EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
For a lot of people, the Winter Olympics consist primarily of hundreds of anonymous people with too many consonants in their names hurtling down frozen patches of earth in a collective attempt to avoid serious injury. Maddening cowbells and silly horns provide a cacophonous soundtrack to the outdoor insanity, and when the action moves inside, fans can count on gushing skating commentators and curling analysts talking about a sport that few understand. To many, the saving grace is ice hockey that actually means something, substituting for that mid-season clash between the Predators and Blue Jackets.
Welcome to Vancouver, 2010.
That, of course, is an oversimplified view of the Games, which debut Friday and will for two weeks provide NBC and its sister networks with some programming people will actually want to watch. There will be some compelling theater, as there is whenever elite athletes gather. The problem is that U.S. competitors can be eliminated right now from medal contention in dozens of events, including mostly anything with a sled, ski or gun. Oh, Lindsay Vonn ought to have strong showings in the downhill and something called the super giant slalom, provided the painkillers work, and there’s a chance the two-woman bobsled team of Shauna Rohbock and Michelle Rzepka could find its way onto the medal stand. But if you want to wave the Stars and Stripes proudly and tear up as a countryman (or woman) accepts a medal, better pay attention to the skating and X Games events, which seem to have been added just to pump up the U.S. win total.
With all of that in mind, here are a few storylines to consider before the flame is lit.
White Out: Looks like they should have held the Olympics in Washington D.C., since the nation’s capital has endured something like 300 inches of snow in the last five days, while Vancouver has to truck the stuff in from Saskatoon. They’ll be able to freeze up the downhill with no problems, but the freestyle crowd might have some sloppy conditions. Like, bummer, dude.
Stone Groove: Nobody really understands curling, but after the Turin Games in ’06, everybody was talking about it. Usually, the only time we hear about big stones moving is during an avalanche, so it’s refreshing to see them being controlled, albeit by frenzied sweepers, as thousands of Europeans cheer the come-arounds and double-takeouts and hope the Schnapps doesn’t run out if there are extra ends.
Skeleton Crew: Bobsled is crazy, and luge is nuts. But for true lunacy, check out skeleton, in which adrenalin junkies endure 5Gs of force while careering down an icy tunnel at up to 60 mph on a piece of steel and plastic that has no steering mechanism or brakes. What’s next, being shot out of a cannon down the bobsled run?
National Pride: There is no truth to the rumor that if the Canadian men’s hockey team doesn’t win the gold medal, its members will be summarily executed by a group of deranged Mounties. But should the home team fail, there will no doubt be pitchforks and torches outside the team hotel. And should the Russians apply the final indignity, expect the country to slip into a depression that no amount of Molson and back bacon can cure.
Vonn-derful World: Lindsey Vonn had everything in place for the perfect 21st century Olympic bonanza. She had the suggestive SI cover, the appearance in the same magazine’s swimsuit extravaganza, more endorsements than Air Jordan had in his prime and a strong resume. All she needed were some gold medals around her neck, and she was headed for Phelpstown – without the bong. But along came a minor distract-shin. Vonn’s pre-Olympic shin injury has threatened it all and could send her back to the anonymity of the European ski circuit and its Tyrolean cowbell ringers. Vonn had better find a magical elixir for the injury, before Americans find some cute, young figure skater upon whom they can shower their affection and dollars.
Dopes: The first blade hasn’t even been put to ice in earnest, and already up to 30 athletes have been disqualified from the Games for positive tests for performance-enhancing drugs. Unbelievable. Vancouver tries to stage the Olympics, and a late-‘90s baseball game breaks out. It would be tempting to see whether one of the cheats is Balco Bonds, but he is likely in the clear, since it would impossible to find equipment that would fit him. Imagine how big his bobsled helmet would have to be. And no company makes skis long enough for his unnaturally huge feet. The names of the offenders have not been released, so rumors that every one is a member of a former Eastern Bloc country can’t be substantiated.
Blades of Glory: The featured events of the Olympics, at least for those who pay little attention to sports the other three-
plus years of the Games’ cycle, are the figure skating competitions. While other competitions are sponsored by sports drinks, cars and beer, skating’s commercial roster includes Dove Moisturizing System II, Monistat 21st Century and Massengill Fruit Sensations. There’s nothing better than a bunch of guys in tuxedos gushing over Svetlana’s triple salchow and then waiting anxiously to find out whether the miserable French judge is still furious over having her Olympic hopes dashed back in Innsbruck. Skating is shown in prime time, is treated like a debutante ball and pulls in huge ratings. Expect the Russians and Asians to dominate and pray that this is the year one of the men’s pairs competitors actually launches his partner over the boards during the freestyle competition.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: St. Louis Cardinals officials announced earlier this week that new hitting coach Muscles McGwire will answer no questions about the PEDs he pumped into his system while shattering records and ruining baseball’s reputation. Fine. Here’s a request for no media member to speak to him, write about him or mention his name on TV or radio. If he’s trying to sanitize his name for future Hall of Fame consideration (Ha!), let him do it by himself…Speaking of atrocities against America’s pastime, the Milwaukee Brewers are going to erect a statue of Bud Sellout outside their stadium, next to sculptures of Hank Aaron and Robin Yount. What’s next, a mural of the Black Sox outside new Comiskey? Or perhaps a monument to the 1962 New York Mets? If the Brewers insist on commemorating Sellout, make sure the statue depicts him doing what he did best: lying about his role in the steroid era…Danica Patrick makes her official NASCAR debut this Sunday in the Daytona 500, which ought to create questions among the Billy Bob set. For instance, do her fans have to get bikini waxes, instead of shaving her car’s number into their back hair? And what happens if she wins a race before Dale, Jr. – like everybody else has? Tough questions, but that’s what makes stock car racing such a great “sport.”…The NBA All-Star Layup Lines take place Sunday, but the real news in the sport is next Thursday’s trade deadline. Deals are already percolating, with the most popular a rumored three-way swap involving Problem Child, Ugly Contract and Unfulfilled Potential.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? Phillies pitchers and catchers report to Clearwater next Wednesday, and that’s good news for those who are sick of digging out from under more snow than Tony Montana used to sling back in the day. But the level of excitement that should accompany the start of a season that could feature a third consecutive World Series appearance has been diluted by the fact that the organization refused to make the power move that would have given the Phils the best rotation in baseball. No matter how good Roy Halladay promises to be, the thought of pairing him and Cliff Lee atop the team’s starters is too tough to eliminate from fans’ minds, especially since none of the three minor-leaguers acquired for Lee is considered to be a future star. So what if Lee pitched one year and left in free agency? At least the Phils would have had him and Halladay together for 162 games – with Cole Hamels in the no-pressure number three spot. Instead of giving fans that, the team tried to jam a story down their throats that the farm stocks had to be replenished for future success. Horse manure! It was a money decision, and that’s it. The team didn’t want to pay Lee $9 million this year, didn’t want to lose him for nothing after the season and was afraid of being painted as cheapskates by not making a strong move for him in free agency next winter. There is still a lot to be excited about for the team, but Lee’s absence tempers the enthusiasm, and that’s a damn shame.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The tears of joy were barely dry in New Orleans this week when the NFL’s perpetual news cycle sprang to life with rumors about possible trades, speculation about the free agent pool, worries about a potential work stoppage in 2011 and an avalanche of mock drafts. Behold the magic of the world’s most potent sports juggernaut. Even though March Madness looms, exhibition baseball games begin in fewer than three weeks, and the NBA is working overtime to promote itself, nothing can top the NFL, which has perfected the art of attracting off-season attention. Since fans are forced to wait six-plus long months until the next regular-season concussion, the league needs to prime the pump. And prime it the NFL does. Next up is free agency. Then the Draft. Mini-camps and OTAs are always good for drama. And the one month before training camp that used to be quiet time is now consumed with rumors about Cowboy Quarterback’s angst-filled decision-making process. When labor negotiations commence in earnest, the league will try to chop the players’ share of revenues from 59% to about 41%, crying poor the whole time. Don’t believe a word of it. The NFL is flush with cash, and its bottom line only getting bigger. Over the next few months, you’ll see why.
-EH-
Friday, February 12, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
The Ankle Bowl
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Since Super Bowl XLIV will turn completely on the condition of Dwight Freeney’s ankle, it’s practically pointless to spend any time analyzing whether New Orleans’ defense can slow down the Colts’ passing attack, or if Reggie Bush is really going to propose to Kim Kardashian, now that the Saints have reached the Big Game.
Nope, it’s all ankle, all the time.
Tuesday, during Super Bowl media day, Freeney answered questions from reporters about the ankle, how he’s rehabbing the ankle, how the ankle feels in the morning and what he hopes will happen with the ankle. The last time people talked about a joint this much was during The Pineapple Express. Folks tried to make it about something other than Freeney’s ankle, to no avail. Chad OchoCrazy showed up with his own news network, which is kind of like the episode when the Three Stooges were doctors. Peyton Manning tried to make a joke, but his timing was off, and when the thing bombed, he blamed it on his little brother. The requisite collection of crazies, including a woman wearing a halo and a former American Midol contestant, was on hand, but nothing could top the biggest story: Will he or won’t he? Can he or can’t he? Is he or isn’t he?
The worst thing about the entire Freeney situation is that we won’t know a damn thing until he steps onto the field Sunday against the Saints. Until then, we will be subjected to an excruciating torrent of conjecture regarding how much Freeney will be able to play and what the Colts/Saints will do if he can’t go. Believe me; by the time kickoff comes around, the insanity surrounding the OchoCrazy News Network will seem like mother’s milk compared to the Freeney frenzy.
