Author Archives: Bri Moore

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Great Expectations

To paraphrase Rick Pitino, Jim Harbaugh ain’t walkin’ through that door.
The University of Michigan must finally come to the conclusion the rest of the world did some time ago – it’s football program isn’t quite as prestigious as it once was, but for reasons other than Rich Rodriguez.
It’s a different college sports world now. It’s not 1985 or even 1997.
Other schools have realized this, accepted it and moved on to rebuild. Some who haven’t, like Notre Dame, continue to struggle with unrealistic expectations and dreams of multiple national championships.
In fact, you could say that are only a handful of college programs that are perennial contenders. The rest are simply pretenders, lying to themselves about the cyclical nature of sports, and more importantly, missing parity punctuation at the end of each season.
Texas and USC went through down years this season, as did Florida. Florida won two titles in three seasons, but with a new coaching staff, it’s not a guarantee the Gators are a top five program for the next decade.
Those schools will certainly rebound, but Michigan will never be the program it once was. To some, it looks an awful lot like Indiana University basketball.
Legendary coach leaves. Program struggles to find identity, fails to accept its new spot in the hierarchy, loses in-state recruits and it’s base, bottoms out, flounders as it tries to find its place in the new world of college sports, where young athletes care more about weather, professional prospects and TV time than they do about prestige.
Reality is that many athletes do not want to attend college for academics. And they certainly don’t want to spend what little free time they have in a weather climate that features rain, snow or cold wins out of Canada for six months a year. I hear summertime in Michigan is beautiful. Sadly, that’s when college sports are on a hiatus.
Wonder why Duke, North Carolina, Florida, Arizona, Texas have been so successful in college basketball over the last 20 years? Recruiting. And nothing helps recruiting like sunshine and scenery. All of the aforementioned schools stole players from Midwestern states. It’s like a formula. Good coaching, pipeline to the pros, great weather equals a hotbed of activity.
How does Stanford compete in football and basketball with the rigorous academic requirements, while a school like Notre Dame with similar standards struggles? Location, location, location.
Theoretically, athletes aren’t being paid to play in college. So you have to tap into the other resources. How is a school like Michigan or Indiana going to lure a kid from California, Florida or Texas to play at their school and move away from home?
Prestige? Please.
Most of these kids have only heard the name Bo Schembechler. He retired in 1989. To have any memory of watching Michigan during the end of his coaching career, you’d have to be at least 25.
Schembechler brought Michigan its prestige, it’s glory days. He compiled a 194-48-5 record in 21 seasons that included 13 Big Ten titles and despite not winning a national championship, finished in the top 10 16 times. It wasn’t under Lloyd Carr that Michigan captured the national title in 1997.
But like all good things, Michigan has struggled in recent years. Under Carr, the Wolverines went 122-40 with five Big Ten titles and that national title in ’97. Carr was 19-8 against top 10 ranked opponents and his teams were ranked in the top 25 for all but nine games during his tenure. Yet the administration grew restless that Michigan wasn’t winning national titles or beating Ohio State, so they hired Rich Rodriguez.
RichRod overhauled the system from the long-held pro-style to the shotgun spread, brought in his kind of players, paid little attention to defense and despite efforts to practice all the time, went 15-22 in three seasons. His .405 win percentage in the lowest in Michigan football history.
Is it all Rodriguez’ fault? Well, perhaps. You can’t go 0-6 against Michigan State and Ohio State and expect to keep your job.
But the times are a changing. Even Carr fell victim to the mid-major upset, as Appalachian State beat No. 5 Michigan in September of 2008. TCU, Boise State and Utah have all beaten teams that were “powers.” It happens.
Now Michigan searches for a new coach and you know they want Jim Harbaugh, a former Michigan quarterback, who’s done great things at Stanford.
As mentioned before, this all looks a little familiar. Reminds me a little of Indiana basketball and Steve Alford.
Indiana never formally offered Alford the job during two different coaching searches post-Bob Knight. At one time, it appeared Alford wanted it, but Alford learned what Harbaugh probably already knows: you can never live up to the expectations. Hometown boy comes home to return a once proud school to glory is the stuff of movies, not reality.
The reality is that the expectations in every fan’s mind can never be realized, not in the current era. Too much media coverage, not enough time. Twenty years ago, athletes didn’t want to leave Michigan and Indiana. They stayed three and four years and cared more about their school and the program than the weather.
