As we transition from the college gridiron to college hardwood, the question which gets asked most-often is:
"Who will be this winter's J-Mac?"
Sure, the new season of "American Idol" begins next week, but, more important for America is the re-connecting with the way we all felt a mere 11 months ago when we all allowed the tears to flow freely down our cheeks when ESPN firestormed us with that videotape of the Greece Athena High b-ball coach pimping his autistic team manager, Jason McElwain.
You remember: J-Mac missed his first shot -- but then his shooting touch warmed up ... and he warmed our hearts by sinking six 3-pointers in those final minutes against Spencerport.
But, then ... J-Mac wasn't allowed to play ever again.
Greece Athena's best shooter ... the team's most-prolific scorer (20 points in four minutes) ... had to sit out the playoffs.
J-Mac met the President.
J-Mac signed over his life story to Magic Johnson.
J-Mac -- although physically able and definitely more "capable" than most of his teammates -- was in street clothes for the playoffs
J-Mac became a "DNP - coach's decision."
Apparently, J-Mac's coach felt that because of J-Mac's mental retardation or spasticism (or whatever he has), the J-Mac's story was cute for one game.
If he was to play another game, though, J-Mac might've gotten "in the way."
After all, J-Mac had taken away valuable playing time away from another, yet undiagnosed, retard/spastic on the Greece Athena bench.
"Go back to handing out towels, jumpin' 'round like a spastic, ya freak show. We got us a state championship to win!"
Some of us thought we'd found a prime candidate for "J-Mac '07" when we were inside the Comcast Center in the final days of '06 and a nobody (the 13th player on Coach Gary Williams' Maryland Terrapins bench) named Jason McAlpin did his best Jason McElwain and buried two 3-pointers in the final minute of a 101-50 victory over Missouri-Kansas City.
The visiting UMKC Kangaroos seemed especially pleased that McAlpin chucked in that final 3 at the buzzer, mostly because a 101-50 loss looks neater and more tidy than a 98-50 massacre.
Seriously, though ... the only way McAlpin pulling a McElwain and nailing a 3 at the buzzer would've been more satisfying is if that shot had been made by a student in a wheelchair.
Or by a 62-year-old booster who had hip replacement surgery two months ago.
When did America lose touch with its hip-replacement populace?
So ... where are you, J-MAC '07?
Are you out there?
Who will be J-MAC '07? Who will dare put his (or her) b-ball program on the map, as t J-Mac did when he showed us the never-say-die spirit of suburban Rochesterians?
Who will take "Autism Awareness Week" and condense it into a 5-minute, feel-good video package, so that we can get back to conquering real diseases, such as shop-a-holicism?
ESPN's penchant for star-making -- vis-a-vis Jason McElwain's transition from weird dude with a weird affliction to "Jumpin' Jack J-Mac" -- was a triumph for everyone involved.
Mostly for the retards and the spastics (or whatever they are).
As a public service, ESPN created "an awareness" -- and America responded. You can't hardly go to a playground for a pickup game and NOT hear health-related afflictions intermingled as part of the lexicon of blacktop trash-talk.
"You know I got me some bad Downs Syndrome ... 'cuz when you're guarding me, I shoot -- and it's down!"
"I'm gonna go all spinal meningitis on yo' ass, dawg!"
"If you're thinkin' 'bout takin' this one to the rack, I'm gonna be on you like cystic on fibrosis, play-yuh!"
We're not so sure that the second one makes any sense.
But, that's not the point.
The name of the game is saving lives by creating awareness.
There's a lot of kids out there who aren't "functioning" autistics ... and those losers do things such as not speaking and maybe pounding their foreheads against a wall for an hour.
In other words, they aren't winners who can score 20 points in four minutes like Jumpin' Jack J-Mac.
They are children of a lesser god,
Unfortunately, J-Mac '06 isn't playin' college b-ball anywhere, so we'll need a fresh face as J-Mac '07.
That new talent definitely will not be coming from the George Mason vs. UNC-Wilmington game from a few nights ago.
UNCW was unable to score 20 points in four minutes (like J-Mac) -- but the Seahawks did manage to score TWO baskets in the game's first 20 minutes ... in a 55-34 Colonial Athletic Association loss to Mason, the Cindy Relish Story of last season's NCAA tourney.
The Seahawks, bless their hearts, went 2 of 23 from the floor in the first half and 8 of 26 in the second half -- a pretty lame showing for a team which actually beat Mason late last season.
It's not easy to forget how UNCW won our hearts in the NCAA tourney five years ago -- when the Seahawks gor some national recognition for body-slamming a quote-unquote "supposedly more-talented" team from the University of Southern California.
The only thing better than remembering how it looked on TV when Stewart Hare knifed between three 'SC players and threw down that nasty two-handed dunk is to look at the photo of that moment ... which just so happens to be right here.
Sam Clancy sure got bitched on that one.
USC basketball, though ... it just ain't happ'nin'.
On the other hand, George Mason '07 won't be a factor -- unless the term "Geroge Mason" is used in the following manner:
"Who is THIS year's George Mason?"
"Was Boise State's football victory in the Fiesta Bowl a CinderFella Story comparable to George Mason's run last season?"
Yeah ... probably.
And, "no" ... let's not rule out Jason McAlpin as J-MAC '07 to Jason McElwain's J-MAC '06. Just last week, McAlpin made a contribution during garbage time during the Terps' 88-57 romp over 0-12 Iona.
True to form, McAlpin chucked up a 3 during the final minute, although he missed with 32 seconds to play and the Terps ahead by 31.
Check yer math: J-Mac '07 is 2 for 2 on 3-balls when the Terps are winning by 40 points, but 0 for 1 on treys when the Terps are up by 30.
Make a mental note of that.
Speaking of funky math, just a few nights ago against Miami, the Terps went 6 of 23 on 3-balls and 7 of 35 on two-pointers.
Combined, that's 22 percent from the floor -- and that's where it gets queer because, despite shooting 22 percent and despite getting killed on the boards (50-39), the Terps lost by only 5 points.
Go figure.
It'll be a kooky b-ball season as we await the arrival of J-Mac '07.
It's not an easy sport to understand. For example, in the Jan. 8 edition of The Sporting News, b-ball writer Mike DeCourcy opened his feature on K-State's Bill Walker with (no lie) the following lead paragraph:
"Bill Walker is ... een uiterst begaafde basketbalspeler maar succes in het universiteitsspel komt niet zonder moeite. Hij begint slechts nu met het proces groot te worden."
If your Dutch is rusty, then you should try German.
"Wunschen Sie einen gestreifen oder einen karierten Schlafanzug? Auf dem Balkon ist es sehr windig. Die Gewerkschaft hat ihre Ziele erreicht. Die Anderung des Gesetzes stieB bei vielen Burgern auf Widerstand. Bringen Sie mir bitte Wurtschen mit Kartoffelsalat und Senf. Wenn Ihnen die Grundlage der deutschen Grammatik fehlt, sollten Sie einen Anfangerkurs besuchen."
(Translation: Would you like striped or checked pajamas? It's very windy on the balcony. The union achieved its objectives. The change in the law met with opposition from many people. I'd like sausages with potato salad and mustard. If you haven't mastered the fundamentals of German grammar, you should attend a course for beginners.)
Such disturbing messages means that it's probably time to conduct open tryouts to see if there's any dyslexic diabetics who can give us 25 points in five minutes.
Any amputees feeling up to the task of executing a reverse jam?
Friday, January 12, 2007
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
HOF Voting For Dummies: GAVVY CRAVATH In; EPPA RIXEY Out
During two separate "we've-just-been-inducted-to-Cooperstown" press conferences (held on opposite coasts) by Cal Ripken, Jr. and Tony Gwynn yesterday, two obvious questions sprang to mind.
1) Why is Ripken's face somewhat puffy and mis-shapen?
2) And who stole Cal's eyebrows?
OK ... so both of those questions focus heavily on the Iron Man's facial features and, as such, don't deal with the heaviness that is Tony Gwynn.
Nevertheless, somebody shoulda asked Cal if he's on Prednisone or something.
He's starting to look bizarre -- and we don't mean "bizarre" in the dignified, chain-smoking manner in which Cal Sr. aged.
Cal's balloon face and Gwynn's blimp-ish physique notwithstanding, a physical characteristic such as "enlargement" is why one big body won't be a trio inducted to Cooperstown in late July.
Mighty Mac -- or whatever it is they called that aircraft carrier from the late '90s -- won't be enshrined this summer (or possibly ever), all because hypocritical fat slobs w/ frighteningly-jagged teeth named "Bill Conlin" have decided what is good for America.
And, as always ... for America's children.
All kidding aside, the only difference between Bill Conlin and John Wayne Gacy is the number of murdered boys' corpses in the crawl space under the house and, oh yeah ... John Wayne Gacy was a sloppy dresser, but, on his worst day, he was 15 times more-nattily attired than Bill Conlin on Bill's best day.
We at This Planet have done our best to not so much "attack" but, rather, "scrutinize" the circus freak show which is the voting body for the Pro Football Hall of Fame ("U-Shaped Logic," Jan. '06) and the douches who cast ballots for The MLB's Hall of Fame -- character assassinations revealed in "Whole Hall Overhaul: The Eviction of Eppa Rixey" (8/7/06) and "Tall Tales" (9/24/06), the latter, a fun-filled adventure with bonus "Rips On Rixey" thanks to a modern-day Baltimore Sun writer who tried to enlighten America about a pitcher who retired more than 70 years ago.
For reasons outlined in those three blogs which captivated America, the HOFs in Canton and in Cooperstown are uncategorically null and void. In other words, the Winter X Games Hall of Fame (which exists "here," he said, pointing to his head) is more legit.
Seriously, how can it be a Hall of "FAME" when numbnutted dumbsh*ts are doin' the votin'?
Cooperstown "enshrined" Cristobal Torriente last summer (as part of the 17 Negro Leaguers who were ushered in ... while Buck O'Neil was not), but that pencilneck Mike Stupidca (who moonlights on The World's Strongest Man Network) forgot to inform America if Cristobal Torriente was a boozehound who once stabbed a man while he was raping that man's wife.
That's the word on the street.
The thing is, claiming Mark McGwire gobbled up 'roids has as much basis in fact as implying that Bill Conlin -- with his jagged teeth and five rolls of flab under his chin -- had a habit of lingering for a very long time near the Phillies' shower room any time Gregg Jefferies was in there.
"Is that a Bic pen in your trousers, Bill, or are ya just glad to get an interview with me?"
We don't know if Mighty Mac mainlined 'roids or HGH -- and, as far as that "circumstantial evidence" is concerned, well ... do we have to re-visit the "Gacy v. Conlin" paragraph again?
The BBWAA ... playing computer solitaire on their laptops during the 5th inning of another Brewers-Royals interleague game.
Yup, America definitely needs those decision-makers determining who receives baseball, as it were, "immortality."
Hell, yes ... McGwire deserves to go in.
Bonds, too.
And, Canseco.
That's based on a combination of factors: A) Who's already in and B) Who's doin' the votin' nowadays.
Too many shady characters already call Cooperstown home -- and, on top of that, 98.3 percent of the guys who vote were all cut from their JV baseball team in high school.
They are still sooooo very bitter about that.
So, when Bonds goes yard, the undercurrent is, "How dare he!"
For some of us, the fact that McGwire, Bonds and Canseco all were likely unfaithful to their wives at some point is a greater offense than being a junkie, given the fact that the Bible (New Testament or Old, either way) is a higher authority than any collective bargaining agreement which -- "sing it together!" -- never tested for anabolic steroids, etc ...
Moreover, maybe more influential than "performance enhancers" at The MLB level during the McGwire/Bonds/Canseco era were: A) Expansion B) Bats filled with weapons-grade plutonium C) Balls filled with uranium
Factor "A)" is not to be dismissed. Once the Marlins, Rockies, D-Backs and D-Rays opened for business in the '90s, what it created was 40-45, major-league-level openings for pitchers with minor-league-level talent.
That's just the basic math.
Or didja forget the 50 homers hit by Greg Vaughn in '98?
And, to reiterate a common-sense theme, it might not be a bad idea to de-enshrine anywhere from one dozen to two dozen ballplayers with hilarious, make-believe stats -- overrated stiffs such as Old Hoss Radbourn, who, with the 1884 Providence Grays, was 59-12 (with 73 starts and 73 complete games), but, with the 1886 Boston Beaneaters, was 27-31.
Don't get too comfy, great-great-grandchildren of Pud Galvin. Your great-great-grandpappy really put up the numbers for the ol' Buffalo Bisons (46-29 with 72 complete games in 1883 and 46-22 with 71 complete games in 1884), but that 16-26 record in 1885 can’t be ignored.
He's out.
A de-enshrinee.
The papers for his UNduction are being drafted right now.
Which takes us right back to the most-difficult choice amongst the de-enshrined UNductees ... our pal, Eppa Rixey.
We already know about his simply MEDIOCRE won-loss record for the Phillies (an average won-loss record of 9-11 in nine seasons) and the Redlegs (an average won-loss 17-13 in nine seasons).
But, the fact that Eppa Rixey died in Feb. 1963 means that he might've learned about his election, but passed before the induction ceremony.
And, now, he's not here to defend his flimsy stats with during this painful UNduction process.
Maybe he shoulda thought about that before he blew Game 5 of the 1915 World Series against the Red Sox when, while pitching in relief, was entrusted with a 4-2 Phillies lead -- only to surrender a game-tying, 2-run homer to Duffy Lewis in the top of the 8th and then serving up the tiebreaking solo homer to Harry Hooper (his second of the game) in the top of the 9th, thus clinching the World Series title for the team from the Fens.
