Author Archives: Bri Moore

Duane Bickett, Indianapolis Colts, Jim Irsay, NFL, Peyton Manning

What Goes Around…

Like any good football fan, around 1:00PM yesterday, I was all set: Fantasy football league StatTracker loaded on the computer, beer in hand and scrolling through NFL Sunday Ticket to see which game I wanted to watch, I settled on the Atlanta Falcons vs. Chicago Bears tilt.
Being a Bears fan, this was a natural selection for me. But living around Central Indiana all these years, as the Indianapolis Colts bandwagon grew, part of me reveled in checking in on the Colts trip to Houston to play the Texans. So I did, around 1:20PM.

The Colts were already down.

I had a hunch – just a sneaking suspicion really – that the Colts would sorely miss Peyton Manning, out for “awhile” (in the words of owner Jim Irsay) due to a second surgery on his neck.
And wouldn’t you know it, I was right.
After the Texans 34-7 throttling of the Colts, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Scrolling through my Facebook updates, I saw friends trashing the team, talking about how horrible they were, how it could have been 68-0.
Right on all accounts.
And then I saw this: “This is going to be such a long season…I won’t be able to watch!”
Bingo. 

The money line I’d been waiting for. You could almost hear Colts fans across the state hitting the sauce, opening their fourth beer of the day in the early second quarter.

See, a few years ago, I wrote about how the Colts fans were spoiled brats, the whole bandwagon lot of them. Nearly 10 straight playoff seasons, seven straight 12-win campaigns, nine straight 10-win seasons, fans didn’t know how good they had it – or had forgotten had bad it had been.
The last time the Colts were under .500 was 2001 and Manning was in his fourth season, just 25-years old. In fact, 2001 was the only other season other than Manning’s rookie year in 1998 that the Colts were below .500. The last time the Colts won 10 or more games in a season before 1999, when Manning led the Colts to a 13-3 mark? Try 1977, when they were in Baltimore.
Since arriving in Indianapolis in 1984, the Colts had 7 losing seasons in 13 years. They had a few fun years with Jim Harbaugh and Marshall Faulk, but they always felt like punchy underdogs in the playoffs.
But since Peyton Manning came to town, the Colts have been the heavyweight favorites in the regular season. I’ve often argued that most fans just want a team that always has a shot and contends. But the Colts are proving my theory wrong, really.
Perennial contenders, the Colts fan base forgot how bad it sucked to be Colts fans. And I can say this because I’m unattached, unemotionally watching it happen from the sidelines as a fan of another team who doesn’t rival the Colts like the New England Patriots or Pittsburgh Steelers.

The fan base has swollen to include people who can’t name anyone on the team before 1998. They don’t know who Ron Stark is, Billy Brooks or Duane Bickett. The majority of these fans didn’t watch the team in the 1980s and 1990s – I know because the games were often blacked out. They got excited when Eric Dickerson came to town, but when the Colts didn’t win games, they stopped coming.

If you were looking for something to do in downtown Naptown in the late 80s or early 90s, it would have been a Pacers game. Or, wait for Indiana and Kentucky to play college basketball in the RCA Dome (or, as most should remember it, “The Hoosier Dome”). 

I can’t remember a single friend from the age of 8-16 who told me, at any point, they were a Colts fan. No one wore their jersey to school, no one went to the games.

And then, in 1999, it happened – they went 13-3 and had a franchise quarterback. Over the last 12 years, the Colts have used their success with Manning to build a new stadium and host the upcoming Super Bowl, bringing in millions of revenue in one form or another. Yeah, he’s worth the money and the roster bonus he earned even if he doesn’t play a down in 2011.
But Manning has masked a flawed franchise for years. Poor draft selections (just see everything from 2007-2011), bad hires (is Jim Caldwell even alive?) and an owner who seems to be going slightly insane (check out his hilarious Twitter feed).

This is what ancient Rome must have been like just before the end. Romans just ticked off at the lackluster leadership and star power: “Well, he’s no Caesar!“

Maybe Manning never plays another game or maybe he plays five more highly productive years and wins another Super Bowl. Honestly, both options are on the table. But that’s not what is at play here.
It’s the city and its fans at stake. This isn’t just an abnormal season or set of six games in which the Colts won’t have Peyton Manning at quarterback. No, Indy, it’s the future.
Take a look around – poor special teams, lackluster and unimaginative offense with a bumbling, aging quarterback and an incompetent coach? 