The big reason for the hysteria regarding one player’s cranky ankle is that the rest of the storylines surrounding the Super Bowl have created the same level of interest as Joe Biden’s daily schedule. Okay, okay, we get that this is a big deal for New Orleans. And that the healing from Hurricane Katrina’s devastation can continue only if every Big Easy resident is face down in a puddle of beer come Monday morning. We know that Peyton Manning is trying to cement his legacy, the better to continue his quest for domination of the advertising world. We’re cheering for Pierre Garcon and his Haitian friends and relatives to overcome the horrors of the earthquake, as if some poor guy who has lost everything in Port-au-Prince gives a rat’s backside about whether Garcon’s team wins the game.
But this is all well trod ground. About the only good stuff coming out of the run-up to the game are the comments by New Orleans defensive coordinator Gregg Williams about how his team wants to lay some “remember me” shots on Manning to make him less comfortable in the pocket. Not bad, but not enough. Where is the outrageous behavior? Where is Deion Sanders telling people that his new Lamborghini was a present from “myself to myself?” Where is Shannon Sharpe vs. Ray Buchanan, 2010 style? Why hasn’t President Obama sent one of the teams’ coaches a play he designed, as Nixon was rumored to have done before Super Bowl VII.
If the boredom generated by the pre-game run-up is any indication, we’re headed for an old-fashioned, yawner on Sunday. We’re talking Colts-Cowboys, 1971, Redskins-Dolphins, 1973 or Bucs-Raiders, 2003. Then again, perhaps the two explosive offenses are saving their pyrotechnics for the field, rather than filling up notebooks and tape recorders with inane pre-game comments. Let’s hope that’s the case, because the way this week is going is enough to make people want to watch HGTV. The only people who have it worse than the general public are the reporters who have to find something to talk or write about every day.
Fortunately, they have the old standby: Freeney’s ankle. When in doubt, talk about electronic stimulation or hyperbaric chambers, and you’ll be just fine.
Is it Sunday yet?
* * *
THE PICK: During the regular season and even the first couple rounds of the playoffs, the only wagers people care about involve the pointspread, the over/under and the money line. That’s it. The beauty of the Super Bowl is that everything is in play, from the game’s outcome to whether one of the kickers will mistake Snooki for a football and try to boot her through the uprights.
Here are this week’s picks:
Coin Flip: Heads
Times Referee Calls For a Measurement: Two
Number of Pete Townsend windmills at halftime: Seven
Oh, El Hombre almost forgot. Give the points in this one. We can talk about sympathy and heartstrings and Who Dat? but this is about the Colts’ ability to carve up a shaky Saints secondary (26th in the NFL vs. the pass). Yes, DWIGHT FREENEY’S ANKLE will be a factor, but the Indy defense will still create some trouble for the Saints’ attack. Peyton Manning gets his second Super Bowl, but please stop with the “greatest ever” talk. He still has some work to do in that department. Indianapolis 30, New Orleans 20.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Last week, the New Jersey Nets’ management enlisted a sports psychologist to help the woebegone team snap out of its historic funk. During his presentation, the hoops shrink jammed a needle into his cheek to demonstrate mental toughness. That runs counter to the actions of Nets fans, who have been sticking needles in their eyes all season…The onset of the Winter Olympics means the arrival in Vancouver of husky Russian biathlon competitors – and those are just the women – not to mention the anticipated pairs figure skating performance by fellow Russians Oksana Domnina and Maxim Shabalin, whose aboriginal routine sets new lows for international relations. (What’s next, a pair spoofing minstrel shows?) The big question facing the Games is whether anybody notices that the NHL will be shut down for two weeks.. Didn’t think so…College football signing day has come and gone, with the requisite “winners” and “losers,” not to mention the premature deification of a bunch of high schoolers. The big story, however, is that Lane Kiffin is still at USC and further that he has yet to say anything stupid, at least publicly…Break up the Twins! Buoyed by anticipated revenues from its new ballpark, Minnesota added Orlando Hudson to its lineup and is working on a megadeal for star catcher Joe Mauer. It’s amazing what a new ballpark will do for you, unless you’re Pittsburgh, of course…Kevin Durant’s recent scoring binge has been great to watch, but the best thing about the 6-9 Thunder star is that his name doesn’t lend itself to one of the lazy nicknames people confer on athletes. “K-Dur” just doesn’t cut it. Thankfully, “Durantula” does.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The fears that the Eagles hired Dick Jauron as a possible replacement for defensive coordinator Sean McDermott warrant some discussion, since McDermott wasn’t ready for the job when he took over (not his fault), and the Birds’ D did take a step back in 2009, although injuries and poor personnel decisions had more to do with the decay than McDermott’s inability to channel Jim Johnson. What is most worrisome about the move is that Andy Reid may have decided that the team’s secondary problems do not need to be fixed by talent upgrades, rather than having someone else “coach ‘em up.” Jauron certainly knows his stuff, having been a head coach, a defensive boss and a secondary tutor. But going into 2010 without another top-shelf safety and without doing something about Asante Samuel’s predilection for playing flag football would be a huge mistake, one that Jauron can’t fix by himself. McDermott should worry a little about the new arrival, but if Reid thinks the mere presence of an experience hand on the back line will overcome the ’09 problems, then Eagles fans will be the ones doing the real worrying.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The pending announcement that the NC2A is planning to opt out of the final three years of its 11-season, $6 billion contract with CBS (don’t even think it won’t happen) is scary for fans of the only part of the college basketball season that really matters – the tournament. With the call for new bids will come a tacit understanding that the NC2A is wide open to an enlarging of the tourney, a move that would ruin what may be the most perfect thing in sports and the only thing the organization does well – besides screwing its student-athletes. Greed, of course, will win out, since an expanded tourney (up to as many as 96 teams) would bring a bigger annual payday, even in this shaky climate. There are reports that CBS will partner with Turner to counter espn’s multi-platform bid and put more games on the air. Or, it could mean more weight behind a pay-per-view scenario. No one will get an argument on expansion from coaches, who want more teams in so that more coaches can protect their jobs. The real losers are the fans and the tournament itself, which has grown organically over the years and has done just well in its current form for 25 years. (Okay, so they added an extra game in ’01.) Bringing in 31 more at-large teams will dilute the tourney beyond recognition. Last year, there were maybe three or four other teams that had legitimate beefs about being excluded. And by adding another 15 games in an “opening round” format, the tourney will lose many of the mid-major and small conference teams that have made the first two rounds of the tourney so compelling over the years. Ask yourself what’s more exciting, the thought of Robert Morris’ upsetting Clemson or Seton Hall’s doing it. It’s a pretty easy question to answer. And if the expansion comes, it’s likely that plenty of the Robert Morrises of the NC2A world will be eliminated before they can take on the giants. In the end, greed will win, and the NC2A will learn eventually that it ruined a perfect thing.
-EH-
Since Super Bowl XLIV will turn completely on the condition of Dwight Freeney’s ankle, it’s practically pointless to spend any time analyzing whether New Orleans’ defense can slow down the Colts’ passing attack, or if Reggie Bush is really going to propose to Kim Kardashian, now that the Saints have reached the Big Game.
Nope, it’s all ankle, all the time.
Tuesday, during Super Bowl media day, Freeney answered questions from reporters about the ankle, how he’s rehabbing the ankle, how the ankle feels in the morning and what he hopes will happen with the ankle. The last time people talked about a joint this much was during The Pineapple Express. Folks tried to make it about something other than Freeney’s ankle, to no avail. Chad OchoCrazy showed up with his own news network, which is kind of like the episode when the Three Stooges were doctors. Peyton Manning tried to make a joke, but his timing was off, and when the thing bombed, he blamed it on his little brother. The requisite collection of crazies, including a woman wearing a halo and a former American Midol contestant, was on hand, but nothing could top the biggest story: Will he or won’t he? Can he or can’t he? Is he or isn’t he?
The worst thing about the entire Freeney situation is that we won’t know a damn thing until he steps onto the field Sunday against the Saints. Until then, we will be subjected to an excruciating torrent of conjecture regarding how much Freeney will be able to play and what the Colts/Saints will do if he can’t go. Believe me; by the time kickoff comes around, the insanity surrounding the OchoCrazy News Network will seem like mother’s milk compared to the Freeney frenzy.
The big reason for the hysteria regarding one player’s cranky ankle is that the rest of the storylines surrounding the Super Bowl have created the same level of interest as Joe Biden’s daily schedule. Okay, okay, we get that this is a big deal for New Orleans. And that the healing from Hurricane Katrina’s devastation can continue only if every Big Easy resident is face down in a puddle of beer come Monday morning. We know that Peyton Manning is trying to cement his legacy, the better to continue his quest for domination of the advertising world. We’re cheering for Pierre Garcon and his Haitian friends and relatives to overcome the horrors of the earthquake, as if some poor guy who has lost everything in Port-au-Prince gives a rat’s backside about whether Garcon’s team wins the game.
But this is all well trod ground. About the only good stuff coming out of the run-up to the game are the comments by New Orleans defensive coordinator Gregg Williams about how his team wants to lay some “remember me” shots on Manning to make him less comfortable in the pocket. Not bad, but not enough. Where is the outrageous behavior? Where is Deion Sanders telling people that his new Lamborghini was a present from “myself to myself?” Where is Shannon Sharpe vs. Ray Buchanan, 2010 style? Why hasn’t President Obama sent one of the teams’ coaches a play he designed, as Nixon was rumored to have done before Super Bowl VII.
If the boredom generated by the pre-game run-up is any indication, we’re headed for an old-fashioned, yawner on Sunday. We’re talking Colts-Cowboys, 1971, Redskins-Dolphins, 1973 or Bucs-Raiders, 2003. Then again, perhaps the two explosive offenses are saving their pyrotechnics for the field, rather than filling up notebooks and tape recorders with inane pre-game comments. Let’s hope that’s the case, because the way this week is going is enough to make people want to watch HGTV. The only people who have it worse than the general public are the reporters who have to find something to talk or write about every day.