Sure, Harry Hooper is a Hall of Famer (for now ... until we de-enshrine him, maybe next year ... or the year after that ... in the class of UNductees with Phil Rizzuto and Tommy Lasorda), but Eppa Rixey couldn't lay off the hooch long enough to make quality pitches to Harry Hooper.
Prior to that fateful Game 5, Harry Hooper had hit only two homers all season.
Now, before anyone thinks we're playuh-hatin' on Eppa and Old Hoss and Pud, let's think about enshrining Gavvy.
Exactly ... Clifford Carlton Cravath -- everybody called him "Gavvy" (or "Cactus") -- had one helluva 1915 season for the Phillies. In the Triple Crown categories, he had 24 HRs, 115 ribbies and a .285 average. Two seasons earlier, his Triple Crown numbers were 19 / 128 / .341 ... quite excellent, given the deadball era in which he played.
In fact, six times in the seven seasons of 1913 thru 1919, Gavvy Cravath led the N.L. in homers, so, yes ... we can say that he was baseball's first legitimate longball threat.
It was Gavvy's career record for homers (119) which Babe Ruth broke during his second of back-to-back monster seasons in 1920 and 1921 ... during the lively ball era.
Like Eppa Rixey, Gavvy Cravath died in 1963 -- only he must've smoked too much reefer and banged too many under-aged boys because the Bill Conlins and Mike Stupidcas of that era didn't extend him any HOF love.
The Bambino could've fornicated with a goat in the Yankees dugout because, well ... he's the Bambino.
"Mr. Ruth, will you sign my goat?"
Luckily, Ripken saved The MLB in '95 when he broke Lou Gehrig's 2,130 consecutive game streak, but it was Mighty Mac and Sammie Sofa and their Home Run Derby of '98 which "re-saved" the sport and made the children re-connect with the Bambino.
And Stupidca gave an intense tongue bath to Mac's balls long enough to rake in some $$$ for writing a book about those Homer Wars of '98 re-saved the sport.
That is, until the Yankees (in conjunction with the NYPD and the FDNY) rescued the nation with the '01 World Series following 9/11.
Until the Red Sox re-re-saved the sport with their '04 breaking of The Curse.
The two moments of Ripken's career which will last the longest in some of our minds are his 400th HR and his final game and the final AB which never happened because of Braindead Anderson.
For those of us who sitting there in a field box in Section 18 (we think ... free tix, so what the hey, right?) on Sept. 2, 1999, we remember not so much that Cal, in his second AB, lined a fastball (we think) from Tampa Bay's Rolando Arrojo into Section 76 in LF -- but rather that the ball glanced off someone's hand and into some guy's face, breaking that guy's nose.
And, that guy did NOT wind up with the milestone HR baseball.
That was amusing enough, but our funny bone was tickled further when we read the Sun's account of the milestone HR the next day.
There aren't many things better in journalism than when an athlete says something and the quote is printed differently in the "gamer" than the way it appears in the "sidebar."
Typical of the Sun, Ripken's quotes got mangled (that particular sports section is in a box around here somewhere), so the reader never knows if when Cal says, "I was happy to get a clutch hit at that point in the game," if it'll appear in print as "I'm pleased that I hit the ball well" or "What a delight to homer in that situation."
Good sh*t ... great reading.
For when you're seated on the throne ...
Odd thing about the quotable Ripken ... he had a penchant for referring to himself in the second person.
No, not the third person with something like, "Cal Ripken was happy to get a clutch hit at that point in the game."
More like, "You're always happy to get a clutch hit at that point in the game you're playing."
Or if he's describing the pitch he hit, Cal might say, "You're looking for a fastball right there when you're ahead in the count, so when you get it, you're happy that you hit it well."
Cal took that "No 'I' In Team" maybe a bit too far.
As for his farewell game, it was the final game of the '01 season. The O's were getting handled by the Red Sox, 5-1, with one out to go, a runner on base and Braindead Anderson in the box with Ripken on deck.
Bosox pitcher Ugueth Urbina ran the count full to Brandy, but, for those fans in the ballpark or those of us watching at home on TV, we all knew that if there was a borderline, two-strike pitch, Brandy could keep the bat on his shoulder because there was NO WAY home plate ump Eric Cooper would ring up the batter on a called third strike with the stadium abuzz with the thought of Ripken coming up for one final AB.
Well, we don't call him "Braindead" Anderson because he's a heads-up player.
He swung and missed to end the game.
Apparently, Braindead had to hustle over to GNC to get some "supplements" so he could do 5,000 curls and 1,000 leg-presses before bedtime.
Then, it's time for a shower ... maybe skim through a few pgs. of Playgirl ... and then it's lights out ...
Speaking of vintage, season-ending strikeouts, there's one of Mighty Mac which'll stick with America for a long time.
It was in Game 5 of the '01 NLDS ... a loser-go-home scenario ... and, in the top of the 9th inning and a runner at first in a 1-1 game against the D-Backs, La Loser pinch-hit for McGwire, who had struck out in each of his previous three trips against Curt Schilling.
Kerry Robinson was summoned to bunt the runner into scoring position.
The D-Backs, though, won the game in the bottom of the 9th.
Surely, La Loser spent a few minutes on the postgame show discussing, "We needed to move the runner up, blah blah, blah ... Mark's a little banged-up, blah, blah, blah ..."
And, Tony Gwynn? That guy could roll out of bed and go 4 for 4.
Unless he felt like going 5 for 5.
Quality baserunner, great defensively ... damn shame, though, that we didn't get to see Gwynn could hit .400 in a season because The MLB walked out on us ("it's for the children ... and for their children's children") in Aug. '94 when Gwynn was batting .394.
In an exerpt from his '93 biography, "I Ain't An Athlete, Lady ...", John Kruk (as told to Paul Hagen) described one of his minor-league experiences thusly:
"I ate when it was time to eat. I ate when I was hungry. I ate and kept on gaining. I never really thought it was a problem until after my second year at Triple-A in Las Vegas; that's when they told me that if I didn't report to spring training the next year at 190 pounds, they weren't going to let me do anything until I had lost the weight. I'd be there, but all I'd do would be to work out with the trainer.
"So I stayed in Las Vegas and worked out at this clinic. I didn't eat anything. I starved myself. When it came time for the physical and the weigh-in, I was at 190 pounds exactly. They let me do what I had to do. I left for Yuma, Arizona, and spring training with Tony Gwynn; he'd had to lose weight, too.
"And we stopped at Wendy's on the way and had two big double cheeseburgers."
Outstanding.
The question is: Was that two big double cheeseburgers EACH?
The reason we ask is because when he goes to Wendy's, Bill Conlin orders three big double cheeseburgers (two-and-a-half for eating, one-half for spilling on his shirt and necktie).
Makes ya wonder what it was like for Eppa Rixey when he was with the 1922 Redlegs and he was on road trips with catchers Bubbles Hargrave and Ivey Wingo and fellow pitcher Cactus Keck.
They didn't have a Wendy's back then -- but, surely the cooks at the local diner fired up as many double cheeseburgers as Eppa, Bubbles, Ivey and Cactus could consume.
Cristobal Torriente?
He had to go a lunch counter when they served "dem cull-uhh-ed boys."
If only there'd been androstinedione back then.
Not to mention Civil Rights legislation ...
1) Why is Ripken's face somewhat puffy and mis-shapen?
2) And who stole Cal's eyebrows?
OK ... so both of those questions focus heavily on the Iron Man's facial features and, as such, don't deal with the heaviness that is Tony Gwynn.
Nevertheless, somebody shoulda asked Cal if he's on Prednisone or something.
He's starting to look bizarre -- and we don't mean "bizarre" in the dignified, chain-smoking manner in which Cal Sr. aged.
Cal's balloon face and Gwynn's blimp-ish physique notwithstanding, a physical characteristic such as "enlargement" is why one big body won't be a trio inducted to Cooperstown in late July.
Mighty Mac -- or whatever it is they called that aircraft carrier from the late '90s -- won't be enshrined this summer (or possibly ever), all because hypocritical fat slobs w/ frighteningly-jagged teeth named "Bill Conlin" have decided what is good for America.
And, as always ... for America's children.
All kidding aside, the only difference between Bill Conlin and John Wayne Gacy is the number of murdered boys' corpses in the crawl space under the house and, oh yeah ... John Wayne Gacy was a sloppy dresser, but, on his worst day, he was 15 times more-nattily attired than Bill Conlin on Bill's best day.
We at This Planet have done our best to not so much "attack" but, rather, "scrutinize" the circus freak show which is the voting body for the Pro Football Hall of Fame ("U-Shaped Logic," Jan. '06) and the douches who cast ballots for The MLB's Hall of Fame -- character assassinations revealed in "Whole Hall Overhaul: The Eviction of Eppa Rixey" (8/7/06) and "Tall Tales" (9/24/06), the latter, a fun-filled adventure with bonus "Rips On Rixey" thanks to a modern-day Baltimore Sun writer who tried to enlighten America about a pitcher who retired more than 70 years ago.
For reasons outlined in those three blogs which captivated America, the HOFs in Canton and in Cooperstown are uncategorically null and void. In other words, the Winter X Games Hall of Fame (which exists "here," he said, pointing to his head) is more legit.
Seriously, how can it be a Hall of "FAME" when numbnutted dumbsh*ts are doin' the votin'?
Cooperstown "enshrined" Cristobal Torriente last summer (as part of the 17 Negro Leaguers who were ushered in ... while Buck O'Neil was not), but that pencilneck Mike Stupidca (who moonlights on The World's Strongest Man Network) forgot to inform America if Cristobal Torriente was a boozehound who once stabbed a man while he was raping that man's wife.
That's the word on the street.
The thing is, claiming Mark McGwire gobbled up 'roids has as much basis in fact as implying that Bill Conlin -- with his jagged teeth and five rolls of flab under his chin -- had a habit of lingering for a very long time near the Phillies' shower room any time Gregg Jefferies was in there.
"Is that a Bic pen in your trousers, Bill, or are ya just glad to get an interview with me?"
We don't know if Mighty Mac mainlined 'roids or HGH -- and, as far as that "circumstantial evidence" is concerned, well ... do we have to re-visit the "Gacy v. Conlin" paragraph again?
The BBWAA ... playing computer solitaire on their laptops during the 5th inning of another Brewers-Royals interleague game.
Yup, America definitely needs those decision-makers determining who receives baseball, as it were, "immortality."
Hell, yes ... McGwire deserves to go in.
Bonds, too.
And, Canseco.
That's based on a combination of factors: A) Who's already in and B) Who's doin' the votin' nowadays.
Too many shady characters already call Cooperstown home -- and, on top of that, 98.3 percent of the guys who vote were all cut from their JV baseball team in high school.
They are still sooooo very bitter about that.
So, when Bonds goes yard, the undercurrent is, "How dare he!"
For some of us, the fact that McGwire, Bonds and Canseco all were likely unfaithful to their wives at some point is a greater offense than being a junkie, given the fact that the Bible (New Testament or Old, either way) is a higher authority than any collective bargaining agreement which -- "sing it together!" -- never tested for anabolic steroids, etc ...
Moreover, maybe more influential than "performance enhancers" at The MLB level during the McGwire/Bonds/Canseco era were: A) Expansion B) Bats filled with weapons-grade plutonium C) Balls filled with uranium
Factor "A)" is not to be dismissed. Once the Marlins, Rockies, D-Backs and D-Rays opened for business in the '90s, what it created was 40-45, major-league-level openings for pitchers with minor-league-level talent.
That's just the basic math.
Or didja forget the 50 homers hit by Greg Vaughn in '98?
And, to reiterate a common-sense theme, it might not be a bad idea to de-enshrine anywhere from one dozen to two dozen ballplayers with hilarious, make-believe stats -- overrated stiffs such as Old Hoss Radbourn, who, with the 1884 Providence Grays, was 59-12 (with 73 starts and 73 complete games), but, with the 1886 Boston Beaneaters, was 27-31.
Don't get too comfy, great-great-grandchildren of Pud Galvin. Your great-great-grandpappy really put up the numbers for the ol' Buffalo Bisons (46-29 with 72 complete games in 1883 and 46-22 with 71 complete games in 1884), but that 16-26 record in 1885 can’t be ignored.
He's out.
A de-enshrinee.
The papers for his UNduction are being drafted right now.
Which takes us right back to the most-difficult choice amongst the de-enshrined UNductees ... our pal, Eppa Rixey.
We already know about his simply MEDIOCRE won-loss record for the Phillies (an average won-loss record of 9-11 in nine seasons) and the Redlegs (an average won-loss 17-13 in nine seasons).
But, the fact that Eppa Rixey died in Feb. 1963 means that he might've learned about his election, but passed before the induction ceremony.
And, now, he's not here to defend his flimsy stats with during this painful UNduction process.
Maybe he shoulda thought about that before he blew Game 5 of the 1915 World Series against the Red Sox when, while pitching in relief, was entrusted with a 4-2 Phillies lead -- only to surrender a game-tying, 2-run homer to Duffy Lewis in the top of the 8th and then serving up the tiebreaking solo homer to Harry Hooper (his second of the game) in the top of the 9th, thus clinching the World Series title for the team from the Fens.
Sure, Harry Hooper is a Hall of Famer (for now ... until we de-enshrine him, maybe next year ... or the year after that ... in the class of UNductees with Phil Rizzuto and Tommy Lasorda), but Eppa Rixey couldn't lay off the hooch long enough to make quality pitches to Harry Hooper.
Prior to that fateful Game 5, Harry Hooper had hit only two homers all season.
Now, before anyone thinks we're playuh-hatin' on Eppa and Old Hoss and Pud, let's think about enshrining Gavvy.