Welcome to how the other half of the NFL lives every week.

The problem is the fan base is built upon guys who’ve started rooting for the Colts in the Manning era and subsequently convinced their wives and girlfriends to watch, to go to games, to tailgate and host Colts parties.  At least 30 percent of the fan base is women under 50 – and I have no real way to back that up other than the fact I live here and see it with my eyes.

As a friend told me today, “My girlfriend didn’t want to watch the entire game because it was getting out of hand and she said, ‘I think I’m just a Peyton Manning fan, not a Colts fan.’”

And there you have it – the bulk of the Colts fan base is centered around Peyton Manning and wearing cute No. 18 jerseys.
Take a look at fans in other cities and you’ll see Gale Sayers and Walter Payton throwbacks in Chicago, Dan Fouts in San Diego, Montana and Rice in San Francisco, Bart Starr in Green Bay, Randall Cunningham and Seth Joyner in Philadelphia. 

No one’s wearing Earl Morrall throwbacks in Indianapolis. It’s a young fan base that hasn’t aged through time.

Being a fan of a team means you support that team no matter what. Want to curse at their ineptitude? Fine. Hate the GM? By all means, question the draft strategy. Criticize the players for not caring like you do? Well, only if you can back that up. You still have to tune in. You have to take your lumps, otherwise, the big wins and the championships don’t mean as much.
Most (again, not all, but most) Colts fans would tell you the lean years were during Peyton’s career, losses to the Dolphins, Jets, Patriots and Chargers, when the team had a good regular season and blew an opportunity in the playoffs.
Wrong.
The hard times were 1-15 in 1991, 4-12 in 1993, 3-13 in 1997. Those were the bad times, the bumbling times you looked away in horror, wondering desperately if it would ever get better, if they would ever contend. But there weren’t enough fans of the team now to remember that kind of pain because they bought their first jersey or ticket in 1999, 2001 or 2002.
Once Peyton’s done, this franchise will move forward and find a new quarterback. It might take five or six rough years, but they will eventually find a new guy that will be a good player for a decade or so and put the team in position to contend. It happened in Dallas, Green Bay and Pittsburgh. It’s the circle of NFL life.
There was only one Roger Staubach, but there was also only one Troy Aikman. He had a couple bad years early on too. Dallas fans stuck around for the whole thing.
No team can remain that good forever. And there will never be another Peyton Manning.
But there will be Colts football.
Question is for the fair-weathered fans of Indy, will anyone care enough to be around for the truly hard times?
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College Football, Miami Hurricanes, NCAA, Nevin Shapiro, Ohio State