Fortunately, they have the old standby: Freeney’s ankle. When in doubt, talk about electronic stimulation or hyperbaric chambers, and you’ll be just fine.
Is it Sunday yet?
* * *
THE PICK: During the regular season and even the first couple rounds of the playoffs, the only wagers people care about involve the pointspread, the over/under and the money line. That’s it. The beauty of the Super Bowl is that everything is in play, from the game’s outcome to whether one of the kickers will mistake Snooki for a football and try to boot her through the uprights.
Here are this week’s picks:
Coin Flip: Heads
Times Referee Calls For a Measurement: Two
Number of Pete Townsend windmills at halftime: Seven
Oh, El Hombre almost forgot. Give the points in this one. We can talk about sympathy and heartstrings and Who Dat? but this is about the Colts’ ability to carve up a shaky Saints secondary (26th in the NFL vs. the pass). Yes, DWIGHT FREENEY’S ANKLE will be a factor, but the Indy defense will still create some trouble for the Saints’ attack. Peyton Manning gets his second Super Bowl, but please stop with the “greatest ever” talk. He still has some work to do in that department. Indianapolis 30, New Orleans 20.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Last week, the New Jersey Nets’ management enlisted a sports psychologist to help the woebegone team snap out of its historic funk. During his presentation, the hoops shrink jammed a needle into his cheek to demonstrate mental toughness. That runs counter to the actions of Nets fans, who have been sticking needles in their eyes all season…The onset of the Winter Olympics means the arrival in Vancouver of husky Russian biathlon competitors – and those are just the women – not to mention the anticipated pairs figure skating performance by fellow Russians Oksana Domnina and Maxim Shabalin, whose aboriginal routine sets new lows for international relations. (What’s next, a pair spoofing minstrel shows?) The big question facing the Games is whether anybody notices that the NHL will be shut down for two weeks.. Didn’t think so…College football signing day has come and gone, with the requisite “winners” and “losers,” not to mention the premature deification of a bunch of high schoolers. The big story, however, is that Lane Kiffin is still at USC and further that he has yet to say anything stupid, at least publicly…Break up the Twins! Buoyed by anticipated revenues from its new ballpark, Minnesota added Orlando Hudson to its lineup and is working on a megadeal for star catcher Joe Mauer. It’s amazing what a new ballpark will do for you, unless you’re Pittsburgh, of course…Kevin Durant’s recent scoring binge has been great to watch, but the best thing about the 6-9 Thunder star is that his name doesn’t lend itself to one of the lazy nicknames people confer on athletes. “K-Dur” just doesn’t cut it. Thankfully, “Durantula” does.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The fears that the Eagles hired Dick Jauron as a possible replacement for defensive coordinator Sean McDermott warrant some discussion, since McDermott wasn’t ready for the job when he took over (not his fault), and the Birds’ D did take a step back in 2009, although injuries and poor personnel decisions had more to do with the decay than McDermott’s inability to channel Jim Johnson. What is most worrisome about the move is that Andy Reid may have decided that the team’s secondary problems do not need to be fixed by talent upgrades, rather than having someone else “coach ‘em up.” Jauron certainly knows his stuff, having been a head coach, a defensive boss and a secondary tutor. But going into 2010 without another top-shelf safety and without doing something about Asante Samuel’s predilection for playing flag football would be a huge mistake, one that Jauron can’t fix by himself. McDermott should worry a little about the new arrival, but if Reid thinks the mere presence of an experience hand on the back line will overcome the ’09 problems, then Eagles fans will be the ones doing the real worrying.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: The pending announcement that the NC2A is planning to opt out of the final three years of its 11-season, $6 billion contract with CBS (don’t even think it won’t happen) is scary for fans of the only part of the college basketball season that really matters – the tournament. With the call for new bids will come a tacit understanding that the NC2A is wide open to an enlarging of the tourney, a move that would ruin what may be the most perfect thing in sports and the only thing the organization does well – besides screwing its student-athletes. Greed, of course, will win out, since an expanded tourney (up to as many as 96 teams) would bring a bigger annual payday, even in this shaky climate. There are reports that CBS will partner with Turner to counter espn’s multi-platform bid and put more games on the air. Or, it could mean more weight behind a pay-per-view scenario. No one will get an argument on expansion from coaches, who want more teams in so that more coaches can protect their jobs. The real losers are the fans and the tournament itself, which has grown organically over the years and has done just well in its current form for 25 years. (Okay, so they added an extra game in ’01.) Bringing in 31 more at-large teams will dilute the tourney beyond recognition. Last year, there were maybe three or four other teams that had legitimate beefs about being excluded. And by adding another 15 games in an “opening round” format, the tourney will lose many of the mid-major and small conference teams that have made the first two rounds of the tourney so compelling over the years. Ask yourself what’s more exciting, the thought of Robert Morris’ upsetting Clemson or Seton Hall’s doing it. It’s a pretty easy question to answer. And if the expansion comes, it’s likely that plenty of the Robert Morrises of the NC2A world will be eliminated before they can take on the giants. In the end, greed will win, and the NC2A will learn eventually that it ruined a perfect thing.
-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 22, 2010
Time to Win? Time to Defend
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
Because Cowboy Quarterback is slapping backsides and just plain having a great time playing the game again, be prepared to be overwhelmed the next couple days (as if we’re not buried under already) with fawning accounts of how a 40-year old’s success in a young man’s game is a truly remarkable thing and that this weekend’s conference title games revolve around the continuing drama of Brett Favre’s quest to be a champion once more.
Please wait a moment while El Hombre wipes the vomit from his chin.
Favre’s play this year has been excellent, especially after his 2008 late-season meltdown in New York, which conspiracy theorists could hypothesize was a purposeful attempt to be freed from Gotham in order to be courted by the Vikings. Favre is healthy and surrounded by some pretty impressive talent in Minnesota, even if Adrian Peterson’s rushing average is shrinking faster than a banker’s credibility. His ability to rein in that wild hair that has so often caused him to think he can fit the football into microscopic areas has meant a lot to the Vikings. And should he lead Minnesota past New Orleans this Sunday in the NFC title game, the mind boggles at the two weeks of sycophantic love letters the media will toss Favre’s way in the run-up to the Super Bowl. It’s possible espN’s Rachel Nichols will be reduced to reporting on Number Four’s teeth-brushing habits (“Floss first, then circular rotations with the brush, followed by substantial gum stimulation”) as game time approaches.
As well as Favre has played, and as impressive as the other QBs – Drew Brees, Peyton Manning, Mark Sanchez – have been in leading their teams to the Final Four, each squad has achieved its success primarily because of defense and (with the exception of Indianapolis) the ground game. The NFL is a passing league, and this year more QBs have attempted at least 500 passes than ever before. More have thrown for at least 4,000 yards. And a record amount completed 65% of their passes. And yet, when the winning must be accomplished, the big, nasty people get it done.
In their win over Arizona, the Saints rushed for 171 yards and forced two turnovers. They held the mighty Cardinal attack to just 14 points and just about knocked Kurt Warner into retirement. For a minute, it appeared as if the game was going feature more scoring than a Tiger Woods golf weekend, but after Bobby McCray pole-axed Warner, it turned into a one-sided affair. Later that night, the Colts held Baltimore to 270 total yards, pounced on four Raven gaffes and limited them to a mere 12 first downs. Indy didn’t run it, but then again, with Manning under center you don’t worry about that. One interesting thing about the game was that there has been precious little national outcry about the final seconds of the first half, when the clock operator ran off just two seconds on a Manning pass, allowing the Colts to run another play, instead of going for a field goal before intermission. The resulting TD made it 17-3 and effectively ended the game. Baltimore coach John Harbaugh went bats about the slow clock, but nobody did anything about it, and CBS did not show a replay with a real-time clock on the screen. Hmmm. It couldn’t be that the network didn’t want to expose a crucial gaffe – if a more reasonable four seconds had run off the clock, Indy probably would have tried a field goal with 0:05 to go, instead of going for the TD with 0:07 left – and embarrass the NFL, could it? That might not help things during the next TV contract negotiations.
The next afternoon, Minnesota rushed for 109 yards, held Dallas to a total of 248 and sacked besieged Tony Romo six times, to gain a measure of revenge from the 1975 Drew Pearson push-off game at venerable Metropolitan Stadium. Capping off the Cowgirls’ pathetic performance was Keith Brookings’ crybaby performance. The veteran linebacker screamed at the Viking bench after Minnesota’s final touchdown, a three-yard Favre pass, with less than 2:00 remaining. Were the game played between two junior-high teams, Brookings would have had a gripe about the Vikes’ running it up. Since it was contested between highly paid professionals, Brookings needed to keep his mouth shut and lick his wounds. Capping off the weekend, New York rushed for 169 yards, forced two turnovers and limited San Diego to 4-of-13 success on third down in its upset win. Afterward, Chargers coach Norv Turner reminded everybody of how many games his team has won in December – and nobody cared.
Notice a pattern here? All four of the teams were stingy. They suffocated the opposition and made it easier for the offense to do its job. That’s how you win in the post-season, not with fun and fancy aerial attacks and visionary offensive coordinators. Hunker down and smash some heads. That’s playoff football.
Favre may get all the glory if Minnesota gets to Miami, but he would be smart to direct the flattery toward the angry, oversized men on the other side of the ball. After all, he has to practice against them.
Now a few words about last week: It didn’t happen.
You may not have much faith in El Hombre’s predicting abilities about now, but that’s when you’ll find him to be the most dangerous – in a good way.
