full schedule.” Of course, that means something different for him than most people in his sport. Included on the itinerary are beer pong, nightclubbing, late-night hot tub liaisons in Gstaad and maybe even some skiing…How about that Andre Agassi autobiography? There’s some strong stuff in there. Love the part about the wig. And revealing that he wore lifts to marry Brooke Shields is priceless. Could do without the information about playing while not wearing underwear, though. Now, if Gabriela Sabatini wants to write a tell-all and reveal that information, she should have at it. Now…Fox is bringing its NFL pre-game show to Afghanistan to support the troops and perhaps use Terry Bradshaw as a weapon against the enemy, but the biggest reason for the road show is that Minnesota has a bye this week, so there will be time to fill in lieu of the usual weekly posterior-polishing of Brett Favre. Undaunted by the schedule gap, espn is planning a 15-minute segment detailing Favre’s leisure-week activities, including in-depth interviews with his couch and lawnmower.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Now that the main sports season in Philadelphia has concluded, the Eagles have a chance to take the stage and capture the city’s fans – at least until pitchers and catchers report next February. A win over Dallas Sunday night would go a long way toward accomplishing that. If there is one thing that has characterized the Birds this year it has been their inconsistency. They certainly looked great trampling the overrated Giants last week, but the Cowboys are hot, and another desultory effort (Raiders, Redskins) will put the Eagles in a tough spot in the NFC East. Injuries have been a concern this year for Andy Reid’s team. So has continuity. The good news for Sunday night? Reid vs. Dallas coach Wade Phillips is a mismatch. And though it isn’t January yet, you can usually count on Tony Romo to choke it up in big games. Win this one, and the Birds’ bandwagon will be filled. Lose it, and the spring training countdown might get cranked up a couple months early.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: If NFL commissioner Roger Goodell is smart, he has begun the process of investigating the allegations that Raiders coach Tom Cable physically abused his former wife and girlfriend. And should Goodell find compelling evidence that Cable did indeed hit them, he should be fired. Goodell has been hard on players who have broken the law and acted inappropriately, and he cannot back down on Cable, if the coach indeed struck the women. There is no room for that kind of behavior in society, and there should be no tolerance for it in the NFL. We heard all about the need to preserve the league’s image when Michael Vick, Plaxico Burress, Tank Johnson and Pac-man Jones were being disciplined, and rightly so. The league’s image is at stake in this situation, also. If Cable did it, he must go. That’s all there is to it. Goodell needs to find out what has happened and act quickly, or his credibility as a law-and-order commissioner will take a hit, and the NFL will look like an organization that condones physical abuse of women.
-EH-
There is always a temptation to focus on the outcome of a long journey, rather than the process of reaching the destination. If you drive for hours to watch a game, reveling in the company and discussion along the way, little of that is remembered if the contest’s outcome is dissatisfying. Over the river and through the woods is no fun – in retrospect – if the turkey is overcooked, and the eggnog is sour. No matter how much enjoyment can be found along the way, if the end doesn’t measure up, the whole production suffers.
That’s particularly true in sports. No matter how much enjoyment a team provides throughout a long, arduous season, if the odyssey doesn’t end in a championship, fans find it hard to deem the campaign a success. Think Patriots supporters remember the warm glow of 18-0, or the misery of their Super Bowl loss? Ask the folks from Oklahoma whether they think about last year’s 13-0 start or suffer nightmares of the “national title game” loss to Florida. It’s almost universal.
Winning it all is important, but sports can’t be a zero-sum game, unless you are a Pirates fan, in which case every season
is a disaster. There is one champion per sport per year. If you apply the win-it-all-or-bust theory to a 30-team league, there will be 29 sets of miserable people scattered throughout the country, with their dreams crushed week-by-week as the schedule unfolds. Or, in the case of the Browns, the minute training camp begins. For those fans fortunate enough to enjoy regular-season success, followed by playoff intensity, a win-or-bust mentality will erase any happiness created by months of relative prosperity should the trophy end up somewhere else.
It shouldn’t be that way, especially when it comes to the Phillies’ World Series loss to the Yanks. It’s right to be sad and
even a little bit angry (okay, when it comes to Brad Lidge’s meltdown in game four, mad as hell; more on that later) about the defeat, but to judge the season anything less than terrific is ridiculous. Are Philadelphia fans’ memories so short that they cannot remember the euphoria that took hold of the city after the NLCS triumph over the milquetoast Dodgers? Is it that hard to recall the sense of pride that prevailed when Cliff Lee mastered the Yankees in the first game of the World Series, in the Bronx? It remains remarkable that people who accept – and often cultivate – mediocrity in their own lives, refuse to appreciate excellence in their sports teams, even if the ultimate outcome isn’t perfectly palatable. It would have been historic and remarkable had the Phillies won a second straight Series, but they ran into a better team and couldn’t scale the final peak. For that we’re supposed to deem the season anything less than great? Come on.