It’s just not the same.
It took Indiana a decade, Mike Davis and Kelvin Sampson to realize that. It’s taken Tom Crean nearly three years to get the basketball program to a level that it’s at the very least competitive in every game again.
Coaches have changed too. Knight and Schembelcher are a rare breed in today’s sports. Most young athletes just won’t stay at a program and take the criticism and be pushed like that. That’s why coaches like Jim Harbaugh, Pete Carroll and Urban Meyer are so popular with players – they relate to them and are friendly with them, to the point they believe the coach likes them as a son.
When Rick Pitino took over the Boston Celtics in 1997, he famously said, “Larry Bird ain’t walkin’ through that door. Kevin McHale and Robert Parish aren’t walking through that door.” It was an attempt to lower the expectations, though the local media and fans killed him for it.
In essence, all Pitino tried to do was make people realize this wasn’t the 1960s or the 1980s and the NBA was a different league by the late 1990s. It was going to be harder to build a dynasty from the bottom.
The same has happened to college sports. 
A lot of diversity, a lot of parity, a lot of hard-working talented kids at less prestigious schools causing upsets and firings, less committed studs at the prestigious schools who only stay for a few years means that it’s harder and harder for a program to become what Florida State, Penn State, Michigan, Miami and others used to be for so long. 
Michigan may play in the biggest stadium in the country and be the all-time winningest college football program, but honestly, if you were a high school sophomore, junior or senior, would they even be in your top five?
That’s what Michigan should realize: we will “Hail to the Victors” sometimes, but it’s not going to happen every two or three seasons.
Face it, Bo Schembechler ain’t walking through that door.
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College Football, Florida, Joe Paterno, Tony Dungy, Urban Meyer

An Urban Legend

Hear the one about Urban Meyer retiring from Florida for the second time in 12 months? Legend says it was for his family, but some say they see him walking the sidelines in a pullover from time to time.
Urban Meyer has retired from the University of Florida and college football.
Again.
Meyer resigned on Wednesday, stepping down for the second time in less than a year. His first crack at retirement, which lasted just a day, was for health reasons. This time it’s to be a better husband and father.
So he says.
If we make it to around 4:00PM today, it will be the longest of the two retirements. And he’s 46. That’s two more retirements than Joe Paterno’s ever had and he’s turning 84 in roughly two weeks. Apparently, Meyer didn’t take to shuffleboard very well after last year’s press conference.

“At the end of the day, I’m very convinced that you’re going to be judged on how you are as a husband and as a father and not on how many bowl games we won,” Meyer said at yesterday’s news conference. “I’ve not seen my two girls play high school sports. They’re both very talented Division I-A volleyball players, so I missed those four years. I missed two already, with one away at college. I can’t get that time back,” he said.

“Last year was a knee-jerk reaction,” Meyer said. “This year was just completely different.”

Wait, what? Did Pat Riley write his speech notes? How is this any different?

No, Urban you can’t get that time back. And no offense (well, perhaps a little), but should you have thought about that for say the last 15-20 years? It seems as though this is nothing more than a bad case of regret. And the thing about regret is you can’t get back the time lost.
Can he step away and become a better husband and father? Of course. It just begs the question: what the hell was the last year for? Why didn’t he just stay retired? After a 7-5 season and endless promises to recruits at Florida, they are in worse shape than when he left.
As for the family he’s leaving to get closer with, how can they trust that this time he’ll be a man of his word after the one day fiasco last year?
Meyer is doing his best impression of Robert Duvall’s character in “The Apostle.” At least, that’s my best guess. His once perfect life has been cracking recently and he’s trying to reclaim it boldly. Is it out of line to suggest that perhaps he could do both?
There is apparently an unwritten rule where coaches must work 18-20 hour days and sleep in their office to gain every edge to win games. It’s like a teenager getting busted for drinking.
Because everybody else is doing it, right?
“He’s worked his tail off,” Foley said. “You think of what he’s rebuilt. He built one at Bowling Green, he built one at Utah, he built one here. It’s not just sacrifices here the last six years.”
Rarely do you here someone talk about how they don’t work hard. Everyone works hard, so they tell war stories of late nights, sleeping in their office and missing birthdays.
Parcells, Gibbs, Vermeil, Magini, Belichick. They’ve all talked about burning the candle at both ends. Jon Gruden was notorious for going on three hours sleep.