Indianapolis (minus 7 ½) over New York. EH was wrong about the Jets. Real wrong. Coach Rex Ryan’s team has been outstanding in the playoffs, displaying a tremendous ground attack and rugged D. Well, you can’t be one-dimensional at this level, and Sanchez isn’t ready to make big plays against the quick Colts defense. Meanwhile, nobody is better at sniffing out crazy blitz schemes than Manning. Colts 23, Jets 13.
Minnesota (plus 3 ½) over New Orleans. When Romo drops back to pass in the Cowboys’ first mini-camp of the coming spring, he’s going to expect a purple-clad defender to be charging at him. The Viking pass rush is relentless, and that’s going to force Brees to keep some extra people in for protection. That’s not good. Meanwhile, Favre, Adrian Peterson and wideout Sidney Rice will find plenty of holes in the Saints defense. Minnesota 27, New Orleans 23.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: By now, many of you have heard about the knuckle-dragger down in Georgia who wants to start a whites-only professional basketball league down South. (Surprise!) Can’t wait to see the wide-wail corduroy warm-up pants. And nothing says basketball excitement than an “alley” without the “oop.” How about those cheerleaders in turtlenecks, monogrammed sweaters and tartan-print skirts? Sexy! The WBL (Whitey Basketball League) – it’s Bland-tastic!...Let’s hear it for Boston College linebacker Mark Herzlich, who is back practicing with his teammates after a bout with Ewing’s Sarcoma, a rare cancer that usually hits young adults. Herzlich is cancer-free and ready to play in 2010. Let’s hope the only obstacles he faces from here on out are angry blockers…You have to love NASCAR. Ratings sag and attendance drops, and how does the left-turn set react? By loosening safety restrictions and encouraging drivers to bump and bang each other around the oval. Genius. What’s next, rules that allow drivers to pack heat? Forget El Hombre suggested that. It’s just the kind of idea that might catch on with that group…The ejection of 11 disorderly Croats from an Australian Open match this week has shined the light on tennis hooligans. Could there be a crazier juxtaposition? What’s next, riots at curling matches? Unruly patrons at dressage competitions? And they say Philadelphia fans are tough.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? On the surface, the Phillies’ decision to lock up Joe Blanton for three years is a good one, because it gives them four starters – Blanton, Roy Halladay, Cole Hamels, J.A. Happ – on the books through the 2012 season. And since Blanton has thrown more than 1,000 innings over the past five seasons, his presence in the lineup almost guarantees 200 IP each season, not bad for a third or fourth starter. But the question we need to ask is whether three seasons of Heavy B trump one year of Cliff Lee. In essence, that’s the deal the Phils have struck by telling us they couldn’t afford $9 to Lee this year but they could pay Blanton $24 mil (7, 8.5, 8.5) over the next three. This appears to be the hallmark of a team that is trying to maintain its perch as a contender without going for the brass ring. If Hamels does not rebound to ’08 levels this year, and Blanton’s arm betrays him from overuse, 2010 could be a mess for the Phils, particularly if the expected troubles at the number five spot in the rotation – neither Pop-Pop Moyer nor Kyle Kendrick inspires – arise. Pairing Lee with Halladay in the rotation this year, even if it meant cutting loose Blanton, would create a dynamic pairing atop the rotation that no other team could match. Instead of doing that, the Phillies are trying to protect their backsides with Blanton’s solid but hardly spectacular work, a sophomore (Happ) who could fall apart easily now that hitters know him, and the mystery that is Hamels. If the staff doesn’t come around as the Phils hope, that lineup had better be ready to score seven a night – and then some.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Tiger Woods’ arrival at a sex-addiction clinic was as predictable as ridiculously low scores at this weekend’s Bob Hope Classic. If you follow the textbook definition of an addiction – risk-taking, willingness to give up your family, career and reputation to feed it – Woods definitely has a problem, as his smaller checkbook, fleeing sponsors and disappearing wife and kids prove. But it’s hard not to see his checking in (allegedly) to the treatment center as the first step in a calculated move back to playing again. One would imagine a sniffling appearance on Oprah will follow, with interviews by handpicked espn and 60 Minutes correspondents on the menu as well. A tightly regulated press conference comes next and finally a return to the links. If Woods has a problem, let’s hope he can be helped. But if he’s just going through some P.R. plan to generate sympathy from the media and fans, then shame on him. Again.
-EH-
Because Cowboy Quarterback is slapping backsides and just plain having a great time playing the game again, be prepared to be overwhelmed the next couple days (as if we’re not buried under already) with fawning accounts of how a 40-year old’s success in a young man’s game is a truly remarkable thing and that this weekend’s conference title games revolve around the continuing drama of Brett Favre’s quest to be a champion once more.
Please wait a moment while El Hombre wipes the vomit from his chin.
Favre’s play this year has been excellent, especially after his 2008 late-season meltdown in New York, which conspiracy theorists could hypothesize was a purposeful attempt to be freed from Gotham in order to be courted by the Vikings. Favre is healthy and surrounded by some pretty impressive talent in Minnesota, even if Adrian Peterson’s rushing average is shrinking faster than a banker’s credibility. His ability to rein in that wild hair that has so often caused him to think he can fit the football into microscopic areas has meant a lot to the Vikings. And should he lead Minnesota past New Orleans this Sunday in the NFC title game, the mind boggles at the two weeks of sycophantic love letters the media will toss Favre’s way in the run-up to the Super Bowl. It’s possible espN’s Rachel Nichols will be reduced to reporting on Number Four’s teeth-brushing habits (“Floss first, then circular rotations with the brush, followed by substantial gum stimulation”) as game time approaches.
As well as Favre has played, and as impressive as the other QBs – Drew Brees, Peyton Manning, Mark Sanchez – have been in leading their teams to the Final Four, each squad has achieved its success primarily because of defense and (with the exception of Indianapolis) the ground game. The NFL is a passing league, and this year more QBs have attempted at least 500 passes than ever before. More have thrown for at least 4,000 yards. And a record amount completed 65% of their passes. And yet, when the winning must be accomplished, the big, nasty people get it done.
In their win over Arizona, the Saints rushed for 171 yards and forced two turnovers. They held the mighty Cardinal attack to just 14 points and just about knocked Kurt Warner into retirement. For a minute, it appeared as if the game was going feature more scoring than a Tiger Woods golf weekend, but after Bobby McCray pole-axed Warner, it turned into a one-sided affair. Later that night, the Colts held Baltimore to 270 total yards, pounced on four Raven gaffes and limited them to a mere 12 first downs. Indy didn’t run it, but then again, with Manning under center you don’t worry about that. One interesting thing about the game was that there has been precious little national outcry about the final seconds of the first half, when the clock operator ran off just two seconds on a Manning pass, allowing the Colts to run another play, instead of going for a field goal before intermission. The resulting TD made it 17-3 and effectively ended the game. Baltimore coach John Harbaugh went bats about the slow clock, but nobody did anything about it, and CBS did not show a replay with a real-time clock on the screen. Hmmm. It couldn’t be that the network didn’t want to expose a crucial gaffe – if a more reasonable four seconds had run off the clock, Indy probably would have tried a field goal with 0:05 to go, instead of going for the TD with 0:07 left – and embarrass the NFL, could it? That might not help things during the next TV contract negotiations.
The next afternoon, Minnesota rushed for 109 yards, held Dallas to a total of 248 and sacked besieged Tony Romo six times, to gain a measure of revenge from the 1975 Drew Pearson push-off game at venerable Metropolitan Stadium. Capping off the Cowgirls’ pathetic performance was Keith Brookings’ crybaby performance. The veteran linebacker screamed at the Viking bench after Minnesota’s final touchdown, a three-yard Favre pass, with less than 2:00 remaining. Were the game played between two junior-high teams, Brookings would have had a gripe about the Vikes’ running it up. Since it was contested between highly paid professionals, Brookings needed to keep his mouth shut and lick his wounds. Capping off the weekend, New York rushed for 169 yards, forced two turnovers and limited San Diego to 4-of-13 success on third down in its upset win. Afterward, Chargers coach Norv Turner reminded everybody of how many games his team has won in December – and nobody cared.
Notice a pattern here? All four of the teams were stingy. They suffocated the opposition and made it easier for the offense to do its job. That’s how you win in the post-season, not with fun and fancy aerial attacks and visionary offensive coordinators. Hunker down and smash some heads. That’s playoff football.
Favre may get all the glory if Minnesota gets to Miami, but he would be smart to direct the flattery toward the angry, oversized men on the other side of the ball. After all, he has to practice against them.
Now a few words about last week: It didn’t happen.
You may not have much faith in El Hombre’s predicting abilities about now, but that’s when you’ll find him to be the most dangerous – in a good way.
Indianapolis (minus 7 ½) over New York. EH was wrong about the Jets. Real wrong. Coach Rex Ryan’s team has been outstanding in the playoffs, displaying a tremendous ground attack and rugged D. Well, you can’t be one-dimensional at this level, and Sanchez isn’t ready to make big plays against the quick Colts defense. Meanwhile, nobody is better at sniffing out crazy blitz schemes than Manning. Colts 23, Jets 13.