Exactly ... Clifford Carlton Cravath -- everybody called him "Gavvy" (or "Cactus") -- had one helluva 1915 season for the Phillies. In the Triple Crown categories, he had 24 HRs, 115 ribbies and a .285 average. Two seasons earlier, his Triple Crown numbers were 19 / 128 / .341 ... quite excellent, given the deadball era in which he played.
In fact, six times in the seven seasons of 1913 thru 1919, Gavvy Cravath led the N.L. in homers, so, yes ... we can say that he was baseball's first legitimate longball threat.
It was Gavvy's career record for homers (119) which Babe Ruth broke during his second of back-to-back monster seasons in 1920 and 1921 ... during the lively ball era.
Like Eppa Rixey, Gavvy Cravath died in 1963 -- only he must've smoked too much reefer and banged too many under-aged boys because the Bill Conlins and Mike Stupidcas of that era didn't extend him any HOF love.
The Bambino could've fornicated with a goat in the Yankees dugout because, well ... he's the Bambino.
"Mr. Ruth, will you sign my goat?"
Luckily, Ripken saved The MLB in '95 when he broke Lou Gehrig's 2,130 consecutive game streak, but it was Mighty Mac and Sammie Sofa and their Home Run Derby of '98 which "re-saved" the sport and made the children re-connect with the Bambino.
And Stupidca gave an intense tongue bath to Mac's balls long enough to rake in some $$$ for writing a book about those Homer Wars of '98 re-saved the sport.
That is, until the Yankees (in conjunction with the NYPD and the FDNY) rescued the nation with the '01 World Series following 9/11.
Until the Red Sox re-re-saved the sport with their '04 breaking of The Curse.
The two moments of Ripken's career which will last the longest in some of our minds are his 400th HR and his final game and the final AB which never happened because of Braindead Anderson.
For those of us who sitting there in a field box in Section 18 (we think ... free tix, so what the hey, right?) on Sept. 2, 1999, we remember not so much that Cal, in his second AB, lined a fastball (we think) from Tampa Bay's Rolando Arrojo into Section 76 in LF -- but rather that the ball glanced off someone's hand and into some guy's face, breaking that guy's nose.
And, that guy did NOT wind up with the milestone HR baseball.
That was amusing enough, but our funny bone was tickled further when we read the Sun's account of the milestone HR the next day.
There aren't many things better in journalism than when an athlete says something and the quote is printed differently in the "gamer" than the way it appears in the "sidebar."
Typical of the Sun, Ripken's quotes got mangled (that particular sports section is in a box around here somewhere), so the reader never knows if when Cal says, "I was happy to get a clutch hit at that point in the game," if it'll appear in print as "I'm pleased that I hit the ball well" or "What a delight to homer in that situation."
Good sh*t ... great reading.
For when you're seated on the throne ...
Odd thing about the quotable Ripken ... he had a penchant for referring to himself in the second person.
No, not the third person with something like, "Cal Ripken was happy to get a clutch hit at that point in the game."
More like, "You're always happy to get a clutch hit at that point in the game you're playing."
Or if he's describing the pitch he hit, Cal might say, "You're looking for a fastball right there when you're ahead in the count, so when you get it, you're happy that you hit it well."
Cal took that "No 'I' In Team" maybe a bit too far.
As for his farewell game, it was the final game of the '01 season. The O's were getting handled by the Red Sox, 5-1, with one out to go, a runner on base and Braindead Anderson in the box with Ripken on deck.
Bosox pitcher Ugueth Urbina ran the count full to Brandy, but, for those fans in the ballpark or those of us watching at home on TV, we all knew that if there was a borderline, two-strike pitch, Brandy could keep the bat on his shoulder because there was NO WAY home plate ump Eric Cooper would ring up the batter on a called third strike with the stadium abuzz with the thought of Ripken coming up for one final AB.
Well, we don't call him "Braindead" Anderson because he's a heads-up player.
He swung and missed to end the game.
Apparently, Braindead had to hustle over to GNC to get some "supplements" so he could do 5,000 curls and 1,000 leg-presses before bedtime.
Then, it's time for a shower ... maybe skim through a few pgs. of Playgirl ... and then it's lights out ...
Speaking of vintage, season-ending strikeouts, there's one of Mighty Mac which'll stick with America for a long time.
It was in Game 5 of the '01 NLDS ... a loser-go-home scenario ... and, in the top of the 9th inning and a runner at first in a 1-1 game against the D-Backs, La Loser pinch-hit for McGwire, who had struck out in each of his previous three trips against Curt Schilling.
Kerry Robinson was summoned to bunt the runner into scoring position.
The D-Backs, though, won the game in the bottom of the 9th.
Surely, La Loser spent a few minutes on the postgame show discussing, "We needed to move the runner up, blah blah, blah ... Mark's a little banged-up, blah, blah, blah ..."
And, Tony Gwynn? That guy could roll out of bed and go 4 for 4.
Unless he felt like going 5 for 5.
Quality baserunner, great defensively ... damn shame, though, that we didn't get to see Gwynn could hit .400 in a season because The MLB walked out on us ("it's for the children ... and for their children's children") in Aug. '94 when Gwynn was batting .394.
In an exerpt from his '93 biography, "I Ain't An Athlete, Lady ...", John Kruk (as told to Paul Hagen) described one of his minor-league experiences thusly:
"I ate when it was time to eat. I ate when I was hungry. I ate and kept on gaining. I never really thought it was a problem until after my second year at Triple-A in Las Vegas; that's when they told me that if I didn't report to spring training the next year at 190 pounds, they weren't going to let me do anything until I had lost the weight. I'd be there, but all I'd do would be to work out with the trainer.
"So I stayed in Las Vegas and worked out at this clinic. I didn't eat anything. I starved myself. When it came time for the physical and the weigh-in, I was at 190 pounds exactly. They let me do what I had to do. I left for Yuma, Arizona, and spring training with Tony Gwynn; he'd had to lose weight, too.
"And we stopped at Wendy's on the way and had two big double cheeseburgers."
Outstanding.
The question is: Was that two big double cheeseburgers EACH?
The reason we ask is because when he goes to Wendy's, Bill Conlin orders three big double cheeseburgers (two-and-a-half for eating, one-half for spilling on his shirt and necktie).
Makes ya wonder what it was like for Eppa Rixey when he was with the 1922 Redlegs and he was on road trips with catchers Bubbles Hargrave and Ivey Wingo and fellow pitcher Cactus Keck.
They didn't have a Wendy's back then -- but, surely the cooks at the local diner fired up as many double cheeseburgers as Eppa, Bubbles, Ivey and Cactus could consume.
Cristobal Torriente?
He had to go a lunch counter when they served "dem cull-uhh-ed boys."
If only there'd been androstinedione back then.
Not to mention Civil Rights legislation ...
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Tressel Shoulda Put In Johnny Utah (or Shane Falco)
That was always the problem any time that Hollywood attempted to paint a portrait of an Ohio State QB.
Something always got lost in the character-development.
Whether it was ex-Ohio State QB JOHNNY UTAH (portrayed by Keanu Reeves) workin' as a special agent for the FBI or whether it was QB SHANE FALCO (portrayed by the same Keanu Reeves, who portrayed ex-Ohio State QB Johnny Utah) scraping barnacles off the hulls of boats in Baltimore harbor, the audience usually walked out of the theater feeling as though maybe the writers could've done a better job of revealing Keanu Reeves' "inner QB."
Despite the lack of depth in character development -- and notwithstanding the fact that you threw like a chick -- we love you, Johnny Utah.
You're a rebel, Johnny Utah -- and you dish out your own brand of frontier justice.
Still ... we'll never forget you, Shane Falco.
True dat: Memories of Johnny Utah and Shane Falco are all there is to cling to after Troy Smith left that humongous 4-of-14, 35-yd. pile of feces on the University of Phoenix turf last night (which, by the way, was NOT the same surface which Boise State and Oklahoma had played on one week earlier. Apparently, the old turf was auctioned off on eBay ... or somethin').
There's not too much to put into the recap of such a decisive ass-whoopin' ... 'cept maybe that intangibles such as "leadership" are more noticeable when the opponent is Indiana, rather than Florida.
In other words, Troy Smith -- when his NFL stock wasn't dropping by the minute -- was unable to "will the Blackeyes" to victory.
What we saw from Team Tressel was nothing like what we saw from the scrappy Louis Tully when he came to the aid of the Ghostbusters.
When he put on the jumpsuit and was preparing for action, Louis ran down the sidewalk with a game plan of: "Happy New Year ... stay fit, keep sharp, make good decisions ..."
We didn't see that from the Blackeyes last night (except maybe for the "Happy New Year" part).
To wit, the only thing worse than watching Troy Smith play QB was watching Alex Boone "attempt" to play left tackle.
America expected more from someone who wears the same number (#75) as OSU O-line legend Orlando Pace.
The kid defamed Pace's #75.
However, we should never forget that Alex Boone is 6-foot-8, 325 lbs.
Those dimensions receive special mention for Creatine America because: "You can't teach size."
In terms of "shocker" value, well ... that's a fairly subjective term. For those of us who actually watched college football in '06 (which excludes you, Leak Orso ... and probably you, too, Herb Kirkstreit), the Big Ten was ranked No. 6 (by this Planet) among the nation's 11 Div. I-A conferences (behind the SEC, the Pac-10, the Big XII, the ACC and the Big East -- but ahead of the WAC at No. 7 and C-USA at No. 8).
True, Wisconsin and Penn State came up with New Year's Day wins over the vaunted SEC (by beating Arkansas and Tennessee, respectively), but didn't we all have oodles of fun pondering weak-ass efforts from Minnesota (North Dakota State manhandled the Goofs, piling up a 23-12 edge in first downs before losing, 10-9, on a blocked FG on the game's final play ... and let's not forget the 38-7, third-quarter lead which Minny blew vs. Texas Tech in the bowl game which nobody watched on the NFL Network) and Northwestern (losing at home to New Hampshire).
Maybe Northwestern should receive a "pass" in '06 due to the death of head coach Randy Walker during the first week of July. And, maybe the NDSU Bison have one of the best programs in Div. I-AA.
Still ... the Big Ten served as the answer to the riddle which goes, "what's brown and sounds like a bell?"
"DUNG!"
Not that the Alligators were so "soop-Urb."
If the Alligators' key strengths of team speed, team speed and team speed were so overwhelming, then why so many craptastic wins this year? (see: Vandy, others)
And, if the "nobody believed in us, but we believed in ourselves!" card is to be played, maybe those whompin', stompin' Swamp chompers can explain why they booed the bejabbers outta QB Chris Leak this season.
It's like this, Gainesville: America didn't find you all that likeable 'cuz there wasn't all that much to like.
Despite that, the flesh-puncturing amphibians put it all together last night in a coll. FB eco-system which requires one team to sit around for 50 days.
Which is acceptable because that's the way they've been doin' things for years. It was, though, alarming to see TresselVest -- "America's No. 1 big-game coach" -- have his I.Q. crumpled and stuffed into the pocket of his sweater vest.
When Florida did whatever it did on D ("D" equals "on the defensive side of the ball"), TresselVest was looking to the bench to see if Maurice Clarett was ready to get back into the game.
Here's an idea for The Genius: When the blue-jersey opponent is bringin' the house, maybe try some dump-offs or some screen passes or -- better yet -- try mixing in a tight end as a safety valve instead of having Heisman Troy-phy taking a 9-step drop and surveying the landscape as his blindside protector (that's you, Alex Boone) attempts to remove his cleats from the quicksand he's stuck in.
One can pick out any number of so-called turning points, but, 'round here, we like to point out the obvious -- such as when the Blackeyes, as the home team, opted to wear their white road-game jerseys (probably because white was what OSU wore when it beat the 'Canes for the nat'l championship in Arizona four years ago).
White also became a problem for Teddy Ginn once he committed the major faux pas of applying black athletic tape to his new white cleats.
Nobody tapes his white cleats with black tape ... not in America, anyway.
Anti-American behavior cost Teddy Ginn dearly.
He was dogpiled after that opening KOR TD -- and, oddly enough, Ginn was the only thing the Blackeyes hit hard all night.
After Ginn got hit, Blackeye fans hit the gin pretty hard.
From an X's and O's standpoint, the one play which really stood out (aside from the 4th-and-1 from their own 29 when the OSU OL generated ZERO surge) was the dandy bit of coverage that cornerback Malcolm Jenkins (#2) applied to Dallas Baker on the Alligators' first TD.
Jenkins gave Baker a WEAK shove (sometimes, they call it "a chuck") and then let Baker go ... assuming that Brandon Mitchell (#32) would provide safety help (we assume).
Mitchell was late getting over to Baker and Leak put his throw on the money ... Baker hauling in the pass near the goal line before waltzing into the end zone.
The best part of the play (aside from Jenkins' paddycake love-tap) was Leak's pass floating inches over Jenkins' outstretched arm as the CB was covering nobody in No Man's Land.
Sang John Lennon: "He's a real nowhere man / Sitting in his nowhere land / Making all his nowhere plans / For nohhhh-buddd-deee ..."
What exactly was OSU's defensive mindset right there?
Was Jenkins assigned to cover nobody in No Man's Land because "nobody knows if there'll be a swing pass into the left flat so that Malcolm can tumble to the ground and whiff on the ankle-tackle"?
Dallas Baker is a Touchdown Maker.
Probably a good idea to blanket him.
It was a mighty sad display of technique "on the defensive side of the ball" from a player wearing Mike Doss' #2 and another player wearing Jack Tatum's #32.
In a game as rout-tastic as what these combatants delivered, a fella's mind can sure wander. One minute, you're watching Jenkins and Mitchell mishandle the coverage -- and the next minute, you're flashing back to a 1996 matchup between the Blackeyes and the Alligators and a showcase confrontation between OSU CB Shawn Springs squaring off against UF WR Ike Hilliard.