If this is Meyer leaving to recharge his batteries or secretly go after an NFL job, he’s a gutless individual, preying on the hearts and minds of his family that he says he loves. They will know where they stand if he takes another job within the next two or three years. 
There’s nothing wrong with that. Everyone is entitled to live their life and pursue what makes them happy. But there is something wrong with duping your own family into believing you care more about them than yourself.
There is another side to this, of course. Meyer could leave and become what his press conference clips said – a better husband and father. 
Maybe Meyer never returns to coaching, or he comes back in seven or eight years. He’d still be relatively young and could give some school or team a decade of work after having given his family a decade of repayment for all he’s missed. 
The guilt would at least be gone.
Bill Cowher left coaching to be with his family and it’s stuck far longer than anyone anticipated. Dean Smith retired and that was it, he was gone. Same for athletes like Barry Sanders. Not everyone has to be Brett Favre. So maybe there is hope for Urban Meyer. Maybe this last year was just the sign he needed to know that his heart wasn’t in it any longer.
Now, a 7-5 record in the SEC, rumors about Cam Newton’s departure and no Tim Tebow might help nudge that process along, but still.
Of course, there is another option. Maybe not for Meyer, but for others. 
You could take the Tony Dungy route. Dungy always walked around to all his coaches and told them when it was time to call it a day. It can wait until tomorrow. Go home to your family. Be a father and a husband. Then, come back and get to work on film and schemes tomorrow.
There is a tomorrow.
Unless you burn yourself out and retire today, get a good night’s sleep and find a new job next Tuesday.
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The Tao of Quarterbacks

One minute, you are the star, the savior and everybody’s hero.
Sometimes, literally the next minute you’re a buffoon, a joke, a quitter, a loser and no one wants to be in the same room as you.
Such is the life of an NFL quarterback.
Take Vince Young, for example. Once upon a time, he led the Texas Longhorns to the BCS National Title over highly touted USC. After being drafted by Tennessee, the Titans enjoyed some initial success with Young. Then came the well-documented meltdown where Young reportedly was in a deep depression and left the team for a short time.
Returning to the starting lineup in Week 8 last season, Young led the Titans on an incredible 8-2 run to finish 8-8 after a 0-6 start. He hadn’t started a game in a year and a half, yet his intangibles and gutty performances brought him back from the depths of despair, both of the NFL and real-life variety.
This summer, he had a cover and full-spread in ESPN The Magazine, talking about his rebirth. It seemed genuine.
Then it all came crashing down. Following yesterday’s 19-16 loss to the Washington Redskins, Titans coach Jeff Fisher informed the media Young had lost his starting job. The comments followed a game in which Young was booed, injured his thumb and then ended with him throwing his shoulder pads into the stands, storming without talking to the media and reportedly verbally quitting on his coach following the game.
When the team gathered in the locker room following the loss, Young began muttering and cursing under his breath as Fisher addressed the team, the Tennessean reported Sunday night.
After Fisher asked Young to be quiet, the paper said, the quarterback finished dressing and prepared to leave the room. Fisher told Young to stop and not to “run out on your teammates,” sources told The Tennessean. Young told Fisher, “I’m not running out on my teammates, I’m running out on you,” the paper said.
Well, this just got awkward.
Look, when you’re reborn and claim your older, better prepared and more mature than you were before, wouldn’t you think the first time you face real adversity you would, I don’t know, maybe not mutter, curse and bad-mouth your coach during his post-game chat? How about not walking out on your team? Why fuel the fire by leaving this all up in the air, to the point we’re wondering if he’s going AWOL again?
Peter King commented today that it’s known that Young is a 9-to-5 quarterback who doesn’t work his craft or show the same commitment and dedication as his teammates.
What is it about quarterbacks, or maybe Young in general, that make them seem so needy? It seems Young and Fisher have had a soap opera quality to their relationship for the last few years.
Is it the pressure? The situations? The media induced pressure and situations? Sometimes, it feels like these guys need CAT scans.
But even then, we might not figure them out.
Take Brett Favre for instance. Once upon a time, Favre was the wildly popular quarterback of the Green Bay Packers. The Ironman of the NFL. The old gunslinger (and that wasn’t said with a derogatory tone).