Minnesota (plus 3 ½) over New Orleans. When Romo drops back to pass in the Cowboys’ first mini-camp of the coming spring, he’s going to expect a purple-clad defender to be charging at him. The Viking pass rush is relentless, and that’s going to force Brees to keep some extra people in for protection. That’s not good. Meanwhile, Favre, Adrian Peterson and wideout Sidney Rice will find plenty of holes in the Saints defense. Minnesota 27, New Orleans 23.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: By now, many of you have heard about the knuckle-dragger down in Georgia who wants to start a whites-only professional basketball league down South. (Surprise!) Can’t wait to see the wide-wail corduroy warm-up pants. And nothing says basketball excitement than an “alley” without the “oop.” How about those cheerleaders in turtlenecks, monogrammed sweaters and tartan-print skirts? Sexy! The WBL (Whitey Basketball League) – it’s Bland-tastic!...Let’s hear it for Boston College linebacker Mark Herzlich, who is back practicing with his teammates after a bout with Ewing’s Sarcoma, a rare cancer that usually hits young adults. Herzlich is cancer-free and ready to play in 2010. Let’s hope the only obstacles he faces from here on out are angry blockers…You have to love NASCAR. Ratings sag and attendance drops, and how does the left-turn set react? By loosening safety restrictions and encouraging drivers to bump and bang each other around the oval. Genius. What’s next, rules that allow drivers to pack heat? Forget El Hombre suggested that. It’s just the kind of idea that might catch on with that group…The ejection of 11 disorderly Croats from an Australian Open match this week has shined the light on tennis hooligans. Could there be a crazier juxtaposition? What’s next, riots at curling matches? Unruly patrons at dressage competitions? And they say Philadelphia fans are tough.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? On the surface, the Phillies’ decision to lock up Joe Blanton for three years is a good one, because it gives them four starters – Blanton, Roy Halladay, Cole Hamels, J.A. Happ – on the books through the 2012 season. And since Blanton has thrown more than 1,000 innings over the past five seasons, his presence in the lineup almost guarantees 200 IP each season, not bad for a third or fourth starter. But the question we need to ask is whether three seasons of Heavy B trump one year of Cliff Lee. In essence, that’s the deal the Phils have struck by telling us they couldn’t afford $9 to Lee this year but they could pay Blanton $24 mil (7, 8.5, 8.5) over the next three. This appears to be the hallmark of a team that is trying to maintain its perch as a contender without going for the brass ring. If Hamels does not rebound to ’08 levels this year, and Blanton’s arm betrays him from overuse, 2010 could be a mess for the Phils, particularly if the expected troubles at the number five spot in the rotation – neither Pop-Pop Moyer nor Kyle Kendrick inspires – arise. Pairing Lee with Halladay in the rotation this year, even if it meant cutting loose Blanton, would create a dynamic pairing atop the rotation that no other team could match. Instead of doing that, the Phillies are trying to protect their backsides with Blanton’s solid but hardly spectacular work, a sophomore (Happ) who could fall apart easily now that hitters know him, and the mystery that is Hamels. If the staff doesn’t come around as the Phils hope, that lineup had better be ready to score seven a night – and then some.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Tiger Woods’ arrival at a sex-addiction clinic was as predictable as ridiculously low scores at this weekend’s Bob Hope Classic. If you follow the textbook definition of an addiction – risk-taking, willingness to give up your family, career and reputation to feed it – Woods definitely has a problem, as his smaller checkbook, fleeing sponsors and disappearing wife and kids prove. But it’s hard not to see his checking in (allegedly) to the treatment center as the first step in a calculated move back to playing again. One would imagine a sniffling appearance on Oprah will follow, with interviews by handpicked espn and 60 Minutes correspondents on the menu as well. A tightly regulated press conference comes next and finally a return to the links. If Woods has a problem, let’s hope he can be helped. But if he’s just going through some P.R. plan to generate sympathy from the media and fans, then shame on him. Again.
-EH-
Friday, January 15, 2010
There's No Crying In Baseball, Mark
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
The big winner in Mark McGwire’s recent media tour in support of his new contrition over a decade of steroid use is Kleenex, because every time he speaks these days, the tears tend to flow. If we didn’t know Big Mac had hired former Bush press secretary Ari Fleisher to be his Big Flak, one would think he had stolen a page from the Dick Vermeil Drama Handbook. McGwire has produced so much saline solution in the past couple days, officials in Kazakhstan have proposed using him to help replenish the shrinking Aral Sea.
Give McGwire credit for one thing: Unlike other members of baseball’s Shameless Generation, he at least admitted to using the stuff more than once or twice (Andy Pettitte) or accidentally (Balco Bonds). There was no talk of flaxseed oil or B-12 shots. No irresponsible dentists or “personal health issues.” McGwire juiced, and he admits it. For that, he deserves a gold star.
But like his fellow drug cheats, McGwire qualifies his apology, and that’s where all the goodwill begins to stagnate like spilled can of Blatz souring in the searing summer sun. He claims his 10 years of abuse were not designed to improve his play, even though the label on the box he got at Steroids R Us clearly stated that the product was a “performance enhancing drug.” Nope, McGwire was merely using the stuff (for some reason, he can’t remember the name of the substance, despite a decade of use) to stay healthy and remain in the lineup. Everything else came straight off the shelves at God, Inc.
The technical term for this type of elusive behavior is “steaming pile of crap,” but to a layman, McGwire is simply rationalizing his actions and trying to get us to buy into the sham. Forget that his home runs per at-bat dropped from 14.0 to 8.4 during his peaking juicing – a 40% decrease. Forget that he wouldn’t have come near his final total of 583 dingers without the drugs. And forget that it was ultimately the steroids that ended his career by contributing to classic P.E.D. injuries in his back and knees. (Parents, feel free to use this last one with the kids as a textbook definition of irony. Or, you can stick with the Tiger-Woods-getting-smacked-by-a-golf-club example.)
McGwire juiced to hit more home runs. To hit longer home runs. They may have helped him stay healthy, but their primary result was to allow him to craft a mammoth, sculpted frame with more power, speed and endurance. He sure could hit the ball before the juice, but he hit it further, more frequently and with more jaw-dropping majesty once he started abusing drugs. The resulting 135 taters in 1998-99 were to be his ticket to immortality. Now, they are black marks in a baseball record book that has less and less credibility and the smoking guns in a career that was a product of cheating.
By copping to steroid use, McGwire is hoping to ease his return to the game as a hitting coach for the Cardinals. That will probably work, especially since Cards’ manager Tony LaRussa is leading the cheers for his return – and erasing any last bits of credibility he has by claiming he knew nothing about McGwire’s steroid abuse until the slugger called him earlier this week to confess. That makes LaRussa the only person in America who didn’t act like Captain Renault upon hearing McGwire’s “revelation.” But let’s hope those who vote for the Hall of Fame aren’t snowed by the well-crafted act of contrition, no matter how much the slugger paid for it. McGwire’s success is directly related to continued, deliberate steroid use. He wouldn’t have thrived as he did without the drugs, so his candidacy for immortality should not even be considered. He said he was sorry, and that’s a good step. He also said he wished he had never played in the “Steroid Era.” Maybe he should have thought of that before he started sticking needles in his butt – or having Jose Canseco do it for him.
Speaking of Canseco, is anybody ever going to get tired of seeing the guy proven right? So far, he’s like Rocky Marciano – undefeated and untied. The guy is a bit of a crackpot (okay, he’s a big crackpot), but he has been right on about steroids. It’s a wonder baseball invertebrate Bud Sellout hasn’t put a contract out on the guy yet. The baseball that conked Canseco on the head before flying out of the park may have knocked him a little loopy, but he speaks the truth about the juice, and if he says he and McGwire had a little needle party in the clubhouse shower, then it happened. Period.
Canseco isn’t trying to get a job in Majoke League Baseball. He has no shot at the Hall of Fame, either. McGwire, on the other hand, has one and wants the other. His well-rehearsed apology might keep him in a Cardinals uniform, but in no way should it punch his ticket to Cooperstown. He didn’t tell the complete truth, and even if he did, the fact that he used steroids for a decade should serve as a ringing indictment against his candidacy. Let’s hope the Hall of Fame voters don’t soften up like the audience at a romantic comedy and admit McGwire to baseball’s Valhalla. Be vigilant, folks, and realize a cheat and manipulator when you see one.
Oh, and someone get McGwire a tissue. It looks like he’s crying. Again.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Giants Stadium is being sold, piece-by-piece. Fans can buy seats, turf and locker room items. No word on how much Jimmy Hoffa will cost…New England has cut ties with defensive coordinator Dean Pees, bringing his career with the Pats to a close and rendering unemployed the only NFL coach whose name is a full sentence…NBC is planning 835 hours of Olympics coverage, with only 820 of those devoted to figure skating. Talk about a classic case of biathlonism…With the NBA trading deadline looming next month, the rumor mill has started its annual churn. The most interesting name being mentioned is Tracy McGrady, the oft-injured, highly overrated Houston forward who has never won a playoff series. The best part of dealing for Me-Mac is that his bloated contract (about $21 mil) expires after this season, so it will be possible to chase some of the top free agents in this summer’s robust class. Talk about a big fall from grace. Once considered a star, Me-Mac is only coveted for his expiring contract. A cautionary tale? Nahhh. Today’s money-grubbing players don’t care, so long as they get paid.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Now that the Eagles’ season is over, the frustrated fans (you mean there are some who aren’t frustrated?) are looking for scapegoats. Instead of realizing the team just wasn’t good enough (crappy O-line, insufficient edge pass rushing, weak LBs, poor safeties) to beat Dallas, the fans’ consensus is that Donovan McNabb is responsible. He did not play well against Dallas either time in January; that’s for sure. Is he the main problem on the team? Not by a long shot. That title goes to GM Andy Reid. (As opposed to coach Andy Reid.) So, let’s get rid of him. Really. Eagles fans are so ready to have Kevin Kolb under center, so deal McNabb. The team will be doing him a favor. Ever since the blowhard from Rhode Island – via Columbia and the beach block in Sea Isle – brought a bunch of sots to New York to boo McNabb, the town has been against him. So, set him free, play Kolb and bask in the glory of 8-8 and 7-9 records. But, hey, at least there will be a change. And that’s what Eagles fans crave. Meanwhile, let’s see what McNabb can do with a legitimate commitment to the run and a good defense. The guess here is that it will be plenty.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Now for a quick word on Pete Carroll and Lane Kiffin. It’s time to stop lionizing these big-time coaches as builders of character and great molders of men. They are self-absorbed competition freaks who care about their careers first. (Second and third, too.) Any player who signs on to play for one of them had better be smart enough to understand that his best interests are nowhere near the top of these coaches’ lists of priorities. Kiffin’s decision to bolt Tennessee after one season reveals his true character. How long until he leaves Troy? If he tried to convince UT conscripts to follow him to SoCal, he should be penalized harshly by the NC2A. As for Carroll, he rebuffed one NFL entreaty after another before finally settling on Seattle. Hmmmm. That couldn’t have anything to do with the pending NC2A investigation into improper benefits received by former Trojan players, could it? Nahhh. Pete just wanted to get some good coffee and experience 275 days of rain every year. Right. One thing is certain: Kiffin certainly learned well during his time under Carroll. If you can root for ‘SC or the Seahawks, you have a strong stomach.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Now for the picks. The “good” news is that El Hombre went 2-2 against the spread (thank you, Ravens and Cowboys) last week. The ugliness comes from the 1-3 money-line performance. It’s time to get healthy.