Or maybe you've completely zoned out and it's 1984 and you're remembering when Florida wore the orange jerseys (but they still had the script "Gators" on the side of the helmets) and Charley Pell had a freshman QB named Kerwin Bell who was wearin' #12 -- and the thing that struck you as odd was the fact that this Kerwin Bell was a white-boy Kerwin Bell, not the black Kerwin Bell who rushed for 1,000 yards as a freshman at Kansas the same year that you were a freshman in college (in fact, both of you were seniors in large SoCal high schools at the same time).
Without warning, your white Kerwin Bell vs. black Kerwin Bell parade of memories yields to the first college football game you ever watched in your college dorm's TV lounge... a 10 a.m. kickoff between the Cal Bears and Florida ... and the Gators, coming off an 0-10-1 season, beginning the new decade with a guy named Bill Hewko (if memory serves) tossin' passes to Cris Collinsworth -- only Hewko would eventually lose his job (injury, perhaps?) to freshman Wayne Peace, who dazzled his way onto a Sports Illustrated cover that year ... wearing #15, the number which Tim Tebow currently wears.
You chuckle because Florida (0-10-1 the year before) really pounded the crap outta Cal, 41-13 -- but the Gators would get their come-uppance (whatever "come-uppance" is) later in the season when Buck Belue would throw that dump-off pass to Lindsay Scott which the Georgia flanker would turn into the 92-yard TD in the game's final minute during the Dawgs' run to the national championship.
Such a sandlot play reminded you of all the times that you went to the big field at the elementary school for 2-on-2 and, while in the huddle, you n' Kirk pulled a page out of the Gator playbook: Why not take it to Chuck n' Jim with the rollouts which we'd just seen Terry LeCount tossin' to Wes Chandler over n' over again?
Wes Chandler ... jeez, that guy was fantastic.
Moreso in the NFL than at Florida perhaps, but, stil ...
As stated ... sometimes, the mind wanders.
Ya gotta gotta cover the rollouts.
We never played zone in 2-on-2.
Zone coverages are so wussy, so dainty, very much "let's-not-wrinkle-our-prom-dresses."
Florida didn't win because of team speed, team speed, team speed and team speed -- so don't let Herb Kirkstreit's hair-product, hazel eyes and raspy voice talk ya into bed.
Florida won because the Alligators blocked people, the Alligators tackled people, the Alligators covered people, the Alligators had assignments and then carried out those assignments (94.8 percent of the time).
In other words, the Alligators played the way that fireronzook.com knew they could play when fireronzook.com recruited those players.
Which wasn't enough to save Ron Zook from fireronzook.com backlash -- although Ron Zook's orange-helmeted Fighting Illini held their own against TresselVest this season (a 17-10 final verdict ... which probably wasn't enough to satisfy the Champaign Chapter of fireronzook.com).
TresselVest ... he's one controversial end-zone P.I. against Miami DB Glenn Sharpe four years ago from being nuthin' more than a title-game Tom Osborne.
(Note: TresselVest and Tom Osborne won national championships with two of the worst criminal minds at tailback ... take a bow, Maurice Clarett and Lawrence Phillips).
Back in the ol' days, TresselVest had a molecular genetics major (Craig Krenzel) at QB.
Last night, he had what the NFL is about to discover is the second coming of Spergon Wynn.
Actually, in terms of "physique" and "tools," Troy Smith stands a chance of being remembered as "the untalented version of David Garrard" -- which is why Al Davis just ripped up his Troy Smith trading card and began reading the pamphlets which contained pro-JaMarcus Russell propaganda.
Jeez ... just wait'll Grandpa Al gets JaMarcus' 6-foot-10, 338 lbs. frame into a black jersey and a silver helmet before JaMarcus' scattershot arm fires bazooka passes all over the Oakland Coliseum.
The sad thing is, there hasn't been a quality NFL QB'er outta LSU since Bert Jones in the 1970s (Y.A. Tittle before that).
Speaking of the '70s, sure ... we who saw JaMarcus unleash that 70-yard (on the fly) pass at the end of regulation vs. Tenn. in '05 had our breaths taken away.
But, LSU QBs of the past 30-some-odd years are simply not NFL material.
Whether it be Pat Lyons, David Woodley, Alan Risher, Jeff Wickersham, Tommy Hodson, Josh Booty, Matt Mauck (from Santa Claus, Ind.) ... and, that's not counting the crop of recent not-too-shabby-on-the-collegiate-level, black Tiger QBs (i.e. Herb Tyler, Rohan Davey and Marcus Randall).
A lot of us loved Rohan Davey. To us, Rohan Davey was like a male, non-pussy version of Johnny Utah or Shane Falco.
A lot of us picture JaMarcus Russell as a 6-foot-10, 338-lb. version of Rohan Davey.
Davey, as you might recall, simply trashed the (bleep) outta Illinois in the Sugar Bowl five years ago, then ... well, we don't remember what happened to him.
New England Patriots taxi squad or NFL Europe or something.
A lot of us see JaMarcus Russell -- fresh off a Sugar Bowl pounding of Notre Dumb -- following in Davey's footsteps, although, physique-wise and tools-wise, he reminds us of a more-inconsistent version of the inconsistent Daunte Culpepper.
How the Troy Smith Eulogy turned into the JaMarcus Russell Comedy Roast ... we're not sure. What we are sure of, though, is how pointless it is to prognosticate for a month about OSU-FLA and then to pontificate for another week about "how we need a playoff."
The bowl-game system may have its flaws, but a playoff system (which, by the way, would NOT include everybody's Boise Cinderella, but rather a three-loss LSU and a two-loss USC) that is riddled with bullet holes doesn't seem to stack up as a viable option.
It's more fun to assemble our own Haystack-It Bracket, wherein (as we've specified), No. 1 Florida plays the winner of Boise State/Houston ... No. 3 Oklahoma plays the winner of Ohio State/Mid-Tenn. St. ... No. 4 Wake Forest plays the winner of Louisville/Notre Dumb ... and No. 2 USC plays the winner of BYU/Ohio.
We can either stick to the traditional bracket -- or we can re-seed as we see fit.
Or we can simply do what we do every year and kill time with: Florida lost to Auburn ... Auburn lost to Georgia ... Georgia lost to Vanderbilt ... Vanderbilt lost to Ole Miss ... Ole Miss lost to Missouri ... Misery lost to Iowa State ... Iowa State lost to Montana State ... Montana State lost to UC Davis ... UC Davis lost to Cal Poly-San Luis Obispo ... Cal Poly-SLO lost to ("Did you order the Code Red?" YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I DID!!!) -- SAN JOSE STATE!
We worked this backwards before the '00 Rose Bowl and discovered that Elon College should have been playing Elon College in Pasadena on New Year's Day.
Predicted winner: Elon College.
Either way, the New Mexico Bowl champion Men of Sparta are BCS-bound in '10 or '11 ...
Something always got lost in the character-development.
Whether it was ex-Ohio State QB JOHNNY UTAH (portrayed by Keanu Reeves) workin' as a special agent for the FBI or whether it was QB SHANE FALCO (portrayed by the same Keanu Reeves, who portrayed ex-Ohio State QB Johnny Utah) scraping barnacles off the hulls of boats in Baltimore harbor, the audience usually walked out of the theater feeling as though maybe the writers could've done a better job of revealing Keanu Reeves' "inner QB."
Despite the lack of depth in character development -- and notwithstanding the fact that you threw like a chick -- we love you, Johnny Utah.
You're a rebel, Johnny Utah -- and you dish out your own brand of frontier justice.
Still ... we'll never forget you, Shane Falco.
True dat: Memories of Johnny Utah and Shane Falco are all there is to cling to after Troy Smith left that humongous 4-of-14, 35-yd. pile of feces on the University of Phoenix turf last night (which, by the way, was NOT the same surface which Boise State and Oklahoma had played on one week earlier. Apparently, the old turf was auctioned off on eBay ... or somethin').
There's not too much to put into the recap of such a decisive ass-whoopin' ... 'cept maybe that intangibles such as "leadership" are more noticeable when the opponent is Indiana, rather than Florida.
In other words, Troy Smith -- when his NFL stock wasn't dropping by the minute -- was unable to "will the Blackeyes" to victory.
What we saw from Team Tressel was nothing like what we saw from the scrappy Louis Tully when he came to the aid of the Ghostbusters.
When he put on the jumpsuit and was preparing for action, Louis ran down the sidewalk with a game plan of: "Happy New Year ... stay fit, keep sharp, make good decisions ..."
We didn't see that from the Blackeyes last night (except maybe for the "Happy New Year" part).
To wit, the only thing worse than watching Troy Smith play QB was watching Alex Boone "attempt" to play left tackle.
America expected more from someone who wears the same number (#75) as OSU O-line legend Orlando Pace.
The kid defamed Pace's #75.
However, we should never forget that Alex Boone is 6-foot-8, 325 lbs.
Those dimensions receive special mention for Creatine America because: "You can't teach size."
In terms of "shocker" value, well ... that's a fairly subjective term. For those of us who actually watched college football in '06 (which excludes you, Leak Orso ... and probably you, too, Herb Kirkstreit), the Big Ten was ranked No. 6 (by this Planet) among the nation's 11 Div. I-A conferences (behind the SEC, the Pac-10, the Big XII, the ACC and the Big East -- but ahead of the WAC at No. 7 and C-USA at No. 8).
True, Wisconsin and Penn State came up with New Year's Day wins over the vaunted SEC (by beating Arkansas and Tennessee, respectively), but didn't we all have oodles of fun pondering weak-ass efforts from Minnesota (North Dakota State manhandled the Goofs, piling up a 23-12 edge in first downs before losing, 10-9, on a blocked FG on the game's final play ... and let's not forget the 38-7, third-quarter lead which Minny blew vs. Texas Tech in the bowl game which nobody watched on the NFL Network) and Northwestern (losing at home to New Hampshire).
Maybe Northwestern should receive a "pass" in '06 due to the death of head coach Randy Walker during the first week of July. And, maybe the NDSU Bison have one of the best programs in Div. I-AA.
Still ... the Big Ten served as the answer to the riddle which goes, "what's brown and sounds like a bell?"
"DUNG!"
Not that the Alligators were so "soop-Urb."
If the Alligators' key strengths of team speed, team speed and team speed were so overwhelming, then why so many craptastic wins this year? (see: Vandy, others)
And, if the "nobody believed in us, but we believed in ourselves!" card is to be played, maybe those whompin', stompin' Swamp chompers can explain why they booed the bejabbers outta QB Chris Leak this season.
It's like this, Gainesville: America didn't find you all that likeable 'cuz there wasn't all that much to like.
Despite that, the flesh-puncturing amphibians put it all together last night in a coll. FB eco-system which requires one team to sit around for 50 days.
Which is acceptable because that's the way they've been doin' things for years. It was, though, alarming to see TresselVest -- "America's No. 1 big-game coach" -- have his I.Q. crumpled and stuffed into the pocket of his sweater vest.
When Florida did whatever it did on D ("D" equals "on the defensive side of the ball"), TresselVest was looking to the bench to see if Maurice Clarett was ready to get back into the game.
Here's an idea for The Genius: When the blue-jersey opponent is bringin' the house, maybe try some dump-offs or some screen passes or -- better yet -- try mixing in a tight end as a safety valve instead of having Heisman Troy-phy taking a 9-step drop and surveying the landscape as his blindside protector (that's you, Alex Boone) attempts to remove his cleats from the quicksand he's stuck in.
One can pick out any number of so-called turning points, but, 'round here, we like to point out the obvious -- such as when the Blackeyes, as the home team, opted to wear their white road-game jerseys (probably because white was what OSU wore when it beat the 'Canes for the nat'l championship in Arizona four years ago).
White also became a problem for Teddy Ginn once he committed the major faux pas of applying black athletic tape to his new white cleats.
Nobody tapes his white cleats with black tape ... not in America, anyway.
Anti-American behavior cost Teddy Ginn dearly.
He was dogpiled after that opening KOR TD -- and, oddly enough, Ginn was the only thing the Blackeyes hit hard all night.
After Ginn got hit, Blackeye fans hit the gin pretty hard.
From an X's and O's standpoint, the one play which really stood out (aside from the 4th-and-1 from their own 29 when the OSU OL generated ZERO surge) was the dandy bit of coverage that cornerback Malcolm Jenkins (#2) applied to Dallas Baker on the Alligators' first TD.
Jenkins gave Baker a WEAK shove (sometimes, they call it "a chuck") and then let Baker go ... assuming that Brandon Mitchell (#32) would provide safety help (we assume).
Mitchell was late getting over to Baker and Leak put his throw on the money ... Baker hauling in the pass near the goal line before waltzing into the end zone.
The best part of the play (aside from Jenkins' paddycake love-tap) was Leak's pass floating inches over Jenkins' outstretched arm as the CB was covering nobody in No Man's Land.
Sang John Lennon: "He's a real nowhere man / Sitting in his nowhere land / Making all his nowhere plans / For nohhhh-buddd-deee ..."
What exactly was OSU's defensive mindset right there?
Was Jenkins assigned to cover nobody in No Man's Land because "nobody knows if there'll be a swing pass into the left flat so that Malcolm can tumble to the ground and whiff on the ankle-tackle"?
Dallas Baker is a Touchdown Maker.
Probably a good idea to blanket him.
It was a mighty sad display of technique "on the defensive side of the ball" from a player wearing Mike Doss' #2 and another player wearing Jack Tatum's #32.