A House of Cards

Yet again, another sordid scandal plagues college football. Another powerhouse accused of non-compliance. Another messy saga for a sport that, as much as we seem to love it, is as warped and seedy as 1920s politics.
But instead of one Boss Tweed, we’ve got thousands.
On the heels of Ohio State’s players trading memorabilia for tattoos, and former coach Jim Tressel knowing about it all along, comes the predictable scandal at the University of Miami.
Predictable because if there’s trouble, The U can find it like it’s players can the NFL.
Basically, a booster with a money tree showered athletes with all kinds of gifts and lots of people knew about it.
By law, I think I’m required to restate the accusations in the Yahoo! Sports report just so you can be stunned at the sheer stupidity of it all. So here we go…
Former Miami booster, Nevin Shapiro, who surprisingly is serving a 20-year prison sentence for masterminding a $930 million Ponzi scheme, says he gave impermissible benefits to 72 of the university’s football players – as well as other athletes – between 2002 and 2010.
These impermissible benefits include: money (and lots of it), cars, yacht trips, jewelry, televisions, sex parties and meals. Shapiro says he paid for an abortion for one player and an engagement ring for another.
The list of players include a who’s who of Miami’s all-stars over the past decade: Vince Wilfork, Devin Hester, Willis McGahee, Antrel Rolle, Jon Beason, Jonathon Vilma, Tyrone Moss, current quarterback Jacory Harris and the late Sean Taylor.
Allegedly, at least six coaches and as many as 10 employees of the athletic department were aware of Shapiro and his salacious activities.
“Hell yeah, I recruited a lot of kids for Miami,” Shapiro said. “With access to the clubs, access to the strip joints. My house. My boat. We’re talking about high school football players. Not anybody can just get into the clubs or strip joints. Who is going to pay for it and make it happen? That was me.”
Don’t think you can believe a convicted Ponzi schemer? Fine. Perhaps you’ll believe the 100-plus hours of research and verification done by Yahoo! Sports on the report over 11 months.
“I did it because I could,” Shapiro said. “And because nobody stepped in to stop me.”
Granted, Shapiro comes off in the report like a pathetic wannabe, a jock sniffer who actually thought he was friends with these athletes, not because of the money and services he provided them, but because they liked him. So he’s mad that they’ve distanced themselves from him and it’s payback time.
But without question, there’s a bigger problem that yet another scumbag getting his hands on a major university and it’s football program.
There is a problem with the ethics and morals of the athletes, to some degree. And there’s certainly a problem with the morals and ethics of those in the athletic departments and coaching staffs.
I’m tired of people claiming you can’t blame an 18-year-old for taking money, cars and clothes. You can.
We need to come up with some sort of definitive answer on where we stand with 18-year-olds. They can vote. They can fight for our country and hold a gun. But they can’t know right from wrong and not take payments from boosters? How many times do we have to go over this?
Would I take the money? Even at 18, I honestly don’t think so. But I don’t really know. I’m not 18 anymore. I would have been terrified of getting caught. I would have been shamed beyond belief if my parents found out.
But that’s not fair. I’m not them. None of us are. We don’t know the circumstances or the pressures. So it doesn’t matter what we would do. What matters is what all these so called student-athletes are doing. It isn’t 1965. We can’t continue to sweep this under the rug. Because no matter who is to blame, it’s not OK.
There are rules and they are there for a reason. College athletics are not professional. You are not paid to play. You receive a free college education. There is a trade off.
We have rules to keep us all in check. We’re only as good as the honor we have in upholding them and the justice system that punishes for breaking them. For example, if I run a red light or speed, it’s a risk. Ten years ago, you could run a red light and without the police there at the time, you wouldn’t be caught or punished. Now, nearly every stoplight has a camera. They will find you. And you will pay.