Then he went all “Hell hath no fury like a QB scorned” on Green Bay and played for the New York Jets, then the last two seasons with the Minnesota Vikings. People clearly grew tired of the drama from a 40-year-old grown man with gray hair. His yearly retirement sagas have left us bitter at Brett and now his accomplishments are an after-thought.
At least that’s what I was thinking watching his press conference following yesterday’s 31-3 loss to the Packers.
Here was a man who’s started more games than anyone in NFL history at the most crucial position.
Here was a man who’s thrown for more yards and touchdowns than any player before him.
And here was a man who appeared to be bitter himself, tired and mostly stunned it didn’t work out.
For all intent and purposes, the Vikings are done and so is Favre. And he seemed genuinely shocked by this. Even when he said he knew when he came back this season there was a much better chance the Vikings didn’t make the Super Bowl or even the NFC Championship, as they had last season, the way the words rolled off the tongue and the way you read his body language and his eyes, you couldn’t tell if he really believed it.
Now Favre is caught in a scandal that’s died down (the phone pics) only because the woman in question wouldn’t work with the NFL on the investigation. And he’s remembered more the past few seasons as the old gunslinger (in a negative way) – too many times throwing away winnable games or close ones because he tried to thread the needle or missed his target or misread the coverage.
Is it ego? What makes a man believe that the Football Gods are always going to smile down on him? Because they always did before? Favre comes off as someone who thought they loved and enjoyed their life and the game, but hit 35 and suddenly realized they hadn’t appreciated it and it was slipping away.
The problem with sports and especially the NFL for these guys is that it isn’t real life. You have a window, a shelf life and that’s it. If you screw up a relationship with a family member or friends, there’s always time until the very end of your life or theirs to reconcile those emotions. With sports, it’s just not that way. In a flash, it’s over.
That’s not to make sports or the NFL bigger than they are – it’s not our problem stars can’t realize how great they have it, but it can be marginalized in the “vast scheme of things” category.
One day, Favre will be revered for his time in the NFL. His game will go up in the ring of honor at Lambeau and he’ll be in the Hall of Fame. Right now, however, he just looks like an old dude who can’t give it up and who clearly wants the Sunday lights without needing to work out with his teammates in the spring and summer.
I couldn’t help but think, watching him yesterday, he got what he deserved this season. And yet I still felt bad for him.
Almost the complete opposite reaction occurred watching Peyton Manning’s post-game presser. Strained look, veins bulging out of his forehead, wiping his brow – Manning looked beyond frustrated.
His Indianapolis Colts had thought they buried the New England Patriots. In some ways, they had. The Colts were 5-1 in their last six games against Belichick and Brady’s team, including 2-0 in Foxboro.
Yet there was Manning, on a cold November Sunday in New England, throwing three interceptions and failing to beat the Patriots on the road. You could hear the excuses: too many injuries for the Colts, a bad defense, terrible officiating. But for once, Peyton didn’t buy it.
And he shouldn’t.
These weren’t the diabolical, mastermind Patriots just eviscerating the Colts. It was a similar team – banged out, young or old receivers, rookie tight ends, a wishy-wash defense that comes and goes.
After the game, Manning admitted his last interception, the one that sealed it for New England as the Colts were driving into the Red Zone and could have at least kicked the game-tying field goal, was his fault. He said he was mad at himself.
Good.
Too many times in the past, it’s appeared to be everyone else’s fault – either the officials, the weather, the idiot kicker or the offensive line’s protection.
Did the Colts beat the Patriots in historic fashion to reach and eventually win their first Super Bowl four years ago? Absolutely. But history is a funny thing and despite that one great moment, for the most part, Manning still has trouble with Belichick.
As someone who isn’t a Colts fan, or a particular fan of Manning’s, for the first time, I felt bad for him. As he stood there and had to hear more questions about Tom Brady, about their legacies, about who was better…it just looked like the guy could use a break.
After all, Manning had thrown for nearly 400 yards, brought his team back from a huge deficit and just came up short because he missed his target (much like Favre).
But at the end of the day, the Patriots won. Brady only threw for 186 yards and it looked like the Patriots were a more complete team – in some ways, the same old story. And that’s what we all remember – who won, right? You play to win the game, in the illustrious words of Herm Edwards.
Well, some guys do anyway. I can’t figure these quarterbacks out.
Problem is, I’m not sure they can figure themselves out, either.
One minute you’re a king, the next you’re a court jester.
(Sigh.)