In a game as rout-tastic as what these combatants delivered, a fella's mind can sure wander. One minute, you're watching Jenkins and Mitchell mishandle the coverage -- and the next minute, you're flashing back to a 1996 matchup between the Blackeyes and the Alligators and a showcase confrontation between OSU CB Shawn Springs squaring off against UF WR Ike Hilliard.
Or maybe you've completely zoned out and it's 1984 and you're remembering when Florida wore the orange jerseys (but they still had the script "Gators" on the side of the helmets) and Charley Pell had a freshman QB named Kerwin Bell who was wearin' #12 -- and the thing that struck you as odd was the fact that this Kerwin Bell was a white-boy Kerwin Bell, not the black Kerwin Bell who rushed for 1,000 yards as a freshman at Kansas the same year that you were a freshman in college (in fact, both of you were seniors in large SoCal high schools at the same time).
Without warning, your white Kerwin Bell vs. black Kerwin Bell parade of memories yields to the first college football game you ever watched in your college dorm's TV lounge... a 10 a.m. kickoff between the Cal Bears and Florida ... and the Gators, coming off an 0-10-1 season, beginning the new decade with a guy named Bill Hewko (if memory serves) tossin' passes to Cris Collinsworth -- only Hewko would eventually lose his job (injury, perhaps?) to freshman Wayne Peace, who dazzled his way onto a Sports Illustrated cover that year ... wearing #15, the number which Tim Tebow currently wears.
You chuckle because Florida (0-10-1 the year before) really pounded the crap outta Cal, 41-13 -- but the Gators would get their come-uppance (whatever "come-uppance" is) later in the season when Buck Belue would throw that dump-off pass to Lindsay Scott which the Georgia flanker would turn into the 92-yard TD in the game's final minute during the Dawgs' run to the national championship.
Such a sandlot play reminded you of all the times that you went to the big field at the elementary school for 2-on-2 and, while in the huddle, you n' Kirk pulled a page out of the Gator playbook: Why not take it to Chuck n' Jim with the rollouts which we'd just seen Terry LeCount tossin' to Wes Chandler over n' over again?
Wes Chandler ... jeez, that guy was fantastic.
Moreso in the NFL than at Florida perhaps, but, stil ...
As stated ... sometimes, the mind wanders.
Ya gotta gotta cover the rollouts.
We never played zone in 2-on-2.
Zone coverages are so wussy, so dainty, very much "let's-not-wrinkle-our-prom-dresses."
Florida didn't win because of team speed, team speed, team speed and team speed -- so don't let Herb Kirkstreit's hair-product, hazel eyes and raspy voice talk ya into bed.
Florida won because the Alligators blocked people, the Alligators tackled people, the Alligators covered people, the Alligators had assignments and then carried out those assignments (94.8 percent of the time).
In other words, the Alligators played the way that fireronzook.com knew they could play when fireronzook.com recruited those players.
Which wasn't enough to save Ron Zook from fireronzook.com backlash -- although Ron Zook's orange-helmeted Fighting Illini held their own against TresselVest this season (a 17-10 final verdict ... which probably wasn't enough to satisfy the Champaign Chapter of fireronzook.com).
TresselVest ... he's one controversial end-zone P.I. against Miami DB Glenn Sharpe four years ago from being nuthin' more than a title-game Tom Osborne.
(Note: TresselVest and Tom Osborne won national championships with two of the worst criminal minds at tailback ... take a bow, Maurice Clarett and Lawrence Phillips).
Back in the ol' days, TresselVest had a molecular genetics major (Craig Krenzel) at QB.
Last night, he had what the NFL is about to discover is the second coming of Spergon Wynn.
Actually, in terms of "physique" and "tools," Troy Smith stands a chance of being remembered as "the untalented version of David Garrard" -- which is why Al Davis just ripped up his Troy Smith trading card and began reading the pamphlets which contained pro-JaMarcus Russell propaganda.
Jeez ... just wait'll Grandpa Al gets JaMarcus' 6-foot-10, 338 lbs. frame into a black jersey and a silver helmet before JaMarcus' scattershot arm fires bazooka passes all over the Oakland Coliseum.
The sad thing is, there hasn't been a quality NFL QB'er outta LSU since Bert Jones in the 1970s (Y.A. Tittle before that).
Speaking of the '70s, sure ... we who saw JaMarcus unleash that 70-yard (on the fly) pass at the end of regulation vs. Tenn. in '05 had our breaths taken away.
But, LSU QBs of the past 30-some-odd years are simply not NFL material.
Whether it be Pat Lyons, David Woodley, Alan Risher, Jeff Wickersham, Tommy Hodson, Josh Booty, Matt Mauck (from Santa Claus, Ind.) ... and, that's not counting the crop of recent not-too-shabby-on-the-collegiate-level, black Tiger QBs (i.e. Herb Tyler, Rohan Davey and Marcus Randall).
A lot of us loved Rohan Davey. To us, Rohan Davey was like a male, non-pussy version of Johnny Utah or Shane Falco.
A lot of us picture JaMarcus Russell as a 6-foot-10, 338-lb. version of Rohan Davey.
Davey, as you might recall, simply trashed the (bleep) outta Illinois in the Sugar Bowl five years ago, then ... well, we don't remember what happened to him.
New England Patriots taxi squad or NFL Europe or something.
A lot of us see JaMarcus Russell -- fresh off a Sugar Bowl pounding of Notre Dumb -- following in Davey's footsteps, although, physique-wise and tools-wise, he reminds us of a more-inconsistent version of the inconsistent Daunte Culpepper.
How the Troy Smith Eulogy turned into the JaMarcus Russell Comedy Roast ... we're not sure. What we are sure of, though, is how pointless it is to prognosticate for a month about OSU-FLA and then to pontificate for another week about "how we need a playoff."
The bowl-game system may have its flaws, but a playoff system (which, by the way, would NOT include everybody's Boise Cinderella, but rather a three-loss LSU and a two-loss USC) that is riddled with bullet holes doesn't seem to stack up as a viable option.
It's more fun to assemble our own Haystack-It Bracket, wherein (as we've specified), No. 1 Florida plays the winner of Boise State/Houston ... No. 3 Oklahoma plays the winner of Ohio State/Mid-Tenn. St. ... No. 4 Wake Forest plays the winner of Louisville/Notre Dumb ... and No. 2 USC plays the winner of BYU/Ohio.
We can either stick to the traditional bracket -- or we can re-seed as we see fit.
Or we can simply do what we do every year and kill time with: Florida lost to Auburn ... Auburn lost to Georgia ... Georgia lost to Vanderbilt ... Vanderbilt lost to Ole Miss ... Ole Miss lost to Missouri ... Misery lost to Iowa State ... Iowa State lost to Montana State ... Montana State lost to UC Davis ... UC Davis lost to Cal Poly-San Luis Obispo ... Cal Poly-SLO lost to ("Did you order the Code Red?" YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT I DID!!!) -- SAN JOSE STATE!
We worked this backwards before the '00 Rose Bowl and discovered that Elon College should have been playing Elon College in Pasadena on New Year's Day.
Predicted winner: Elon College.
Either way, the New Mexico Bowl champion Men of Sparta are BCS-bound in '10 or '11 ...
Monday, January 08, 2007
Revisiting "fireronzook.com" (Alligators vs. Blackeyes)
This BCS title-game tilt (OSU vs. UF) has been sittin' in the fridge for so long, we almost forgot what it was when we saw it wrapped in foil on the top shelf.
Behind the pickles and the orange juice.
And, because of the confusion regarding the shelf-life of such matters, it's not easy to remember what's inside.
Until we peel back the foil.
These are not leftovers to be disguised as a casserole. It's so much more.
But, what exactly is at stake here? After all, this is the first time since the 2001 season in which our college football championship dreams of touchdowns and lollipops won't be influenced by USC asking, "What about us?"
And, that's what's a little odd because the '06 Men of Troy were nearly as good as the Trojan warhorses of '02, '03, '04 and '05 -- except for puzzling slip-ups against very ordinary Oregon State an UCLA.
Since no one seems willing to provide an in-depth analysis of just how much the losses of Brandon Ting and Ryan Ting impacted 'SC's program (and Troy's capacity to dish out an ass-beaTING), a nation will turn it's eyes to another Troy.
Exactly ... the guy who won the Heisman Troy-phy.
It all begins with the stripes on the jersey sleeves of the Ohio State Blackeyes.
Nobody's said a word about it all season (is it taboo?), but the stripe-configuration is clearly different.
In previous seasons (and as recently as last year), the stripe pattern on the scarlet jerseys was the same design as what the Steelers and the Packers still have (except those teams use yellow as the chief color; the Blackeyes use silver/gray).
This year, the Blackeyes have worn scarlet jerseys wherein the sleeves have two thin white stripes with an extremely-thin black border. It's the sleeve-stripe design which was worn by the Blackeyes during the final three years of The Schlichter Era ('79 thru '81), as anyone who was the under-secretary of the Sub-Committee on Schlichter Affairs can tell you.
There are photos here to prove it.
Photos of a handsome #10 with stickers on his helmet.
Speaking of which ... has anyone questioned TresselVest's extremely liberal helmet-sticker policy?
The new #10 -- the Heisman Troy-phy winner -- has too many on his shiny silver headgear. In fact, Troy Smith's helmet is completely covered with decals, a by-product of the over-sticker-ization of the Blackeye helmet.
America is definitely up in arms about gaining access to the Blackeye-sticker qualification list.
What is the criteria?
"Show up to practice on time ... Blackeye sticker!"
"Wearing pants while showing up to practice on time ... Blackeye sticker!"
Speaking of the hard-shelled bonnet, Heisman Troy-phy will attempt to become the first QB to win a national championship while wearing a shield on his facemask.
Imagine that ... the FIRST shield-wearing QB in BCS history.
While Troy Smith has worn a tinted bug shield before, the best guess-timate for tonight's game is that he'll have a clear shield.
It's manufactured by Nike (of course).
However, as we learned from our Nov. 19 entry ("Heisman Troy-phy"), Mighty Troy doesn't look as cool with the windshield on his helmet as Greg Frey did during his days as a Blackeye QB (when Herb Kirkstreit was a frosh QB on campus).
But, that's only because Greg Frey was a white dude wearing a tinted bug shield before it became vogue.
Pretty soon, guys like Jim McMahon and Dan McGwire were pasty white dudes wearing the tinted shield.
Greg Frey, though ... he was the first.
First college QB, anyway.
So, we've addressed the dress code -- although, through the years, the Blackeyes have often crossed us up, switching from black cleats to the completely awwwwwsummm white cleats, which they wore from the mid-'70s thru the '80s ... until they switched to those kinda-cool red cleats ... before switching back to black cleats ... which gave way to the popular (but ugly) black cleat w/ black socks look.
America needs to decide for itself if it likes the black cleat/black socks look -- and if such a look is more-offensive than when the Alligators broke out the white helmets with the block "F" (which they wore during their game against Alabama)
In this fashion-plate expose, we're thanking our lucky stars that FLA has retained the white cleat/white sock combo which, too often, has faded from the coll. FB landscape.
Anyway, the Alligators will use their orange-n'-blue powers to do on the same field (University of Phoenix Stadium) what the blue-n'-orange Boise State Broncos did one week earlier to the Sooner Schooner in a memorable Fiesta Bowl.
And, the Urban Legend will attempt to win a national championship by going against all of the wisdom of "fireronzook.com."
Again, it's a classic case of new coach winning with the guys he didn't recruit.
It doesn't take an urban legend to realize that when you've got 'em by the balls, their hearts n' minds will follow.
Now, a textbook example of Urban's legacy as part-magician, part-genius was never more evident than the classic moment from the SEC Championship when he waved his magic wand in the third quarter.
You remember it:
Arkansas had just scored a TD on one of its funky Darren McFadden, option-TD passes to pull to within 17-14 and, a few minutes later, Razorblades D-lineman Antwain Robinson stepped in front of that baby-toss, two-foot shovel pass from Chris Leak and chugged 40 yards for a TD and a 21-17 Hogs lead.
That's when Urban dialed upon some wicked sorcery.
Following an Arkansas punt, the Alligators were about to run their first play of the possession (on 1st-and-10 from their own 15) when Urb called timeout.
Three plays later, the Alligators faced 4th-and-10 -- and the Eric Wilbur was summoned to punt.
Only Wilbur didn't kick the ball. Instead -- in a horrifically-slow-developing, fake-punt scenario, Wilbur gave the ball to Jemalle Cornelius, who swept around the left side and gained 17 yards to the 32-yard line.
After two plays netted three yards, Urb burned his second timeout of the series.
When a 6-yard pass from Leak to Percy Harvin brought on a 4th-and-1 from the Gator 41, Urb spent his final timeout of the half.
Urb decided that it would serve the Alligators' best interests to punt the ball -- and, this time, Wilbur really did.
Only thing is, Arkansas' Reggie Fish muffed the kick inside his own 5-yard line and the ball danced free in the end zone.
That was where, among a threesome or foursome of converging Alligators, Wonty Pierre-Louis emerged as the player who made the recovery for a Florida touchdown.
Verne Lundquist informed his CBS audience that Wonty Pierre-Louis was born in Haiti.
That sequence cemented his image as the Urban Legend. It was what the anti-Zookists had asserted all along -- that the Alligators needed a head coach who was a visionary ... thay it was impossible for the revelers to execute a Swamp Romp Stomp n' Chomp unless the head coach was willing to burn all three timeouts on one possession which featured the Big Three of classic plays: 1) Fake punt 2) Actual punt 3) Real-live muffed punt recovered for a TD by the Haitian dude.
Sure, Boise State head coach Chris Petersen pulled a game outta the fire with a hook-n'-ladder play, the WR-turned-HB-option pass and the insane Statue of Liberty play, but Boise's sequence lacked the originality and vision of Urb's master plan.