Except the very people who set the rules, enforce them and support them don’t seem to see the hypocrisy of what they do.
A corrupt BCS system has followed a corrupt bowl system. Athletes are given bags of “swag” with tons of valuable goodies for going to bowl games, but can’t have a job in order to have gas money. Schools are jumping conferences all in the name of exposure and money, but don’t let Tim Tebow see a dime of millions earned from selling his No. 15 Florida Gators jersey or having his likeness appear on the cover of a video game.
The University of Texas can threaten to bolt the Big XII only to stay because they are given their own TV channel, but student-athletes don’t have negotiating rights, of any kind. 

So let’s be real – we lost the whole student-athlete part a long time ago.

Even though 90 percent of athletes won’t play professional sports, it’s the 10 percent who do that get all the attention. Even though the BCS only affects 10 percent of college football teams, it gets all our attention.
The NCAA can have all the corporate partners it wants, get money for exploiting college athletics, but it won’t allow for a per diem larger than a McDonald’s happy meal. Schools can have corporate partners, conferences get TV deals and coaches can earn a million dollars per year, yet they all say it’s about growing young men and women and working with student-athletes.
No, no it’s not. It’s about wins. It’s about championships. It’s about your school’s brand. It’s about money.
The NCAA is the very definition of hypocrisy. From university presidents to coaches, boosters to athletes, the entire college football system is about as shady as an oak tree. And it’s everywhere.
Miami is just the latest school in a long line of NCAA investigations involving college football and some of its most successful programs. In just the past 18 months, USC, Ohio State, Auburn, Oregon, Michigan, North Carolina, Georgia Tech and LSU have either been investigated or sanctioned for infractions. There are too many to list over just the past decade.
So if you think this is going away, keep telling yourself that. Keep that oblivious attitude. Stick your head in the sand, join the crowd. Join the NCAA in it’s ridiculous attempt and revisionism. Crack jokes about them making schools vacate wins and championships.
Or, for once, everyone could grow a spine and do what’s needed.
We need to blow up the NCAA and it’s rule book.
Figuratively, of course.
The NCAA is a house of cards, built by revisionists who stick their heads in the sand, investigate when someone blows a whistle and hand out death penalties. A death penalty for Miami won’t teach the next school a lesson – because it’s already happening somewhere else.
We have rules to check us all in check. We’re only as good as the honor we have in upholding them and the justice system. If I run a red light or speed, it’s a risk. Ten years ago, you could run a red light and without the police there at the time, you wouldn’t be caught or punished. Now, nearly every stoplight has a camera. They will find you. And you will pay the ticket. Do it too many times, you lose your license.
So blow it up. All of it. Rewrite the rules for modern times.
I don’t want them to pay student-athletes and I don’t think that will fix the larger issue. But maybe it’s worth a shot to really look into it.
Get the agents out of college athletics. I don’t care how, but do it. Make it a federal offense to give money to a student-athlete. Make it a jailable offense to take money from a booster or an agent or anyone as a student-athlete. We have to start making them feel it, too. Just because you are now in the NFL doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be punished. Perhaps schools who get hit three times have to give up all college athletics for five years.
It’s time to wash the system clean, a baptism of sorts. Hit restart and build the NCAA around what’s real, what works and still manages to build integrity, honor and reward the talented, hard-working student-athletes the right way.
Maybe these are terrible ideas. But they are at least ideas. What does it take to make sweeping changes, because my head isn’t buried in the sand.  
Is yours?
Better yet, is the NCAAs?