Thursday night, El Hombre had a wide-ranging conversation with compadre and financial whiz Roger Ramjet. During the discourse about the Phillies and their off-season mandates, RR said something that should be remembered as fans try to put the 2009 season into perspective. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without a game to watch,” he said. There it was, crystallized in its purest form. From April until early November, the Phillies had given the city seven months of nightly enjoyment and excitement. As other Majoke League Baseball teams were rendered irrelevant one-by-one (the Nationals became meaningless in early May), the Phillies marched along, through the regular season and its highs and lows, through the playoffs and their high drama and onto baseball’s biggest stage. No matter how heartbreaking the outcome, fans cannot forget the remarkable ride. They can’t do anything but adore their heroes, even if the New York triumph ceases all ridiculous talk about “dynasties” and “greatest teams ever.” For the record, the Celtics’ 11 titles in 13 years from 1957-69 constitute a dynasty. The Yankees’ seven World Series championships from 1936-47 were dynastic. The Canadiens’ nine Stanley Cup wins from 1956-69 equaled a dynasty. The 806-year (1027-221 B.C.) Zhou rule in China, now that was a dynasty.
Anyway, the 2009 Phillies season goes into the books as giant W, despite the final shortfall. Let’s face it; as much as we wanted the Phils to knock off New York, it was rather hard to compete with the all-star laden lineup the Yanks put forth, especially with some of the small showings by previous Philadelphia stalwarts (see Hamels, Cole; Lidge, Brad; Howard, Ryan). Watching the Yankees win the World Series is like watching a rich guy buy his way out of legal trouble. There’s something antiseptic about seeing Standard Oil celebrating a stacked deck. Worse is hearing network apologists saluting the “great group of guys” and “tremendous camaraderie” the Yankees showed, when the real reason for the title was a team payroll obscene enough to generate protests from the Moral Majority.
While the Yankees plot their next move and continue to print money, the Phillies must address some questions during the off-season. In no particular order, they must find a new backup catcher (so long Paul “Master Builder” Bako), a utility infielder who doesn’t look like a Civil War re-enactor and play like a Daughter of the American Revolution, a pinch-hitter who can do more than hit one homer every Halley’s Comet sighting and a reliable middle reliever (Chad Durbin) who doesn’t find his way onto the field courtesy of some compromising photographs of the team manager and Lainie Kazan.
More important are the futures of Cole “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow” Hamels and Brad Lidge, who needs to 86 the Amish beard and find his mojo. Forget about Hamels’ comments after game three of the Series. He needs to focus on developing an effective third pitch, or he’ll never be an ace again. And Lidge needs to understand that pitchers with ERAs hovering near 8.00 don’t get to pitch for contenders. That’s why the Orioles are still in business.
Answers (we hope) to all of these questions will emerge in the coming weeks and months. For now, fans should relish the memories of a tremendous season, despite the disappointing dénouement. Things may not have ended perfectly for the Phillies, but they provided the city with one helluva ride. Think about that for a while, and you might just get something more important than a championship.
Perspective.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: People who railed about the ridiculous length of the World Series games focused on mound conversations, batters’ stepping out and various other time-wasting tactics. The real culprits were the four-minute commercial marathons that Fox unfurled between each half-inning. Add those up, and you have enough time to play five innings…U.S. skier Bode Miller has announced he will return to the slopes and take part in a “full schedule.” Of course, that means something different for him than most people in his sport. Included on the itinerary are beer pong, nightclubbing, late-night hot tub liaisons in Gstaad and maybe even some skiing…How about that Andre Agassi autobiography? There’s some strong stuff in there. Love the part about the wig. And revealing that he wore lifts to marry Brooke Shields is priceless. Could do without the information about playing while not wearing underwear, though. Now, if Gabriela Sabatini wants to write a tell-all and reveal that information, she should have at it. Now…Fox is bringing its NFL pre-game show to Afghanistan to support the troops and perhaps use Terry Bradshaw as a weapon against the enemy, but the biggest reason for the road show is that Minnesota has a bye this week, so there will be time to fill in lieu of the usual weekly posterior-polishing of Brett Favre. Undaunted by the schedule gap, espn is planning a 15-minute segment detailing Favre’s leisure-week activities, including in-depth interviews with his couch and lawnmower.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Now that the main sports season in Philadelphia has concluded, the Eagles have a chance to take the stage and capture the city’s fans – at least until pitchers and catchers report next February. A win over Dallas Sunday night would go a long way toward accomplishing that. If there is one thing that has characterized the Birds this year it has been their inconsistency. They certainly looked great trampling the overrated Giants last week, but the Cowboys are hot, and another desultory effort (Raiders, Redskins) will put the Eagles in a tough spot in the NFC East. Injuries have been a concern this year for Andy Reid’s team. So has continuity. The good news for Sunday night? Reid vs. Dallas coach Wade Phillips is a mismatch. And though it isn’t January yet, you can usually count on Tony Romo to choke it up in big games. Win this one, and the Birds’ bandwagon will be filled. Lose it, and the spring training countdown might get cranked up a couple months early.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: If NFL commissioner Roger Goodell is smart, he has begun the process of investigating the allegations that Raiders coach Tom Cable physically abused his former wife and girlfriend. And should Goodell find compelling evidence that Cable did indeed hit them, he should be fired. Goodell has been hard on players who have broken the law and acted inappropriately, and he cannot back down on Cable, if the coach indeed struck the women. There is no room for that kind of behavior in society, and there should be no tolerance for it in the NFL. We heard all about the need to preserve the league’s image when Michael Vick, Plaxico Burress, Tank Johnson and Pac-man Jones were being disciplined, and rightly so. The league’s image is at stake in this situation, also. If Cable did it, he must go. That’s all there is to it. Goodell needs to find out what has happened and act quickly, or his credibility as a law-and-order commissioner will take a hit, and the NFL will look like an organization that condones physical abuse of women.
-EH-
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