Timeout, fake punt, timeout, timeout, punt, muff, a TD for Haiti.
Urb's intellect CAN take over games. He seizes such opportunities.
Take the win over LSU. With 22 seconds until halftime in a 7-7 game, Urb diagrammed the unforgettable Tim Tebow play wherein the frosh QB double-clutched a 1-yard, jump-pass TD.
Then, after a halftime spent working with new diagrams and re-working old diagrams, Urb drew up a special play -- "Watch The LSU Return Man Shit His Pants While Dealing With The Second-Half Kickoff."
That muff resulted in a safety, not a TD for a Haitian -- but did nothing to tarnish Urban Muffer's legacy as master strategist and tactician.
Urb'll be the first to tell ya: Strategy ain't nuthin' without tactics.
Just as tactics ain't squat without strategy.
This is what TresselVest must weigh ... that, and a 51-day layoff for his squad.
So much down time tends to render pre-game prognostications moot. After all, there's nothing coll. FB players love more than practicing for a month and a half and havin' no enemy to hit (and to exchange smack with) at the end of each 7-day installment.
Seven weeks of practice without seven games at the end of each week.
Makes sense ...
Uh oh, those knuckleheads are here to offer their goodbye kiss.
Leak Orso's three keys for the Alligators are:
1) Stuff the run (with the nickel D)
2) Get Harvin involved
3) Don't kick field goals
Herb Kirkstreit's three keys for the Blackeyes are:
1) Win the psychological battle (because Fla. is out to prove Ohio State is a fraud)
2) Spread and balanced offense
3) Make Florida earn everything
Herbie, Herbie, Herbie ... it'll be a long winter without your jelled coiff, hazel eyes and raspy voice for us to mock/taunt.
During one of the College LameDay preview shows 'round Xmas time, Herbie boldly proclaimed, "I'm warning you right now, watch out for Notre Dame against LSU in the Sugar Bowl."
It was laughable before the game, more laughable after.
In his defense, though, LSU began to seLf-deStrUct, but didn't have the balls to completely seLf-deStrUct vs. the Farting Irish.
Shucks.
In the end, all we know about OSU-FLA is that the Big 11 was one puhhhhh-thetic conference this year. By the same token, the "team speed/team speed/team speed" concept in the SEC (which we learn about from the day we're born) is a complete myth, given Wisconsin's win over Arkansas and Penn State's win over Tennessee last week.
How's that team speed working out for Oklahoma vs. Boise State?
The game's about blocking, it's about tackling, it's about executing on every play (not just some plays or most plays) and it's about steering clear of ridiculous turnovers which absolutely kill a team.
It's not about "don't kick field goals."
Or which "sets" Team X is showing to Team Y.
These analysists fall so deeply in love with "concepts" and window-dressing minutae.
Does Player A have a huge advantage ove Player B if Player A runs a 4.33 40 and Player B runs a 4.54 40?
Good gravy, no ... not if Player A brings his A-game only 47 percent of the time.
So, tonight, we'll find out who wins the classic one-on-one matchups.
Again, LameDay did a bang-up job giving America ZERO in-the-trenches matchups (because LameDay is layyyyy-zeee).
So, right now, let's picture Ohio State center Kirk Lowdermilk mixing it up with Florida DE Trace Armstrong.
Or, let's picture Gator OL Zac Zedalis squaring off against OSU DE Alonzo Spellman.
Butler By'not'e just got tripped up on the KOR by Bobby Xynidas.
If ya haven't watched any college football in the past 20 years (hi, Leak Orso!), those names won't mean anything to you ...
Behind the pickles and the orange juice.
And, because of the confusion regarding the shelf-life of such matters, it's not easy to remember what's inside.
Until we peel back the foil.
These are not leftovers to be disguised as a casserole. It's so much more.
But, what exactly is at stake here? After all, this is the first time since the 2001 season in which our college football championship dreams of touchdowns and lollipops won't be influenced by USC asking, "What about us?"
And, that's what's a little odd because the '06 Men of Troy were nearly as good as the Trojan warhorses of '02, '03, '04 and '05 -- except for puzzling slip-ups against very ordinary Oregon State an UCLA.
Since no one seems willing to provide an in-depth analysis of just how much the losses of Brandon Ting and Ryan Ting impacted 'SC's program (and Troy's capacity to dish out an ass-beaTING), a nation will turn it's eyes to another Troy.
Exactly ... the guy who won the Heisman Troy-phy.
It all begins with the stripes on the jersey sleeves of the Ohio State Blackeyes.
Nobody's said a word about it all season (is it taboo?), but the stripe-configuration is clearly different.
In previous seasons (and as recently as last year), the stripe pattern on the scarlet jerseys was the same design as what the Steelers and the Packers still have (except those teams use yellow as the chief color; the Blackeyes use silver/gray).
This year, the Blackeyes have worn scarlet jerseys wherein the sleeves have two thin white stripes with an extremely-thin black border. It's the sleeve-stripe design which was worn by the Blackeyes during the final three years of The Schlichter Era ('79 thru '81), as anyone who was the under-secretary of the Sub-Committee on Schlichter Affairs can tell you.
There are photos here to prove it.
Photos of a handsome #10 with stickers on his helmet.
Speaking of which ... has anyone questioned TresselVest's extremely liberal helmet-sticker policy?
The new #10 -- the Heisman Troy-phy winner -- has too many on his shiny silver headgear. In fact, Troy Smith's helmet is completely covered with decals, a by-product of the over-sticker-ization of the Blackeye helmet.
America is definitely up in arms about gaining access to the Blackeye-sticker qualification list.
What is the criteria?
"Show up to practice on time ... Blackeye sticker!"
"Wearing pants while showing up to practice on time ... Blackeye sticker!"
Speaking of the hard-shelled bonnet, Heisman Troy-phy will attempt to become the first QB to win a national championship while wearing a shield on his facemask.
Imagine that ... the FIRST shield-wearing QB in BCS history.
While Troy Smith has worn a tinted bug shield before, the best guess-timate for tonight's game is that he'll have a clear shield.
It's manufactured by Nike (of course).
However, as we learned from our Nov. 19 entry ("Heisman Troy-phy"), Mighty Troy doesn't look as cool with the windshield on his helmet as Greg Frey did during his days as a Blackeye QB (when Herb Kirkstreit was a frosh QB on campus).
But, that's only because Greg Frey was a white dude wearing a tinted bug shield before it became vogue.
Pretty soon, guys like Jim McMahon and Dan McGwire were pasty white dudes wearing the tinted shield.
Greg Frey, though ... he was the first.
First college QB, anyway.
So, we've addressed the dress code -- although, through the years, the Blackeyes have often crossed us up, switching from black cleats to the completely awwwwwsummm white cleats, which they wore from the mid-'70s thru the '80s ... until they switched to those kinda-cool red cleats ... before switching back to black cleats ... which gave way to the popular (but ugly) black cleat w/ black socks look.
America needs to decide for itself if it likes the black cleat/black socks look -- and if such a look is more-offensive than when the Alligators broke out the white helmets with the block "F" (which they wore during their game against Alabama)
In this fashion-plate expose, we're thanking our lucky stars that FLA has retained the white cleat/white sock combo which, too often, has faded from the coll. FB landscape.
Anyway, the Alligators will use their orange-n'-blue powers to do on the same field (University of Phoenix Stadium) what the blue-n'-orange Boise State Broncos did one week earlier to the Sooner Schooner in a memorable Fiesta Bowl.
And, the Urban Legend will attempt to win a national championship by going against all of the wisdom of "fireronzook.com."
Again, it's a classic case of new coach winning with the guys he didn't recruit.
It doesn't take an urban legend to realize that when you've got 'em by the balls, their hearts n' minds will follow.
Now, a textbook example of Urban's legacy as part-magician, part-genius was never more evident than the classic moment from the SEC Championship when he waved his magic wand in the third quarter.
You remember it:
Arkansas had just scored a TD on one of its funky Darren McFadden, option-TD passes to pull to within 17-14 and, a few minutes later, Razorblades D-lineman Antwain Robinson stepped in front of that baby-toss, two-foot shovel pass from Chris Leak and chugged 40 yards for a TD and a 21-17 Hogs lead.
That's when Urban dialed upon some wicked sorcery.
Following an Arkansas punt, the Alligators were about to run their first play of the possession (on 1st-and-10 from their own 15) when Urb called timeout.
Three plays later, the Alligators faced 4th-and-10 -- and the Eric Wilbur was summoned to punt.
Only Wilbur didn't kick the ball. Instead -- in a horrifically-slow-developing, fake-punt scenario, Wilbur gave the ball to Jemalle Cornelius, who swept around the left side and gained 17 yards to the 32-yard line.
After two plays netted three yards, Urb burned his second timeout of the series.
When a 6-yard pass from Leak to Percy Harvin brought on a 4th-and-1 from the Gator 41, Urb spent his final timeout of the half.
Urb decided that it would serve the Alligators' best interests to punt the ball -- and, this time, Wilbur really did.
Only thing is, Arkansas' Reggie Fish muffed the kick inside his own 5-yard line and the ball danced free in the end zone.
That was where, among a threesome or foursome of converging Alligators, Wonty Pierre-Louis emerged as the player who made the recovery for a Florida touchdown.
Verne Lundquist informed his CBS audience that Wonty Pierre-Louis was born in Haiti.
That sequence cemented his image as the Urban Legend. It was what the anti-Zookists had asserted all along -- that the Alligators needed a head coach who was a visionary ... thay it was impossible for the revelers to execute a Swamp Romp Stomp n' Chomp unless the head coach was willing to burn all three timeouts on one possession which featured the Big Three of classic plays: 1) Fake punt 2) Actual punt 3) Real-live muffed punt recovered for a TD by the Haitian dude.
Sure, Boise State head coach Chris Petersen pulled a game outta the fire with a hook-n'-ladder play, the WR-turned-HB-option pass and the insane Statue of Liberty play, but Boise's sequence lacked the originality and vision of Urb's master plan.
Timeout, fake punt, timeout, timeout, punt, muff, a TD for Haiti.
Urb's intellect CAN take over games. He seizes such opportunities.
Take the win over LSU. With 22 seconds until halftime in a 7-7 game, Urb diagrammed the unforgettable Tim Tebow play wherein the frosh QB double-clutched a 1-yard, jump-pass TD.
Then, after a halftime spent working with new diagrams and re-working old diagrams, Urb drew up a special play -- "Watch The LSU Return Man Shit His Pants While Dealing With The Second-Half Kickoff."
That muff resulted in a safety, not a TD for a Haitian -- but did nothing to tarnish Urban Muffer's legacy as master strategist and tactician.
Urb'll be the first to tell ya: Strategy ain't nuthin' without tactics.
Just as tactics ain't squat without strategy.
This is what TresselVest must weigh ... that, and a 51-day layoff for his squad.
So much down time tends to render pre-game prognostications moot. After all, there's nothing coll. FB players love more than practicing for a month and a half and havin' no enemy to hit (and to exchange smack with) at the end of each 7-day installment.
Seven weeks of practice without seven games at the end of each week.
Makes sense ...
Uh oh, those knuckleheads are here to offer their goodbye kiss.
Leak Orso's three keys for the Alligators are:
1) Stuff the run (with the nickel D)
2) Get Harvin involved
3) Don't kick field goals
Herb Kirkstreit's three keys for the Blackeyes are:
1) Win the psychological battle (because Fla. is out to prove Ohio State is a fraud)
2) Spread and balanced offense
3) Make Florida earn everything
Herbie, Herbie, Herbie ... it'll be a long winter without your jelled coiff, hazel eyes and raspy voice for us to mock/taunt.
During one of the College LameDay preview shows 'round Xmas time, Herbie boldly proclaimed, "I'm warning you right now, watch out for Notre Dame against LSU in the Sugar Bowl."
It was laughable before the game, more laughable after.
In his defense, though, LSU began to seLf-deStrUct, but didn't have the balls to completely seLf-deStrUct vs. the Farting Irish.
Shucks.
In the end, all we know about OSU-FLA is that the Big 11 was one puhhhhh-thetic conference this year. By the same token, the "team speed/team speed/team speed" concept in the SEC (which we learn about from the day we're born) is a complete myth, given Wisconsin's win over Arkansas and Penn State's win over Tennessee last week.
How's that team speed working out for Oklahoma vs. Boise State?
The game's about blocking, it's about tackling, it's about executing on every play (not just some plays or most plays) and it's about steering clear of ridiculous turnovers which absolutely kill a team.
It's not about "don't kick field goals."
Or which "sets" Team X is showing to Team Y.
These analysists fall so deeply in love with "concepts" and window-dressing minutae.
Does Player A have a huge advantage ove Player B if Player A runs a 4.33 40 and Player B runs a 4.54 40?
Good gravy, no ... not if Player A brings his A-game only 47 percent of the time.
So, tonight, we'll find out who wins the classic one-on-one matchups.
Again, LameDay did a bang-up job giving America ZERO in-the-trenches matchups (because LameDay is layyyyy-zeee).
So, right now, let's picture Ohio State center Kirk Lowdermilk mixing it up with Florida DE Trace Armstrong.
Or, let's picture Gator OL Zac Zedalis squaring off against OSU DE Alonzo Spellman.
Butler By'not'e just got tripped up on the KOR by Bobby Xynidas.
If ya haven't watched any college football in the past 20 years (hi, Leak Orso!), those names won't mean anything to you ...
Saturday, January 06, 2007
The Knights of Posterior
The weather was so impressively-springtime-like here in the Mid-Atlantic Corridor (thank you, fossil fuels and greenhouse gasses for teaming up to provide earth-warming goodness which provided us with the unconditional splendor of a 70-degree, January Saturday) that some of us actually stopped taking sides in debates of Sunni insurgents vs. Shiite militias and, doggone it ... we trekked out into the wilderness.