SATURDAY:
Arizona (plus 7) over New Orleans: The Old Man has it cooking like he did back in the Arena Football League days, and the Cards don’t seem to mind how many points the other team scores. The Saints stumbled home during the regular season but should outscore the Cards in a thriller. New Orleans 41, Arizona 38.
Baltimore (plus 6 ½) over Indianapolis. The Ravens looked great pillaging the crippled Pats last week, but Indy is another story. Baltimore QB Joe Flacco isn’t playing well enough to hold up his end on offense, and MVP Peyton Manning is rested and ready to work his magic. It will be close, but Indy breaks its streak of losing playoff openers after bye weeks. Indianapolis 20, Baltimore 16.
SUNDAY:
Dallas (plus 3) over Minnesota. I don’t care if Brett Favre is undefeated in the Big Mall this season, because Dallas is the NFC’s best team. After an afternoon of Cowboy pressure, Favre might just throw a punch at coach Brad Childress. Expect this year’s teary-eyed retirement press conference on Tuesday. Dallas 24, Minnesota 17.
San Diego (minus 7 ½) over New York. Okay, so El Hombre was wrong about the Jets last week, although it would have been nice if Cincinnati had shown just a little guts before lying down. But the Jets won’t make it two straight, not against the NFL’s hottest team. Phillip Rivers takes another step toward elite status with a convincing performance. San Diego 23, New York 10.
-EH-
The big winner in Mark McGwire’s recent media tour in support of his new contrition over a decade of steroid use is Kleenex, because every time he speaks these days, the tears tend to flow. If we didn’t know Big Mac had hired former Bush press secretary Ari Fleisher to be his Big Flak, one would think he had stolen a page from the Dick Vermeil Drama Handbook. McGwire has produced so much saline solution in the past couple days, officials in Kazakhstan have proposed using him to help replenish the shrinking Aral Sea.
Give McGwire credit for one thing: Unlike other members of baseball’s Shameless Generation, he at least admitted to using the stuff more than once or twice (Andy Pettitte) or accidentally (Balco Bonds). There was no talk of flaxseed oil or B-12 shots. No irresponsible dentists or “personal health issues.” McGwire juiced, and he admits it. For that, he deserves a gold star.
But like his fellow drug cheats, McGwire qualifies his apology, and that’s where all the goodwill begins to stagnate like spilled can of Blatz souring in the searing summer sun. He claims his 10 years of abuse were not designed to improve his play, even though the label on the box he got at Steroids R Us clearly stated that the product was a “performance enhancing drug.” Nope, McGwire was merely using the stuff (for some reason, he can’t remember the name of the substance, despite a decade of use) to stay healthy and remain in the lineup. Everything else came straight off the shelves at God, Inc.
The technical term for this type of elusive behavior is “steaming pile of crap,” but to a layman, McGwire is simply rationalizing his actions and trying to get us to buy into the sham. Forget that his home runs per at-bat dropped from 14.0 to 8.4 during his peaking juicing – a 40% decrease. Forget that he wouldn’t have come near his final total of 583 dingers without the drugs. And forget that it was ultimately the steroids that ended his career by contributing to classic P.E.D. injuries in his back and knees. (Parents, feel free to use this last one with the kids as a textbook definition of irony. Or, you can stick with the Tiger-Woods-getting-smacked-by-a-golf-club example.)
McGwire juiced to hit more home runs. To hit longer home runs. They may have helped him stay healthy, but their primary result was to allow him to craft a mammoth, sculpted frame with more power, speed and endurance. He sure could hit the ball before the juice, but he hit it further, more frequently and with more jaw-dropping majesty once he started abusing drugs. The resulting 135 taters in 1998-99 were to be his ticket to immortality. Now, they are black marks in a baseball record book that has less and less credibility and the smoking guns in a career that was a product of cheating.
By copping to steroid use, McGwire is hoping to ease his return to the game as a hitting coach for the Cardinals. That will probably work, especially since Cards’ manager Tony LaRussa is leading the cheers for his return – and erasing any last bits of credibility he has by claiming he knew nothing about McGwire’s steroid abuse until the slugger called him earlier this week to confess. That makes LaRussa the only person in America who didn’t act like Captain Renault upon hearing McGwire’s “revelation.” But let’s hope those who vote for the Hall of Fame aren’t snowed by the well-crafted act of contrition, no matter how much the slugger paid for it. McGwire’s success is directly related to continued, deliberate steroid use. He wouldn’t have thrived as he did without the drugs, so his candidacy for immortality should not even be considered. He said he was sorry, and that’s a good step. He also said he wished he had never played in the “Steroid Era.” Maybe he should have thought of that before he started sticking needles in his butt – or having Jose Canseco do it for him.
Speaking of Canseco, is anybody ever going to get tired of seeing the guy proven right? So far, he’s like Rocky Marciano – undefeated and untied. The guy is a bit of a crackpot (okay, he’s a big crackpot), but he has been right on about steroids. It’s a wonder baseball invertebrate Bud Sellout hasn’t put a contract out on the guy yet. The baseball that conked Canseco on the head before flying out of the park may have knocked him a little loopy, but he speaks the truth about the juice, and if he says he and McGwire had a little needle party in the clubhouse shower, then it happened. Period.
Canseco isn’t trying to get a job in Majoke League Baseball. He has no shot at the Hall of Fame, either. McGwire, on the other hand, has one and wants the other. His well-rehearsed apology might keep him in a Cardinals uniform, but in no way should it punch his ticket to Cooperstown. He didn’t tell the complete truth, and even if he did, the fact that he used steroids for a decade should serve as a ringing indictment against his candidacy. Let’s hope the Hall of Fame voters don’t soften up like the audience at a romantic comedy and admit McGwire to baseball’s Valhalla. Be vigilant, folks, and realize a cheat and manipulator when you see one.
Oh, and someone get McGwire a tissue. It looks like he’s crying. Again.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: Giants Stadium is being sold, piece-by-piece. Fans can buy seats, turf and locker room items. No word on how much Jimmy Hoffa will cost…New England has cut ties with defensive coordinator Dean Pees, bringing his career with the Pats to a close and rendering unemployed the only NFL coach whose name is a full sentence…NBC is planning 835 hours of Olympics coverage, with only 820 of those devoted to figure skating. Talk about a classic case of biathlonism…With the NBA trading deadline looming next month, the rumor mill has started its annual churn. The most interesting name being mentioned is Tracy McGrady, the oft-injured, highly overrated Houston forward who has never won a playoff series. The best part of dealing for Me-Mac is that his bloated contract (about $21 mil) expires after this season, so it will be possible to chase some of the top free agents in this summer’s robust class. Talk about a big fall from grace. Once considered a star, Me-Mac is only coveted for his expiring contract. A cautionary tale? Nahhh. Today’s money-grubbing players don’t care, so long as they get paid.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT: Now that the Eagles’ season is over, the frustrated fans (you mean there are some who aren’t frustrated?) are looking for scapegoats. Instead of realizing the team just wasn’t good enough (crappy O-line, insufficient edge pass rushing, weak LBs, poor safeties) to beat Dallas, the fans’ consensus is that Donovan McNabb is responsible. He did not play well against Dallas either time in January; that’s for sure. Is he the main problem on the team? Not by a long shot. That title goes to GM Andy Reid. (As opposed to coach Andy Reid.) So, let’s get rid of him. Really. Eagles fans are so ready to have Kevin Kolb under center, so deal McNabb. The team will be doing him a favor. Ever since the blowhard from Rhode Island – via Columbia and the beach block in Sea Isle – brought a bunch of sots to New York to boo McNabb, the town has been against him. So, set him free, play Kolb and bask in the glory of 8-8 and 7-9 records. But, hey, at least there will be a change. And that’s what Eagles fans crave. Meanwhile, let’s see what McNabb can do with a legitimate commitment to the run and a good defense. The guess here is that it will be plenty.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Now for a quick word on Pete Carroll and Lane Kiffin. It’s time to stop lionizing these big-time coaches as builders of character and great molders of men. They are self-absorbed competition freaks who care about their careers first. (Second and third, too.) Any player who signs on to play for one of them had better be smart enough to understand that his best interests are nowhere near the top of these coaches’ lists of priorities. Kiffin’s decision to bolt Tennessee after one season reveals his true character. How long until he leaves Troy? If he tried to convince UT conscripts to follow him to SoCal, he should be penalized harshly by the NC2A. As for Carroll, he rebuffed one NFL entreaty after another before finally settling on Seattle. Hmmmm. That couldn’t have anything to do with the pending NC2A investigation into improper benefits received by former Trojan players, could it? Nahhh. Pete just wanted to get some good coffee and experience 275 days of rain every year. Right. One thing is certain: Kiffin certainly learned well during his time under Carroll. If you can root for ‘SC or the Seahawks, you have a strong stomach.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: Now for the picks. The “good” news is that El Hombre went 2-2 against the spread (thank you, Ravens and Cowboys) last week. The ugliness comes from the 1-3 money-line performance. It’s time to get healthy.