If so, let the cards fall where they may.

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Denver Broncos, John Cena, John Fox, Kyle Orton, Merril Hoge, Tim Tebow, WWE

Tim Tebow: The Question Means More Than The Answer


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As predicted here, the NFL Lockout is over and we’re back to football.
Just another one of the well-crafted, soap opera like story lines the NFL has come to be known for in order to steal more headlines and drive up as much interest as possible for the sport. And really, all you can do is sit back and applaud, because it’s working.
Perhaps too well.
Just take a look at Denver, where the Broncos seem to have employed some WWE-type storyline in the “quarterback duel” between Kyle Orton and Tim Tebow.
For months, the Broncos have been building the storylines to their own version of SummerSlam.
Tebow has been painted as a traditional “babyface” character, while Orton has filled the “heel” role. The ultimate good guys vs. bad guy showdown in football. Except it’s not a steroid/testosterone filled male soap opera with predetermined finishes.
In immortal words of Chris Berman and every other cheese ball announcer, it’s The. National. Football. League.
New Broncos head coach John Fox is in a tough spot. He’s paid to win games, get to the playoffs and return the Broncos to elite NFL status. Right now, Orton gives him the best shot at doing that. But he also inherited Tebow, an unconventional quarterback drafted 25th overall in 2010 by the previous regime led by former coach Josh McDaniels.
The problem? The fans in Denver (as well as football fans outside the Rockies) and – perhaps more importantly – the media, love Tebow. Like bigger than the Beatles, come marry my daughter and inherit the family business kind of love.
So the local Denver media has put on a full court press, painting Tebow as a work of art who cannot be confined to traditional quarterback methods and, like a wild stallion, needs to be set free from the traditional confinements of pro offense.
Many in the national media back Orton, whom they claim fits the mold of an NFL quarterback and who’s a winner. They point to his record, his touchdown-to-interception ratio and his general mechanics and ask why there’s even a debate on who Denver’s starting quarterback should be.
And the fans? Well, as a person, who doesn’t like Tim Tebow? If you’re a parent, you want your kid wearing his jersey. He professes and seems to live his faith. He’s honest. He doesn’t throw anyone – including Orton – under the proverbial bus.
Most importantly, he’s genuine.
In the preface of his book, Tebow says, “It’s not always the easiest thing to be the center of so much spilled ink. You read glowing things and it doesn’t feel deserved. You read things that are critical and it cuts you to the bone.”
Which explains why he’s got an “aw, shucks” personality, but also seemed slightly defensive of ESPN analyst Merril Hoge’s scathing critique of him last week.
Tebow is human, even though people made Bill Brasky-like tales about him as he won national championships and a Heisman Trophy at Florida. But it’s his view and outlook on pretty much everything that position him as the John Cena of the NFL.
For those who aren’t as lame as me and still watch the WWE occasionally, John Cena is the current big boy of the WWE. He’s loved by children, somewhat loathed by most adults. He professes “Hustle, Loyalty, Respect” and salutes the crowd. He vows to never give up and generally tries to do things that right way (as much as you can in “sports entertainment” (a.k.a professional wrestling).
For Tebow, it’s much the same. He’s either loved or loathed. He swore after a bad game and a loss at Florida that he’d never give less than his best and he’d do everything in his power to ensure his team won every game. The Gators won every game after, and the national championship. Before he even graduated from Florida, the speech was put on a plaque. He’s a legend in his own time.
But others see Tebow pushing an agenda. His mother had a difficult pregnancy with him and doctors recommended abortion because if she gave birth, she would probably die. Obviously, she refused and Tim Tebow and his mother survived. During the 2010 Super Bowl, the Christian group “Focus on the Family” ran an ad that showed Tebow and his mother talking about being pro-life.
Tebow’s parents were missionaries in the Philippines, his father a minister. At age 15, Tebow did his own mission work there and frequently goes back even today.
Tebow’s world, religious and ethical views are already shaped and were probably done so at an early age. What makes many uncomfortable with Tebow is his unshakeable belief in whatever the topic is: abortion, religion, his football skills as a quarterback. You name it, Tebow’s beliefs are strong.
And for those that dislike it or Tebow, it’s because those things are unsettling. People don’t like to have things shoved in their face and told what’s right and wrong, or to be made to feel bad for not caring either way.
Orton, in the heel role, is also unsettling to those who care about things other than talent or on the field performance. It’s the stuff on the periphery that does him in.
He wears a beard most of the time, so he’s not that clean cut, Gillette shave commercial kind of guy. He’s not as attractive as Tebow, so the women don’t swoon when they hear his name. In fact, his name doesn’t even roll off the tongue like Tom Brady, Peyton Manning or even Tim Tebow. They are Newport Beach, Orton is more Reseda.
Orton didn’t have a legendary college career, win a national championship or a Heisman. He was not flanked by Erin Andrews on the sideline with announcers showering him with praise. No, Orton had the distinct pleasure of following Drew Brees at Purdue after Brees led the Boilers to a Rose Bowl and shattered nearly every school record.
Orton’s been photographed drunk and holding bottles of liquor. Multiple times. Yeah, that looks good on a 10-year-olds wall. And he was in a starting quarterback battle once before: with Rex Grossman, of all people.
But honestly, none of that really, truly matters. For either Orton or Tebow.
Tebow has a 1-2 record, with a 50 percent completion percentage, five TDs and 3 INTs in three career starts at the tail end of last season. Orton had 20 TDs and 9 INTs with a completion percentage of 58.8 and a 3-10 record in 13 starts last season.
It is and should be about what happens in between the white lines. But it won’t be. It’s just not our style. Because our style is to pick style over substance.
So who wins this epic battle, you might ask? Well, that’s the hook, is it not? The question means more than the answer. The analysis is more revealing than the outcome. The build-up more exciting than the payoff.
And that’s what they want. They got us good, pulled us in, made us believe.
It’s not about the chance to win now or build for the future. It’s not about if Orton is that much better than Tebow or if Tebow can really play the position. This has always been about the story.
Right now, the writers of this scripted little saga have the heel out in front. Remember, they have to make you doubt the good guy will win in the end. You have to believe he’s out of it.
In the end, Tebow will get his chance. That’s not an endorsement, yet my lack of an endorsement doesn’t equal condemnation for Tebow either.
It’s just the way it works, that’s all.
We’ve seen Kyle Orton before. He’s your standard mediocre, sometimes good, NFL quarterback. Tebow captivates us in a way beyond football, both good and bad. The world needs more Tim Tebow, if only because he bucks the trend, puts butts in seats, sells jerseys and season tickets.
Perhaps when this story arc is over, whenever that may be, and the good guy has once again toppled the bad guy, can we really start to evaluate what drives us.
Because it’s always more about the story and where we fall in supporting one side or the other that says more about us than the characters involved.
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Barry Bonds, Boston Red Sox, Indianapolis Colts, Major League Baseball, Oklahoma City Thunder, Pittsburgh Pirates