At least, into the wilderness which is Sbarro
Saturdays and Sbarro go nicely -- unlike the Sunni insurgents and the Shiite militia ...
Yup ... rather than resolving ourselves to the isolation and despair which was the inaugural International Bowl, it was time to return to the living. It hardly seems like it was two Saturdays ago (way back in 2006) when our heroic Men of Sparta were stickin' it to Urlacher College in the inaugural New Mexico Bowl, most notably when QB Adam Tafralis chucked that 70-something-yard TD pass to WR John Broussard when there wasn't a defender within 20 yards (no lie ... TWENTY!) of the receiver.
And was it really only last Saturday when all sorts of mayhem broke out at the at the Meineke Car Care Bowl (formerly the Continental Tire Bowl), the Alamo Bowl (originally the Builder's Square Alamo Bowl) and the Chick-fil-A Bowl (formerly the Chick-fil-A Peach Bowl)?
Indeed ... that was the final Saturday of '06, spent with our favorite players, Kaipo What'sHisName-O, Lie Muss Swede and Math You Stafford.
And, God bless your soul, PFC Kevin on Panel 17E.
Whether the Sunni insurgents and the Shiite militia know it, college football still offers the best dollar value for Americans -- and it's for that reason that more people give a rat's ass about the Cinshitnati Bearcraps blowing a 24-0 leading to Western Michigan (but, still winning, 27-24) than they concern themselves about the b-ball team at O'Reilly Auto Parts University winning its Big XII opener with a powerful statement against football powerhouse, Sooner Schooner.
That was Career Victory No. 881 (which is a record ... for men's b-ball, anyway) for the O'Reilly Auto Parts University head coach and his son, the "head coach designate."
The hoopla surrounding Career Victory No. 881 was almost nil, however ... that more or less matched the notariety that the Lubbockians and Lubbockites gave to Mike Leach and the Texas Tech football team (which has a "TT" on the helmet) after they rallied from deficits of 28-0 and 38-7 while defeating Minnesota in the Insight Bowl.
For Mike Leach, his identity crisis is very simple.
He doesn't speak "O'Reill-ese" -- and, until he has his players with OAP decals on their helmets, the program will suffer.
However, this may (or may not coincide) with what this Planet predicted one month ago:
"Mike Leach is no Spike Dykes and, although you're a football school (in theory), Bob Knight is going to break Dean Smith's all-time career wins record before your TTU football fraud is pummeled in the Insight/Independence Bowl. That's something to look forward to." -- "INCOMPLETE EMPTYING," 11/04/06)
Take it easy, Mike Leach. Spike Dykes was no Rex Dockery -- and Coach O'Reilly Auto Parts and Head Coach O'Reilly Auto Parts, Jr. probably aren't going to get O'Reilly Auto Parts University b-ballers past the second round of the Big Dance in March.
FYI: The Golden Gophers WERE pummeling you for five-eighths (62.5 percent) of that Insight Bowl Which Nobody Watched (On The NFL Network).
Meanwhile, "yes" ... it was an intrusion when Knight violated our personal space several days ago with Win No. 880. It disrupted the flow of our New Year's Day bowl-game viewership -- and witnessing the Head Coach Designate offering an awkward semi-quasi-half-hug to the ol' man dented our brain so much that even Erin Andrews' more-clingy-than-usual sweater (which she wore in curvaceous fashion at the Wisconsin-Arkansas Capital One Bowl) could not un-dent it.
In the New Year's Day aftermath, it was interesting to see/hear Pusburger had made it safely to Columbus for the IU game vs. 28-year-old Greg Oden one night after his Rose Bowl broadcast.
And, Erin Andrews made it to Columbus, too ... with a different, but just-as-clingy sweater for 28-year-old Greg Oden to gawk at.
Enough about 28-year-old freshmen who'll stop attending classes roughly 15 seconds after Ohio State's loss in the Elite Eight of the NCAA Tournament.
And, here's something else about hard work: Y'know how we're force-fed (by the Disney/Knight B-Ball Enterprise) those clips of Knight barking his way through an O'Reilly Auto Parts University practice with gruff platitudes about "Hard work, goddammit!" or "Outworking the other guy, growl growl growl"?
Once you look behind the gruff nature of it all (and once you ponder sending the ol' guy to a day spa so that he can get his eyebrows trimmed, as the Mrs. wants him to do), you're tempted to perform an audit and ask, "Would someone do me a favor and access Patrick Knight's timecards for the past 10 years?"
It's then that the truth would be exposed.
That 6-foot-5, carboard cut-out has been coasting for, ummmm ... 18 years? 19?
That depends how much work he actually put in as an "assistant coach" at (cough!) "Akron."
KNIGHT (bangs the center of the steering wheel with his fist): "Jesus Christ! This is bullshit! I'm not here for a fucking inquisition! And if that's what this is, then get the fuck out and hitchhike back home! The fucking stepfather was a fucking goddamn fucking asshole from the word goddamn go. He fucking lied and he lied and he lied! Jesus Christ! I mean, this is my fucking life we're talking about! My fucking heart was ripped out by this goddamn bullshit!"
It is this Planet's privilege to re-print those immortal words because, sometimes, F-bombs keep us focused.
Unless he was talking simply for the sake of hearing his own voice, logic would dictate that if he allowed 'Playboy' to put his words into print, it was so that non-b'ballin' civilians would have written material which would serve as guidelines for their lives
Before the dad of the O'Reilly Auto Parts University's "head coach designate" drops me off, figuratively, in F-ing Dayton, we must all rest up for what promises to be a breathtaking GMAC Bowl less than 24 hours from now.
Maybe our best GMAC matchup ever: Southern Miss. vs. Ohio.
The GMAC Bowl isn't to be taken lightly -- nor are we to dismiss the GMC ads on TV wherein we see Tampa Bay Bandits QB John Reaves throwing a TD pass to Eric Truvillion.
When the season opened, the Steelers had two GMAC Bowl MVPs on the roster -- Ben Roethlisberger and Omar Jacobs.
You don't see that very often.
And, we saw it less often because Jacobs was released from the Steelers practice squad five days after the season-opening win over the Dolphins.
The Eagles signed Jacobs in late-Nov.
But, now the GMAC Bowl and Knight's antics are laughing matters which don't matter because the news just hit the wire that USC placekicker Mario Danelo was found dead at the bottom of a cliff in San Pedro.
We're six days into 2007 and already we've lost two football players (Darrent Williams and now Danelo) who didn't live to see 25.
We're always kiddin' around and horsin' around here at the Haystack, but those deaths ... that's messed-up ...
At least, into the wilderness which is Sbarro
Saturdays and Sbarro go nicely -- unlike the Sunni insurgents and the Shiite militia ...
Yup ... rather than resolving ourselves to the isolation and despair which was the inaugural International Bowl, it was time to return to the living. It hardly seems like it was two Saturdays ago (way back in 2006) when our heroic Men of Sparta were stickin' it to Urlacher College in the inaugural New Mexico Bowl, most notably when QB Adam Tafralis chucked that 70-something-yard TD pass to WR John Broussard when there wasn't a defender within 20 yards (no lie ... TWENTY!) of the receiver.
And was it really only last Saturday when all sorts of mayhem broke out at the at the Meineke Car Care Bowl (formerly the Continental Tire Bowl), the Alamo Bowl (originally the Builder's Square Alamo Bowl) and the Chick-fil-A Bowl (formerly the Chick-fil-A Peach Bowl)?
Indeed ... that was the final Saturday of '06, spent with our favorite players, Kaipo What'sHisName-O, Lie Muss Swede and Math You Stafford.
And, God bless your soul, PFC Kevin on Panel 17E.
Whether the Sunni insurgents and the Shiite militia know it, college football still offers the best dollar value for Americans -- and it's for that reason that more people give a rat's ass about the Cinshitnati Bearcraps blowing a 24-0 leading to Western Michigan (but, still winning, 27-24) than they concern themselves about the b-ball team at O'Reilly Auto Parts University winning its Big XII opener with a powerful statement against football powerhouse, Sooner Schooner.
That was Career Victory No. 881 (which is a record ... for men's b-ball, anyway) for the O'Reilly Auto Parts University head coach and his son, the "head coach designate."
The hoopla surrounding Career Victory No. 881 was almost nil, however ... that more or less matched the notariety that the Lubbockians and Lubbockites gave to Mike Leach and the Texas Tech football team (which has a "TT" on the helmet) after they rallied from deficits of 28-0 and 38-7 while defeating Minnesota in the Insight Bowl.
For Mike Leach, his identity crisis is very simple.
He doesn't speak "O'Reill-ese" -- and, until he has his players with OAP decals on their helmets, the program will suffer.
However, this may (or may not coincide) with what this Planet predicted one month ago:
"Mike Leach is no Spike Dykes and, although you're a football school (in theory), Bob Knight is going to break Dean Smith's all-time career wins record before your TTU football fraud is pummeled in the Insight/Independence Bowl. That's something to look forward to." -- "INCOMPLETE EMPTYING," 11/04/06)
Take it easy, Mike Leach. Spike Dykes was no Rex Dockery -- and Coach O'Reilly Auto Parts and Head Coach O'Reilly Auto Parts, Jr. probably aren't going to get O'Reilly Auto Parts University b-ballers past the second round of the Big Dance in March.
FYI: The Golden Gophers WERE pummeling you for five-eighths (62.5 percent) of that Insight Bowl Which Nobody Watched (On The NFL Network).
Meanwhile, "yes" ... it was an intrusion when Knight violated our personal space several days ago with Win No. 880. It disrupted the flow of our New Year's Day bowl-game viewership -- and witnessing the Head Coach Designate offering an awkward semi-quasi-half-hug to the ol' man dented our brain so much that even Erin Andrews' more-clingy-than-usual sweater (which she wore in curvaceous fashion at the Wisconsin-Arkansas Capital One Bowl) could not un-dent it.
In the New Year's Day aftermath, it was interesting to see/hear Pusburger had made it safely to Columbus for the IU game vs. 28-year-old Greg Oden one night after his Rose Bowl broadcast.
And, Erin Andrews made it to Columbus, too ... with a different, but just-as-clingy sweater for 28-year-old Greg Oden to gawk at.
Enough about 28-year-old freshmen who'll stop attending classes roughly 15 seconds after Ohio State's loss in the Elite Eight of the NCAA Tournament.
And, here's something else about hard work: Y'know how we're force-fed (by the Disney/Knight B-Ball Enterprise) those clips of Knight barking his way through an O'Reilly Auto Parts University practice with gruff platitudes about "Hard work, goddammit!" or "Outworking the other guy, growl growl growl"?
Once you look behind the gruff nature of it all (and once you ponder sending the ol' guy to a day spa so that he can get his eyebrows trimmed, as the Mrs. wants him to do), you're tempted to perform an audit and ask, "Would someone do me a favor and access Patrick Knight's timecards for the past 10 years?"
It's then that the truth would be exposed.
That 6-foot-5, carboard cut-out has been coasting for, ummmm ... 18 years? 19?
That depends how much work he actually put in as an "assistant coach" at (cough!) "Akron."
KNIGHT (bangs the center of the steering wheel with his fist): "Jesus Christ! This is bullshit! I'm not here for a fucking inquisition! And if that's what this is, then get the fuck out and hitchhike back home! The fucking stepfather was a fucking goddamn fucking asshole from the word goddamn go. He fucking lied and he lied and he lied! Jesus Christ! I mean, this is my fucking life we're talking about! My fucking heart was ripped out by this goddamn bullshit!"
It is this Planet's privilege to re-print those immortal words because, sometimes, F-bombs keep us focused.
Unless he was talking simply for the sake of hearing his own voice, logic would dictate that if he allowed 'Playboy' to put his words into print, it was so that non-b'ballin' civilians would have written material which would serve as guidelines for their lives
Before the dad of the O'Reilly Auto Parts University's "head coach designate" drops me off, figuratively, in F-ing Dayton, we must all rest up for what promises to be a breathtaking GMAC Bowl less than 24 hours from now.
Maybe our best GMAC matchup ever: Southern Miss. vs. Ohio.
The GMAC Bowl isn't to be taken lightly -- nor are we to dismiss the GMC ads on TV wherein we see Tampa Bay Bandits QB John Reaves throwing a TD pass to Eric Truvillion.
When the season opened, the Steelers had two GMAC Bowl MVPs on the roster -- Ben Roethlisberger and Omar Jacobs.
You don't see that very often.
And, we saw it less often because Jacobs was released from the Steelers practice squad five days after the season-opening win over the Dolphins.
The Eagles signed Jacobs in late-Nov.
But, now the GMAC Bowl and Knight's antics are laughing matters which don't matter because the news just hit the wire that USC placekicker Mario Danelo was found dead at the bottom of a cliff in San Pedro.
We're six days into 2007 and already we've lost two football players (Darrent Williams and now Danelo) who didn't live to see 25.
We're always kiddin' around and horsin' around here at the Haystack, but those deaths ... that's messed-up ...
Friday, January 05, 2007
COWHER POWER Unplugged
As the world sat around Friday awaiting the 1 o'clock official announcement of Bill Cowher's official resignation, the one thought that came to mind for a lot of us were those immortal words:
IN HOC SIGNES VINCES
For those who flunked Latin in high school (and even for those who didn't), no ... the expression is not something that Cowher screamed as he led Team Terrible Towel into battle. Truth be told , it's merely the Latin phrase on the tiny banner beneath the tiny crest on this (and every) regulation-sized pack of Pall Malls.
"In hoc signes vinces ..."