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Dwayne Wade, Eric Spoelstra, LeBron James, Miami Heat, Phil Jackson, Scottie Pippen

The Heat’s Dis-Factor

Discombobulated. Disjointed. Disgusting.
Those are just a few of the words that were thrown around last night by NBA pundits and analysts after the LeBron James, Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh, the Miami Heat’s “Big Three,” lost their opener against the Boston Celtics, 88-80, on Tuesday night.
And anytime you’re “dis-“ anything, it’s not good. In fact, with all the dis-ing of the Heat, I have expected the old “Oregon Trail” game to pop up and alert us of someone succumbing to dysentery on the wagon trail.
Let’s not overreact here. It was one game. The trio played a grand total of three minutes together in preseason. As Heat head coach Eric Spoelstra said, it’s going to take time to work out the kinks.
“In practice, it looked a lot different than this,” Spoelstra said. “There is going to be a process with this. There’s a lot of expectations and a lot of pressure out there, but we have our own timetable, and we knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”
Hold that thought. We’ll come back to it.
James noted that it was like they were trying to be too unselfish, which was a concern last July when “The Decision” was announced – who’s going to defer, who’s the alpha dog, what are their roles?  For one night, there was no alpha dog, just an ugly display of three guys who used to be “The Man” on their respective teams trying to figure out their spots, find their rhythm and when they should attack or defer.
Before we write it off as a massive failure, as some are trying to do, let’s give it time. For example, James did take over the game for a stretch in the third quarter with both Paul Pierce (who was hurt momentarily, as he always is in a nationally televised game) and Wade out. He ended with 31 points. During that time, it was obvious – at least to me – that he was playing the Scottie Pippen role perfectly.
If that came off as an backhanded compliment, well, it was.
Pippen used to do that perfectly. Defer to Jordan, create for Jordan, himself and others, then when Jordan was resting, take over for stretches. That’s James true calling now. Play the point-forward, create, slash, post-up. In fact, he’s better, talent-wise, in that role than Pippen. Essentially, however, that’s what James is going to have to be to make it work in Miami.
People forget how good Pippen was. During the year Jordan was out in 1993-94, Pippen was an MVP candidate that led the Bulls to a 30-5 record at the All-Star break. He averaged 22 points, 9 rebounds, 6 assists and 3 steals per game. He was the All-Star MVP and though everyone remembers him that season for the freak-out during the Eastern Conference semifinals, when Pippen refused to play when Phil Jackson drew up a play for Toni Kukoc for the game winner, Pippen was basically what LeBron James was in Cleveland.
(Side note: Jackson doesn’t get enough blame for that issue. Pippen waited for years to be “The Man” and all that came with it, including plays for game winners in the playoffs draw up for him. Jackson slapped him in the face with the Kukoc play. Did Pippen overreact? Absolutely. Did Kukoc hit the shot, making Pippen look enough more foolish? Of course. But Jackson’s gotten a pass on the way he handled the situation for way too long.)
So we get it. It’s a work in progress. It will take time. As Wade said post-game, “Sorry if everyone thought we were going 82-0. It wasn’t going to happen.” His sarcasm aside, Wade is right.
Then why are people so…annoyed?
Perhaps it’s because we expected more from James. We are all witnesses, right? He’s the Chosen One. The King. And he chose to play with the best instead of beat the best. James is entitled to do what he wants, listen to whomever he wants and play wherever he wants. It’s his life, not ours.
Yet when you take on the role of Chosen One and tell people you’ve spoiled them with your play, you’re going to get backlash. When you host a special called “The Decision” and spurn Cleveland for the beaches and bright lights of Miami, you’re making those people recall all the hurt and pain of losing big games and championship and years of futility. To make matters worse, it was a stone’s throw from your hometown of Akron.
Is it partly our fault? Fine, we’ll take some of the blame for it. We want athletes to act a certain way and do certain things and they don’t, so we get mad and turn on them. We can say that we would have done differently, but maybe that’s just because none of us have the option, so it’s easy to say how professional and classy we would have been.
I can tell you right now, without hesitation, if three or four of my friends and I played in the NBA and had a chance to join the same team, I would do it in a second. I play in a Y-League each winter with five good friends, who all played college ball, and we never had the opportunity to play real games together, due to the high schools or colleges we went to or our ages. It’s small potatoes compared to this, but we’ve won by 30 or more every time we step on the court. It’s really not fair, but it’s a hell of a lot of fun.