Really Bad Eggs

Why the Pirates Are Obligated to Loot and Plunder at the Trade Deadline
More than anything in professional sports, as a fan, I just want everyone’s effort.
Just try to look like you care, because we do.
Fair or not, it’s the truth. If you are in a relationship and you’re dogging it, you’ll hear about it – at least if the other party cares at all. And that’s the point, people tell you to try harder and get better or give more effort because they care.
That’s what sports fans do. And after so long, if you believe that a team or its players stopped trying, you eventually check out.
All of this explains why no one cares about the Pittsburgh Pirates resurgent 2011 season.
For the first time in 18 long years, the Pirates are on track to have a winning record. Hell, they’re on track to win their division. If this were any other team in just about any other sport, you’d have been inundated with stories, columns and blogs about it.
Until today, when ESPN ran a story by JerryCrasnik, it was crickets.
And lack of effort explains why.
The Pirates used to be respected. They used to be the big boys on the National League block. They were “the Family” in the 1970s and in the early 1990s, they won three straight division titles headlined by the original “Killer B’s” – Barry Bonds (pre-size 22 head) and Bobby Bonilla. Then some scrub named Francisco Cabrera, the last position player on the Atlanta Braves bench, singled in a broken-down Sid Bream to win a thrilling Game 7 of the 1992 NLCS.
And since that time, all they’ve done is secure a spot in the record books as the team with the most consecutive losing seasons in all four major U.S. sports.
Over the last two decades, the Pirates haven’t even tried. Either by management or by players, they have failed spectacularly.
Oh, there was the time in 1997 that they finished runner-up in the division (albeit with a losing record). Perhaps they would have fared better if not for that bloated $9 million payroll. Even by 1997 standards, that’s obscenely low.
The explanation has been the painfully lame “we’re a small market team and we have no money.”
Then either contract the team, sell it or move it. Or perhaps teams like Pittsburgh could have and should have used some of their massive revenue sharing kickbacks to field a more competitive team.
Take 2008, for example: The Pirates had a payroll of roughly $50.8 million. But they were given $39 million in revenue sharing.
What in the world are they doing with their money?
Well, they did build PNC Park for the 2001 season – which the Pirates opened with a 100 loss season.
What a waste.

The Pirates blew a golden opportunity there. After years of attendance decline (they dropped to an average of 12,577 fans per game in 1995), the 2001 season saw fans come out in droves to the new stadium. 

But what did they do with the 2001 average attendance of 30,834? As one might guess with a team that finished tied for the worst record in baseball at 62-100, they dropped back to 23,148 fans per game in 2002.

It’s basically been falling ever since, hitting 19,479 in 2009.

In every year since 1992 except the 2001 season, the Pirates are at half the league average in attendance.
It’s not something that you can blame on a market. In fact, just stop blaming markets and fans altogether. You bought the team, you knew what you were getting into, the market, the stadium situation, all that. You either want to own that particular team and try to make it a winner or you don’t.

Lots of small market teams draw fans – as long as they are competitive. Look at the Indianapolis Colts or the Oklahoma City Thunder. Good players and good teams bring in fans. Fans want to watch their home team contend.

Forget actually winning, we just want contending. Contending means you have a chance.
As a kid, I enjoyed the underdog. In many ways, I still do. Some of my favorite teams have been underdogs. Others are the big market bad boys who spend among the most. For instance, the Boston Red Sox paid $52 million out in revenue sharing in 2008, but they also spent $147 million.
The difference between the Sox (2nd in payroll) and the Pirates (29th of out 30) was astronomical, both in the money and wins departments, as the Sox paid three times as much for their roster as the Pirates did – and the Sox revenue sharing dues were more than what the Pirates paid for their entire roster.
Even if the Pirates could not afford a decent team for the last 18 years, why didn’t they try something, anything, to prove they cared? The Oakland A’s did not have any money either and they turned to stats and metrics to get the most bang for their buck. They’ve even got Brad Pitt starring in a movie about it – “Moneyball”.
The Chicago Cubs haven’t won a World Series in 102 years, but for the most part, they’re trying. You don’t find them on the list of those receive revenue sharing (yes, there are other reasons, like TV contracts and a massive fan base).
For crying out loud, even the Florida Marlins try once every seven years before selling off half the team. They’ve won two World Series titles in the last 15 years just by growing talent and having one season to see if it wins before blowing it up. The Pirates don’t even do that.
Until now. Now is there chance to redeem just a little bit of the last shameful 18 years. To give back to the poor schmucks that stayed with the Pirates and kept coming to games and buying the black and gold.
With a 50-44 record, the Pirates are a half-game up in the NL Central. Granted, the Central is perhaps the weakest division in baseball – but the Pirates are right there. There’s a little thing called the trade deadline just around the corner.
Do something, Pirates.
Pick up an arm. Pick up a bat. Hell, pick up both. There are difference makers out there. Just do something. Anything.
Just try.
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DeMaurice Smith, Drew Brees, NFL, NFL Lockout, Peter King, Peyton Manning, Roger Goodell, Tom Brady