SATURDAY:
Arizona (plus 7) over New Orleans: The Old Man has it cooking like he did back in the Arena Football League days, and the Cards don’t seem to mind how many points the other team scores. The Saints stumbled home during the regular season but should outscore the Cards in a thriller. New Orleans 41, Arizona 38.
Baltimore (plus 6 ½) over Indianapolis. The Ravens looked great pillaging the crippled Pats last week, but Indy is another story. Baltimore QB Joe Flacco isn’t playing well enough to hold up his end on offense, and MVP Peyton Manning is rested and ready to work his magic. It will be close, but Indy breaks its streak of losing playoff openers after bye weeks. Indianapolis 20, Baltimore 16.
SUNDAY:
Dallas (plus 3) over Minnesota. I don’t care if Brett Favre is undefeated in the Big Mall this season, because Dallas is the NFC’s best team. After an afternoon of Cowboy pressure, Favre might just throw a punch at coach Brad Childress. Expect this year’s teary-eyed retirement press conference on Tuesday. Dallas 24, Minnesota 17.
San Diego (minus 7 ½) over New York. Okay, so El Hombre was wrong about the Jets last week, although it would have been nice if Cincinnati had shown just a little guts before lying down. But the Jets won’t make it two straight, not against the NFL’s hottest team. Phillip Rivers takes another step toward elite status with a convincing performance. San Diego 23, New York 10.
-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, December 11, 2009
The Right Choice
EL HOMBRE KNOWS SPORTS
When El Abuelo went to his first and only bullfight, he rooted for the bull, not only because the poor animal was clearly a double-digit underdog, but because it was the right thing to do. The rest of the stadium was pulling for the torero, hoping to see a precise kill. But not El Abuelo. He was impressed by el toro’s power and dignity. And of course, he was disappointed. The bull went down like the victim of a mob hit. It was bloody, ruthless and stunningly final.
It may be hard to believe, given his steel-encased 6-foot, 4-inch, 300-pound frame, but Ndamukong Suh is the bull in the Heisman Trophy race, both metaphorically and in a literal sense. Watching him terrorize those old boys from Texas – not to mention anyone else unlucky enough to have lined up across from him the past two seasons – was like seeing Mark Mangino tear though the Sizzler buffet. Oh, the humanity. In a year when no traditional (read: Offensive) candidate stood out in the Heisman sweepstakes, discerning voters had the opportunity to take a good look at the player who best fit the mandate found on every ballot: “We are truly grateful for your support in selecting the most outstanding college football player in the United States (El Hombre’s italics) for 2009.”
That would be Suh, no question about it. The other finalists had great years, to be sure, but “most outstanding” status belongs to those who truly distinguish themselves as performing well above the usual. That’s the trouble with awards these days. They often go to the person who has the best press agent or the loudest TV foof blithering about his greatness. At this point, we have heard so much about the majesty of Tim Tebow that it’s a wonder he hasn’t been beatified, with only a couple miracles – one of them could be a card trick – standing between him and sainthood. (Word is Sixers GM Billy King prays daily to Tebow to get another job, and should an NBA team hire him, that will definitely qualify as the QB’s first miracle.) What is conveniently omitted from the Tebow mythology is that he hasn’t had a dominant season. His numbers (2,413 yards passing, 18 TDs, five ints., 859 yards rushing, 13 TDs) are impressive but not dominant. Tebow didn’t overwhelm people they way he did in ’07, when he won the Heisman by accounting for a knee-buckling 55 touchdowns (23 rushing, 32 passing). He was great and led the Gators to a perfect regular season, but he wasn’t the most outstanding player out there.
Texas QB McCoy had a fine season, too, throwing for 3,512 yards and 27 TDs. But he threw 12 picks and didn’t show so well against the only two stout defenses he faced. In games versus Oklahoma and Nebraska, McCoy was a pedestrian 41-of-75 (54.7%), for 311 yards, a touchdown and four picks. About the only thing Heisman-like about that combined effort was that it appeared as if McCoy was throwing with a stiff arm.
It’s going to be tough for a lot of voters to eliminate those two from contention, since as quarterbacks, the hold the ball longer than anyone else and are clearly visible for the myopic, who conveniently forget there are 21 other players on the field with the QB. They’re the types who believe multi-tasking is eating a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.
The running back crop is pretty impressive this season. In fact, two of them received my second and third-place votes. But as strong as Toby Gerhart and Mark Ingram were this season, neither was the type of player who made you call friends during games to talk in amazement about this play or that move. Gerhart was the closest to that of any ballcarrier, but it’s possible part of his amazement quotient was due to the fact that finding white tailbacks these days is practically impossible, unless you’re haunting the New England Small College Athletic Conference. EH compadre Raging Bill refers to the Caucasian tailback as the “passenger pigeon,” since that species is long extinct. While Gerhart does have some peers, he is a rarity, though he was practically unstoppable in Stanford’s final four games, when he averaged 185.5 yards/contest and scored 13 touchdowns. Pretty impressive, but let’s not get carried away.
Same goes for Ingram, who finished 12th in the nation in rushing. His 1,542 yards and 15 touchdowns are certainly strong performances, and he did come up big in the SEC title game against Florida, rushing for 113 yards and three scores, but let’s be serious here. We’re looking for the “most outstanding” player, not just someone who plays well. Consider some of the other running backs who have won the Heisman. Barry Sanders rushed for 2,628 yards and 37 touchdowns. (Gulp!) Marcus Allen gained 2,342. Ricky Williams picked up 2,327 and scored 29 times. Mike Rozier had 2,148 yards and 29 scores. Bo Jackson: 1,786 yards and 6.4 yards/attempt. And they all did it in 11 games. Gerhart and Ingram are great college players, but they are not Heisman-worthy.
Suh is. His numbers bear it out, which is extremely rare for a defensive tackle. Most of the time, those guys are anonymous, content to – and praised for – earn their side of beef by commanding double and triple-teams and let someone else earn the glory. They are most often found beneath six hundred pounds or so of offensive linemen while linebackers and strong safeties accumulate the stats. Not Suh. Not only did he lead Nebraska in tackles for the second straight year, a remarkable feat, but he also piled up 23 tackles for loss, 12 sacks, three blocked kicks, 24 QB hurries, 10 batted-down passes and an interception. But the numbers are only part of it. Because of Suh’s dominance, the entire Husker defensive unit thrived. Take fellow D-tackle Jared Crick. He had a huge year, all right, with 15 tackles behind the line and 9.5 sacks, and is plenty talented. But as one coach who watched the Huskers devastate the potent Texas attack said, “Crick’s like the guy who rooms with the good-looking guy and gets a bunch of girls because of the roommate.” That may be a little bit of an overstatement, but without Suh’s attracting so much attention, there’s no way Crick produces what he did. And there’s no way Nebraska comes within a second of the Big 12 title. You want outstanding? You want Suh.
This year, the bull wins.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: El Hombre certainly doesn’t condone any kind of anti-Semitic behavior, like the taunting that took place during the Harvard-Dartmouth squash match last week, but you have to admit that it’s rather amusing that when we discuss bad behavior at big schools, it’s usually surrounding football or basketball. In the Ivies, it’s squash. Somebody needs to teach Biff and Chip some manners…If it’s December, then the Cowboys are choking. That’s a darn shame…The early rollout of the stupid Nike LeBron and Kobe puppet ad campaign is bad news for people who prefer to remain sane. This means seven more months of that nonsense. Make it stop, please!...Is there anything more ridiculous than espn’s touting that its sportscenter broadcasts are coming to us from Los Angeles? Who cares if they’re spewing their nauseating brew of synergized highlights, self-promotion and canned crowd noise from a ger in Ulan Bator, just as long as we find out (eventually) the score of the game? Just another reason the network is about as far away from its groundbreaking roots as Michael Jackson was from his Jackson 5 days.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The decision to extend Andy Reid’s
contract hasn’t been too well received among Eagles fans, and that’s not hard to believe, given the brainwashing that has been done about how the city of Philadelphia “deserves” a parade (pronounced locally as “prade”) and how a Super Bowl is the only way to measure success. Of course, many of these people think it’s a good idea to replace Donovan McNabb with Kevin Kolb. Yes, Reid is a borderline boob when it comes to clock management. He also has some serious splotches on his resume, like the ’02 NFC title game loss to Tampa Bay, and his decision not to go with the no-huddle attack during the last seven minutes of the Super Bowl loss to New England. But his successes far outweigh those failures. He’s one of only four (four!) coaches ever to win 100 games in a decade with the same team. He has brought the Eagles to the playoffs seven of the 10 seasons he has coached the Eagles and has won a post-season game every year. His teams almost always get better as the season goes on, and he has even improved as a GM, as his recent moves to upgrade the offense have shown. Reid is imperfect, and he clearly doesn’t like the media (so what?), but he has done an admirable job so far. Now, if he doesn’t get over the hump by the time this deal is done, it’s time to move on. But Reid deserved the extension, and those who want to see him go should be very wary of what might come next.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Let’s get something straight: Anybody who thinks Tim Donaghy didn’t try to influence the outcomes of the games he was betting has never gambled on sports. If you had money on a game, and someone said you could send somebody to the bench with foul trouble, you would do it immediately. In fact, if somebody handed you a gun with a single bullet in it and said you could use it at any point in the game, don’t think for a minute you wouldn’t consider kneecapping a player to guarantee a cover. We didn’t believe Pete Rose, and we shouldn’t believe Donaghy. He deserves a chance to rebuild his life, but we don’t have to buy his story. It just doesn’t add up.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is a testament to the corporate world’s “conscience” that sponsors are not jumping off the Tiger Woods train in bunches. Nike, Accenture and the rest of the logos are sticking by their man for one reason: At some point, this will all burn out, and Woods will return to the links to (one would assume) keep dominating the rest of the field. When that happens, and he issues his mandatory public mea culpa – get ready for a ratings bonanza, Oprah – and undergoes some therapy and/or rehab (that Ambien can be pretty addictive), you can bet the sponsors will be happy to have remained with a man who will have become a sympathetic figure. If Woods plays it right, he will be able to able to regain his former prominent perch, provided he can avoid ordering off the menu at Perkins House of Pancakes.