Though the talent difference and situation are not relatable, the feeling completely is. When you break it down like that, I’m not only a witness, but probably a hypocrite. We want to see Magic vs. Bird, Jordan vs. Magic, etc. We don’t want James and Wade against Kobe. It just doesn’t seem like a real slugfest, superstar vs. superstar, so therefore we feel cheated. And that makes us not like James very much right now.
That’s silly, I admit. The man can do what he wants. And our selfish reasons for wanting true greatness and the next Jordan are a part of this animosity and venom we have for James.
But there’s another part, the part where James isn’t helping himself. The latest Nike ad, for example. Is it cool? Oh yeah – a minute and a half of pure retaliation to all the haters. Eating a donut, winking and saying, “Hi Chuck” – and obvious nod to Charles Barkley, who called “The Decision” a punk move. It’s basically a sarcastic “What Should I Have Done Differently?” to the masses and for a little while, you kind of feel sorry for what James has gone through.
Then you remember: he brought this on himself. Though the whole process, the recruitment, the comments, “The Decision” and even what could be termed “The Unveiling,” when Wade, James and Bosh all donned Heat uniforms, posed, high-fived Miami fans and did a little press junket in July – James has gulped up and enjoyed nearly everything until “The Backlash.”
James has selfish reasons too. And he’s allowed. Just remember, the more he plays into it and continues to even respond, the longer it will take for people to get over it and just watch this team mesh in a possibly better overall version of Jordan, Pippen and Rodman. It won’t be easy, as Spoelstra said. It shouldn’t be easy, championships are supposed to be hard. And that was our original problem with James taking the easy way out.
We wanted to witness the struggle and the resolve to win a title as an alpha dog. But that’s our problem. 
James’ and his cohorts problem will be to not play this up as something larger or more challenging than it is. They can’t make this seem like some great struggle to gel together, find their roles and win. It may take some time, but it shouldn’t take until February. We’ll deal with this “poor us, we have to learn to play together” attitude, but only for a short time. The Heat really should be good and fun to watch. Watching James become the greatest distributor and creator in a hybrid Pippen/Magic Johnson role should be fun. The joy is in watching that transition.
If we can’t enjoy watching all of that happen with James and the Heat and all we’re waiting for is a train wreck because we want to witness the downfall, well, at that point, there’s another “dis-“ word in mind.
Disinterested.
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Sudden Impact

The NFL could soon start suspending players for dangerous helmet-to-helmet hits, vice president of football operations Ray Anderson told The Associated Press on Monday.
After a Sunday of violent hits and concussion inducing collisions, Anderson said the league might need to do more than fining players to prevent such hits.
“There’s strong testimonial for looking readily at evaluating discipline, especially in the areas of egregious and elevated dangerous hits,” he said in a phone interview. “Going forward there are certain hits that occurred that will be more susceptible to suspension. There are some that could bring suspensions for what are flagrant and egregious situations.”
Anderson said the NFL could make changes in its approach immediately, with Commissioner Roger Goodell having the final say. League officials will consult with the union, but he didn’t expect any opposition.
Philadelphia Eagles’ wide receiver DeSean Jackson and Dunta Robinson of the Atlanta Falcons’ were knocked out on the same play after a helmet-to-helmet collision, while Pittsburgh Steelers linebacker James Harrison sidelined two Cleveland Browns players with head injuries after jarring hits.
“The fundamentally old way of wrapping up and tackling seems to have faded away,” Anderson said. “A lot of the increase is from hits to blow guys up. That has become a more popular way of doing it. Yes, we are concerned they are getting away from the fundamentals of tackling, and maybe it has been coached that way. We’re going to have to look into talking to our coaches.”
Retired safety Rodney Harrison, now an analyst for NBC, was fined more than $200,000 during his career and was suspended for one game in 2002 for a helmet-to-helmet hit.
“You didn’t get my attention when you fined me 5 grand, 10 grand, 15 grand,” he said during the “Sunday Night Football” broadcast. “You got my attention when I got suspended and I had to get away from my teammates and I disappointed my teammates from not being there. But you have to suspend these guys. These guys are making millions of dollars.”
If no one else will say it, Hall of Fame wide receiver Cris Carter will: how do you want the players to hit, then? In the knees? In the chest? They already are.