Days of Our Football Lives

As the NFL lockout continues and labor negotiations drag on, it has become more and more obvious what is really going on here.
It is a scripted daytime soap opera.
Call it “Days of Our Football Lives” or “As Negotiations Turn” or “The Rich and the Reckless” but at the end of the day, just call it something.
It is not hard to connect the dots. With the soap industry flailing around like a fish out of water and shows that have been on the air 30-plus years being cancelled, those writers have to go somewhere, right?
And it is no secret that NFL has, over the years, actively positioned themselves to dominate the sports headlines all year long.
From changes in the draft schedule (from one day to three and in prime time) to the release of its schedule, the NFL (wisely) has looked to steal headlines from other sports February through July.
And now that the NFL has reached what should ultimately be described as their peak popularity, they have us hooked like a housewife with a box of tissues.
We are absolutely addicted to professional football. There is no real rehab program, no center for us to detox in.
And there is no placebo.
If we were logical, instead of worrying about what we are going to do without football on Sundays from September through February, we would realize that we make it through just fine during the off-season. How do we spend roughly 34 Sundays the rest of the year? And how will we make it without fantasy football? Well, what do we do the rest of the year without fantasy football?
The difference is in our mind. 
Like any addict, we think that we cannot make it. We need it, we have to have it. We need to talk trash to friends of other teams, we need fantasy scores, we need to watch games and question coaching calls and wonder why the 49ers are still employing Alex Smith. We need to know how Al Davis’ corpse will look in a 1990s/Starter era windbreaker this year.
This is not to make light of addiction, either. We truly are addicted to football – it is just that football addiction does not hold the same long term ramifications that narcotics, alcohol or cigarettes do. Or, if you are David Duchovny, the horizontal waltz.
Perhaps it’s the physicality of the sport, the speed. We can’t get the jaw-rattling hits from the NBA, we can’t get the speed of the game from Major League Baseball.
Or perhaps it’s the length of the season that drags us in. We get football for 17 weeks and playoffs – and then the action goes away. With other sports, their seasons span multiple seasons of the year. And before we can even forget they were over, baseball and basketball are back. They are never gone long enough for us to actually miss them.
Certainly, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
But why would our favorite sport go to these lengths to make us aware of that? Why the posturing and the drama?
Is the NFL that insecure that it needs to feel our anxiety over its possible absence? It’s like someone telling you how deeply in love they are with you, yet at the same time threatening to leave.
Like any good TV show, they set the stage for this in advance. 
Who knows who has been in on this nefarious plot to keep this cliffhanger going. Peter King of Sports Illustrated began writing about a possible locket back in 2009. Despite the conditions at the time being sunny, he began to warn of dark clouds on the horizon, like some football Nostradamus.
And like any good story arc, it’s taken time to develop.
The NFL played their own version of ratings sweeps when it got the courts involved, with the lockout lifted, then reinstated – coincidentally (wink, wink) giving the players enough time to swoop in and pick up playbooks for about 48 hours.
We’ve had heroes, villains and those who blurred the lines. Is Goodell a puppet? Are certain owners the power brokers? Do Drew Brees, Peyton Manning and Tom Brady really hold that much weight and respect in the players union?
Could we get more melodrama? How about union leader DeMaurice Smith telling lawyers to “stand down” a few weeks ago? That script has quite a bit of manufactured drama dripping from the pages.
When it’s all said and done, the NFL will reach an accord with the players and there will be football. Sadly, many of us will sit around talking about how close we were to losing the sport for the season, even though I now believe that was never the case.
Call me a skeptic or a conspiracy theorist, but there has always appeared to be some level of unbelievability (yes, I just made that word up) to the whole thing.
At this point, I just want to see the closing credits to this soap opera and look forward to hearing some hokey, slow, contempo, elevator style song – as a football spins in the clouds.
Slowly.
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