-EH-
When El Abuelo went to his first and only bullfight, he rooted for the bull, not only because the poor animal was clearly a double-digit underdog, but because it was the right thing to do. The rest of the stadium was pulling for the torero, hoping to see a precise kill. But not El Abuelo. He was impressed by el toro’s power and dignity. And of course, he was disappointed. The bull went down like the victim of a mob hit. It was bloody, ruthless and stunningly final.
It may be hard to believe, given his steel-encased 6-foot, 4-inch, 300-pound frame, but Ndamukong Suh is the bull in the Heisman Trophy race, both metaphorically and in a literal sense. Watching him terrorize those old boys from Texas – not to mention anyone else unlucky enough to have lined up across from him the past two seasons – was like seeing Mark Mangino tear though the Sizzler buffet. Oh, the humanity. In a year when no traditional (read: Offensive) candidate stood out in the Heisman sweepstakes, discerning voters had the opportunity to take a good look at the player who best fit the mandate found on every ballot: “We are truly grateful for your support in selecting the most outstanding college football player in the United States (El Hombre’s italics) for 2009.”
That would be Suh, no question about it. The other finalists had great years, to be sure, but “most outstanding” status belongs to those who truly distinguish themselves as performing well above the usual. That’s the trouble with awards these days. They often go to the person who has the best press agent or the loudest TV foof blithering about his greatness. At this point, we have heard so much about the majesty of Tim Tebow that it’s a wonder he hasn’t been beatified, with only a couple miracles – one of them could be a card trick – standing between him and sainthood. (Word is Sixers GM Billy King prays daily to Tebow to get another job, and should an NBA team hire him, that will definitely qualify as the QB’s first miracle.) What is conveniently omitted from the Tebow mythology is that he hasn’t had a dominant season. His numbers (2,413 yards passing, 18 TDs, five ints., 859 yards rushing, 13 TDs) are impressive but not dominant. Tebow didn’t overwhelm people they way he did in ’07, when he won the Heisman by accounting for a knee-buckling 55 touchdowns (23 rushing, 32 passing). He was great and led the Gators to a perfect regular season, but he wasn’t the most outstanding player out there.
Texas QB McCoy had a fine season, too, throwing for 3,512 yards and 27 TDs. But he threw 12 picks and didn’t show so well against the only two stout defenses he faced. In games versus Oklahoma and Nebraska, McCoy was a pedestrian 41-of-75 (54.7%), for 311 yards, a touchdown and four picks. About the only thing Heisman-like about that combined effort was that it appeared as if McCoy was throwing with a stiff arm.
It’s going to be tough for a lot of voters to eliminate those two from contention, since as quarterbacks, the hold the ball longer than anyone else and are clearly visible for the myopic, who conveniently forget there are 21 other players on the field with the QB. They’re the types who believe multi-tasking is eating a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich.
The running back crop is pretty impressive this season. In fact, two of them received my second and third-place votes. But as strong as Toby Gerhart and Mark Ingram were this season, neither was the type of player who made you call friends during games to talk in amazement about this play or that move. Gerhart was the closest to that of any ballcarrier, but it’s possible part of his amazement quotient was due to the fact that finding white tailbacks these days is practically impossible, unless you’re haunting the New England Small College Athletic Conference. EH compadre Raging Bill refers to the Caucasian tailback as the “passenger pigeon,” since that species is long extinct. While Gerhart does have some peers, he is a rarity, though he was practically unstoppable in Stanford’s final four games, when he averaged 185.5 yards/contest and scored 13 touchdowns. Pretty impressive, but let’s not get carried away.
Same goes for Ingram, who finished 12th in the nation in rushing. His 1,542 yards and 15 touchdowns are certainly strong performances, and he did come up big in the SEC title game against Florida, rushing for 113 yards and three scores, but let’s be serious here. We’re looking for the “most outstanding” player, not just someone who plays well. Consider some of the other running backs who have won the Heisman. Barry Sanders rushed for 2,628 yards and 37 touchdowns. (Gulp!) Marcus Allen gained 2,342. Ricky Williams picked up 2,327 and scored 29 times. Mike Rozier had 2,148 yards and 29 scores. Bo Jackson: 1,786 yards and 6.4 yards/attempt. And they all did it in 11 games. Gerhart and Ingram are great college players, but they are not Heisman-worthy.
Suh is. His numbers bear it out, which is extremely rare for a defensive tackle. Most of the time, those guys are anonymous, content to – and praised for – earn their side of beef by commanding double and triple-teams and let someone else earn the glory. They are most often found beneath six hundred pounds or so of offensive linemen while linebackers and strong safeties accumulate the stats. Not Suh. Not only did he lead Nebraska in tackles for the second straight year, a remarkable feat, but he also piled up 23 tackles for loss, 12 sacks, three blocked kicks, 24 QB hurries, 10 batted-down passes and an interception. But the numbers are only part of it. Because of Suh’s dominance, the entire Husker defensive unit thrived. Take fellow D-tackle Jared Crick. He had a huge year, all right, with 15 tackles behind the line and 9.5 sacks, and is plenty talented. But as one coach who watched the Huskers devastate the potent Texas attack said, “Crick’s like the guy who rooms with the good-looking guy and gets a bunch of girls because of the roommate.” That may be a little bit of an overstatement, but without Suh’s attracting so much attention, there’s no way Crick produces what he did. And there’s no way Nebraska comes within a second of the Big 12 title. You want outstanding? You want Suh.
This year, the bull wins.
* * *
EL HOMBRE SEZ: El Hombre certainly doesn’t condone any kind of anti-Semitic behavior, like the taunting that took place during the Harvard-Dartmouth squash match last week, but you have to admit that it’s rather amusing that when we discuss bad behavior at big schools, it’s usually surrounding football or basketball. In the Ivies, it’s squash. Somebody needs to teach Biff and Chip some manners…If it’s December, then the Cowboys are choking. That’s a darn shame…The early rollout of the stupid Nike LeBron and Kobe puppet ad campaign is bad news for people who prefer to remain sane. This means seven more months of that nonsense. Make it stop, please!...Is there anything more ridiculous than espn’s touting that its sportscenter broadcasts are coming to us from Los Angeles? Who cares if they’re spewing their nauseating brew of synergized highlights, self-promotion and canned crowd noise from a ger in Ulan Bator, just as long as we find out (eventually) the score of the game? Just another reason the network is about as far away from its groundbreaking roots as Michael Jackson was from his Jackson 5 days.
* * *
YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT? The decision to extend Andy Reid’s
contract hasn’t been too well received among Eagles fans, and that’s not hard to believe, given the brainwashing that has been done about how the city of Philadelphia “deserves” a parade (pronounced locally as “prade”) and how a Super Bowl is the only way to measure success. Of course, many of these people think it’s a good idea to replace Donovan McNabb with Kevin Kolb. Yes, Reid is a borderline boob when it comes to clock management. He also has some serious splotches on his resume, like the ’02 NFC title game loss to Tampa Bay, and his decision not to go with the no-huddle attack during the last seven minutes of the Super Bowl loss to New England. But his successes far outweigh those failures. He’s one of only four (four!) coaches ever to win 100 games in a decade with the same team. He has brought the Eagles to the playoffs seven of the 10 seasons he has coached the Eagles and has won a post-season game every year. His teams almost always get better as the season goes on, and he has even improved as a GM, as his recent moves to upgrade the offense have shown. Reid is imperfect, and he clearly doesn’t like the media (so what?), but he has done an admirable job so far. Now, if he doesn’t get over the hump by the time this deal is done, it’s time to move on. But Reid deserved the extension, and those who want to see him go should be very wary of what might come next.
* * *
AND ANOTHER THING: Let’s get something straight: Anybody who thinks Tim Donaghy didn’t try to influence the outcomes of the games he was betting has never gambled on sports. If you had money on a game, and someone said you could send somebody to the bench with foul trouble, you would do it immediately. In fact, if somebody handed you a gun with a single bullet in it and said you could use it at any point in the game, don’t think for a minute you wouldn’t consider kneecapping a player to guarantee a cover. We didn’t believe Pete Rose, and we shouldn’t believe Donaghy. He deserves a chance to rebuild his life, but we don’t have to buy his story. It just doesn’t add up.
* * *
ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD: It is a testament to the corporate world’s “conscience” that sponsors are not jumping off the Tiger Woods train in bunches. Nike, Accenture and the rest of the logos are sticking by their man for one reason: At some point, this will all burn out, and Woods will return to the links to (one would assume) keep dominating the rest of the field. When that happens, and he issues his mandatory public mea culpa – get ready for a ratings bonanza, Oprah – and undergoes some therapy and/or rehab (that Ambien can be pretty addictive), you can bet the sponsors will be happy to have remained with a man who will have become a sympathetic figure. If Woods plays it right, he will be able to able to regain his former prominent perch, provided he can avoid ordering off the menu at Perkins House of Pancakes.
-EH-
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