If you watch most of – repeat, most of – the hits that have caused a stir or drawn a fine over the last decade, most players lowered their shoulders and hit for the chest, in order to separate the man from the ball – as they had been taught. Yes, some players lead with their helmet – and those players are fined and suspended, rightfully.
But a player hitting the same way as they always have doesn’t beg legislation from the league. Something wrong happened that rarely does – a bad angle, too much or too little speed by one of the players involved. Carter said on ESPN’s Mike & Mike In The Morning that perhaps Jackson’s concussion was caused by him going too fast across the middle against a zone defense.
So should we have a no speeding zone in the middle of the field?
I, for one, never got riled up during the big push to protect quarterbacks in recent years. Stationary players standing upright and unprepared while someone tees off on them at full speed is just dumb. But moving players are going to collide.
Here’s the dirty little secret over the not-so-new issue regarding hard hits and concussions in football: we really don’t care, and kind of like it, as long as it’s not us or one of our favorite players.
There’s really no denying it. It’s one of the joys of football – hard hits.
Sound crass? C’mon, get off your high horse.
Tell me, how many of you haven’t shrieked in delight or let out an “OOOOHHHHHH” watching a replay of some guy getting de-cleated? There’s a segment on ESPN’s “Monday Night Football” pregame show called “Jacked Up!” where the studio crew watch some plays, laugh and shout, “You got jacked up!”
And you’re telling me we don’t celebrate the big hit?
There was an NFL video game for year’s called “Blitz.” The very premise of the game was hits. The sounds from the game were always bone-crushing noises and grunts on every play. Late hits and pass interference were allowed. Players often performed wrestling moves during the tackles. Literally. Like, body slams, leg drops, elbow drops, flying kicks to the face and DDTs. “Blitz” was basically made as a cross between Mortal Kombat, the NFL and NBA Jam’s video game series.
It was also one of the most popular and successful sports video game chains.
What relevance does this have to the discussion? Well, for decades we’ve celebrated football’s violence and gladiator style combat, while turning around and displaying shock and sadness when something bad inevitably happens.
They same guys jovially conversing about who got “Jacked up!” worse suddenly get somber and stoic when the topic turns to those same violent hits ending careers or the players suffering concussions. There is concern in their voices and it’s often addressed in hushed tones.
Many former players, like Carter, say it’s just a part of the game and a football reality. Carter’s suggestion: widen the field. Give the bigger, stronger, faster athletes of the modern area more freedom to move and create space.
You know what the next discussion would be, right? How much scoring is up, how it is too hard to tackle anyone and how football has lost some of its edge.
Watching replays at halftime of Indianapolis Colts – Washington Redskins game on “Sunday Night Football,” you could have heard me laughing three houses down as the kicker for the Seattle Seahawks got whacked like he’d wiped out on a wake board during Devin Hester’s return for a touchdown.
My son was watching the highlights with me. He just completed his first year of tackle football – and he played quite well, earning a selection to the All-Star team. He laughed at the silly kicker flying backward, too.
Just about an hour later, after my son had long been in bed, I wasn’t laughing anymore.
The Colts Joseph Addai had just taken a nasty hit (about the 10th NFL player of the day to take one). Addai’s was one of those where the player falls straight to the ground without moving on the way down, resembling the Apollo Creed death scene in “Rocky IV.”
He didn’t move for what felt like an eternity. When he finally did and the training staff had Addai back on his feet, he had that look of a stumbling drunk, eyes dazed and lids slowly moving up and down. Redskins linebacker London Fletcher, who had delivered the hit, tried to check on Addai the entire time he was being helped off the field.
NBC cameras showed Fletcher’s face perfectly clear: scared and regretful. You could tell he felt terrible.
So did I.
Down the hall slept an eight-year-old boy with some bruises on his arms and legs from two months of football, who hit hard and always got up. He still has six games left for All-Stars. Terrified, I thought about what if my son was the one on the receiving end. What if he was the one “jacked up”? I certainly wouldn’t be laughing.
I want him to play football as long as he wants to.
But, I’m too afraid we’re going to have to watch someone die on the field. Too afraid my son would see it and it would somehow affect the way he plays or approaches the game. Too afraid, of something I can’t even write.
You always hear there’s no room for fear in the game of football. And there isn’t.
But the room left absent by fear shouldn’t be filled with the darkness of disabilities, concussions and life-altering hits.
We can find some kind of room in the middle, can’t we?
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