Supposedly, it means, "in this sign, you shall conquer."
Yeah ... that kinda/sorta fits. Yet, on this, the day when the Steelers and Cowher parted ways, sometimes the only way to choke back the tears is to glance down at your pack of Pall Malls -- and then to ponder the Latin words on that tiny crest positioned above the tiny banner on this regulation-sized pack of smokes:
PER ASPERA AD ASTRA
According to the translationistas who handle such translation matters, "per aspera ad astra" means "through difficulties to the stars."
Apparently, that's also taken to mean that "through hardships, we were taken to new heights."
Even if he doesn't chain-smoke like most of us in America, Cowher definitely did just that.
What's impressive is that we can break down the meaning of Latin expressions without the assistance of those Latin ballplayers (who actually don't speak a word of Latin, but since they were born in places in what is known as "Latin America," we're supposed to shrug it off when every sportswriter under the sun feels the need to call those players "Latin").
Regardless, the Latin expression which seems most-applicable and most-embraceable as The Cowher Power Era ends is:
VENI, VIDI, VICI
"We came, we saw, we conquered ..."
Imagine that ... those are the words which appear on the crest on every pack of Marlboros.
Question: Why are tobacco companies spending so much time conquering Latin?
Without a Berlitz phrase book, the best answer to the question of "who'll replace Cowher?" as the Steelers' field general might be, "It's Greek to me."
No doubt, the Rooney Family will make the right choice, as long as that choice is not Frickin' Cam Frickin' Cameron (O-coordinator for Marty Shittyheimer, Cowher's mentor).
Hopefully, one of the two in-house front-runners -- Ken Whisenhunt or Russ Grimm -- will get the nod.
It'll be weird for all of us when there isn't that jutting jaw leading the Black N' Gold onto the field for the season opener in '07.
Then again, will our hearts be filled with THAT much more ambivalence and uncertainty than they were in Jan. '92 when we learned that the three finalists to replace Chuck Noll were three nobodies named "Wannstedt," "Gilbride" and "Cowher"?
What the frick?
We noticed that when he was fielding questions from the media, Cowher elaborated only slightly on his very first game -- that 29-24 win over the Houston Oilers at the Astrodome -- but that he twice alluded to the fake punt in that game.
For those of us who didn't make the trip to Houston, we were wishing we could've seen a highlight of punter Mark Royals' 44-yard completion to Warren Williams.
Was it a tight spiral?
For those of us who were serving as director of the Terrible Towel's West Coast Bureau at the time, those early days of Cowher Power had us somewhat (although not entirely) skeptical.
The Black N' Gold went 11-5 during Cowher's rookie campaign and, then, with home-field advantage throughout the playoffs, laid a big, 24-3, egg to Buffalo at Three Rivers.
Bill couldn't conquer the Bills.
After an 0-2 start to begin '93, Cowher got the boys to battle back for a a 9-7 record -- but, alas, a gut-wrenching, OT defeat in K.C. (to Bill's mentor, Shittyheimer ... which, by the way, was one week before the most-recent MartyBall playoff win) was the final disappointment.
The '94 season ... jeez, we don't even want to talk about how the 12-4 team had that schedule conflict: Make a Super Bowl video or cover Albert Pupunu?
Dom Capers found it necessary to blitz 15 guys to rattle Ralph Friedgen's QB, yeeesh ...
Ron Erhardt ... nice idea throwin' to Barry Foster on fourth down ...
Cowher, Year IV resounded with a battle cry of "Three More Yards" ... well, the AFC Championship game vs. the Colts will live forever -- but, O'Donnell's two Super Bowl passes to ... who exactly?
In the time between Cowher philosophizing to his 9-year-old Meagan, "Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose" and giving her a quick peck moments after SB XXX and the time when 19-year Meagan bear-hugged Dad following SB XL, all of us probably came to appreciate Cowher more.
Of course, the bridge which gapped 9-year-old Meagan and 19-year-old Meagan centered largely around that 6-10 season of '03 and most of us saying, "If he follows that up with a 7-9 or an 8-8, he's toast."
So, Cowher put the power back into Cowher Power and he went ballistic with a 15-1 record.
Maybe it was due to per aspera ad astra ... maybe not.
(Note: When ya watch highlights of Cowher getting the Gatorade shower at the end of SB XL, notice the force with which Marvel Smith tips over the bucket. Dude damn near broke Cowher's clavicle ... )
Immediately after the Cowher presser, ESPN's Trey Wingo conducted a mostly-bland interveiw with Kordell Stewart. What makes this intriguing is that, instead of Slash, wouldn't ESPN have been wiser to go with its own "Hodgie" -- former Steeler backfield warhorse Merril Hoge?
Hoge played for both Chuck Noll and Cowher and he could tie together the two and perhaps offer the viewers some insight as to the mood of Pittsburgh in Dec. '91 (when Noll announced his retirement) as to what the organization might do in the weeks ahead, circa "right now."
(Note: Exactly! As if any of us is going to tell ESPN how to butcher a no-brainer assignment. Initial reports, though, did indicate that the Worldwide Leader originally intended to send Dick Vitale to the Heinz Field parking lot and have him yell, "Cowher Power! He's awwww-summm, bayyyy-beeee! Unnn-beee-leee-vuhhh-bulll!")
The difference between Noll and Cowher might boil down to the mere mathematics of timing and age.
When Noll retired, he'd been to the playoffs only four times in his final 12 seasons (1980-'91).
Cowher went to the postseason in 10 of his 15 seasons and, despite missing the playoffs this year, the memories of a 15-1 record followed by SB XL the following season, well, those are very recent memories.
(Note: It is a little mind-boggling to consider that three times Noll lost in the AFC Championship Game and four times Cowher lost in the AFC Championship game -- all at home -- so, once you add it all up ... that's 13 (basically, one-third) of the 40 conference championship games for the Black N' Gold, which is a lot more than can be said for the Chiefs n' Colts n' Browns n' Broncos n' Chargers n' Bengals n' Jets n' Laughingstock Raiders, etc ... )
Strangely, a confluence of circumstances has tied Jan. '07 to Jan. '92.
The recent images of Cowher at his first press conference, well ... back then, he had more hair (which was parted in the middle) and he was wearing a suit n' tie.
Jan. '92 ... that was a simpler time when the girl you thought you were going to marry was not what you thought she was so you couldn't "crown her ass!" (as Denny Green says) -- which was OK, 'cuz Jan. '92 was when the girl you did marry gave you an autographed photo of Chuck Noll for you to hang in the West Coast Bureau of TerribleTowelTown.
Jan. '92 ... Bob Knight was in the news as having the best team in the nation (which just happened to be your favorite team) ... and, every time you sat down to watch the NHL, your favorite player (Stevie Y) was performing magic near the blue line.
So, how ironic is it that Cowher's "resignation" press conference (he's not retiring, dammit) occurs four days after Knight registers his record-setting 880th win and three days after Steve Yzerman's #19 is retired and raised to the rafters at Joe Louis Arena?
At least this news didn't come as a surprise. Cowher was thoughtful enough to let America know that his decision would come sometime during the week after the season finale, thereby allowing nothing that he said to diminish THE football news of the week -- that being the Boise Boyz's hook-and-ladder, the receiver-turned-halfback-option and the Statue of Liberty magnificence during the conquest of Oklahoma.
Despite that glory, it's time to come to grips with Cowher The Conqueror moving on. The theoristicians and hypotheticalistas have theorized and hypothesized that Bill will sit out the Autumn of '07 (and maybe '08) and then take his re-charged batteries back out onto the battlefield when he leads the Carolina Panthers into their '09 season opener.
That is, unless Cowher is guiding the Pitt Panthers into their '09 season opener (after Wannstache is fired).
If there is a faction of Steeler Nation out there who believes that Cowher is "bailing," such a viewpoint probably shouldn't be dismissed as "invalid."
A sense of resentment is understandable.
After all, if Cowher is walking away -- with a year left on his contract -- because he felt as though the Steelers needed new blood (and because he didn't perceive himself as the right man for the job), well ... OK, sort of.
After all, he does have a year remaining on what we imagine is a fairly-lucrative contract.
However, if he's resigning solely because he wants to watch his daughters play basketball and because his golf game needs work --at age 49 -- you can empathize with those who say, "Tough sh*t, Bill."
Blue-collar Steel Town might not be the place to make such "I'm-quitting-'cuz-I-feel-like-it" remarks. There must be thousands of citizens in and around the 'Burgh whose dads, uncles, brothers went to work each day for the honor of filling their lungs with coal soot ... but, at age 49, they couldn't walk away simply because they were bummed that they three-putted on the 14th green.
There are coal miners and steel workers who didn't live to see their 49th birthday.
If Cowher was leaving to for an obscene amount of green from another team, again ... OK. That stuff happens. More $$$ in the bank for the Mrs. and three girls never hurts.
Then again, if Cowher does become the head coach at Carolina in '09, Steeler Nation will need to find a happy medium between the conflict rattling inside their heads and the betrayal felt in their hearts.
Cowher has hinted that he has more gas left in his tank ... that he respects and admires the Rooney Family and the city of Pittsburgh ... and he confessed that he's not burned out and that he's not in poor health ... so, for argument's sake, is he really merely walking away from the Steelers?
Or is he turning his back on the team, the organization and the fans for reasons beyond what he's revealed?
If, in fact, this is a matter of "spending more time with the family," then why not do what Notre Dame's Charlie Weis does -- have your teeanger there with you on the sideline so that the kid is in the background every time the TV cameras catch a glimpse of you during 3rd-and-inches?
Have not the Steelers implemented a viable "Take Your Daughter To Work Day" policy?
In a semi-related story, there's another legendary coach in the Keystone State ... a coach who, when he was five weeks shy of his 49th birthday, was in his 10th season as head coach and saw his Nittany Lions lose at home, 15-14, to North Carolina State and their head coach, Lou Holtz, and their freshman linebacker Bill Cowher (who probably didn't see action in that game as most frosh didn't "back in the day").
That was the autumn of 1975.
Funny how it all comes together without the benefit of a Hefty Cinch Sak for, as he put it, "this Crafton boy." And, wouldn't ya know it, Cowher de Crafton's final college game for the NC State Wolfpack was a victory over his hometown Pitt Panthers in the '78 Tangerine Bowl.
Now, Cowher walks away from the Steel City two weeks after Joe Paterno turned 80 ... on the same day that Chuck Noll turned 75 and a day before Holtz turns 70.
As per Cowher's press conference itself ... sure, he looked/sounded composed, dignified, articulate and sincere.
That is, if he believes everything he said -- which there's a 93 percent chance that he did.
That sweater, with its zany, outdated print, was a little frightening, though.
Knit garments aside, the signature of his 15 years in Pittsburgh was that he never lacked for passion and emotion -- and his teams reflected that.
Some of us occasionally (it sez "occasionally") questioned Cowher's ability to manage the game as it was unfolding. He had some personnel issues worth nitpicking, such as a carousel at QB, highlighted by the decision to start Jim Miller at Jacksonville in the '96 opener and the ill-fated Kent Graham Experiment in the '00 opener vs. Baltimore.
Other than than that, however, his teams always played balls-out for him, no matter how badly free agency left his roster in a state of flux.
In other words, he was (and always will be) the anti-thesis of Nick Saban, whose Latin motto is:
ODERINT DUM METUANT
"Let them hate, so long as they fear ... "
Believe it or not, those are the words that appear on the crest of every pack of Saban Country Cigarettes (available as Saban Country 100's, Saban County Lights and Saban Country Menthol and, coming soon ... Saban Country International Blend Unfiltereds).
That is ... if Nick Saban ever got off his dead ass long enough to oversee the manufacturing of a cigaret that the kids could believe in ...
Anyway, back in the zone which is Cowher Power, the consensus is that his players laid it out for him likely because most of 'em realized that he'd been through the NFL wars as a player. And, it's always been the belief of this tribunal that Cowher loading his staff with ex-NFL'ers (Whisenhunt, LeBeau, Grimm, Hoak, Butler, Perry, Horton) provided an advantage over NFL staffs composed of dopes who played a little JC ball maybe 14 or 15 years ago, although this is more speculation than scientific methodology.
We'll all find out soon how much of this staff remains intact with the new Steeler field boss. A lot of us still remember the illuminaries on Coach Noll's final staff ... ex-Steeler heroes such as Mean Joe and Jon Kolb (both starters in four Super Bowls) plus John Fox, Todd Blackledge's daddy, Joe Walton and, of course, Dick Hoak.
Perhaps lost amid all of the Cowher Power frenzy was the tiny detail that three days before Cowher resigned, Dick Hoak retired after 45 years with the Steelers ... 10 years as running back (1961-70) and 35 years as the running backs coach (1972-2006).
That's insane ... 45 years decked out in Black N' Gold.
We'll see if "the new guy" can assemble a staff of assistants as well as Noll and Cowher did. While Hoak was retained to maintain the ground game (Barry Foster went bananas in '92), Cowher's "defense first" philosphy seemed to be in good hands with the creation of his first group of assistants -- D-coordinator Dom Capers, linebackers coach Marvin Lewis, and DB coach Dick LeBeau.
It was two years later when John Mitchell was hired as the D-line coach ... a position he hasn't let go of, 13 seasons later.
So, the search is on (please don't be Cam Cameron. please don't be Cam Cameron, please don't be Cam Cameron ... ).
Next stop for Coach Jutting Jaw: "Canton."
That is, unless he's coaching in Carolina.
Whether he's there or wherever, it's hoped that Dermontti Dawson (a stalwart for 9 of Cowher's 15 seasons) also ends up in Canton.
In the fifteen seasons of Cowher Power, he did it with TWO centers -- Dawson ('92-'00) and Jeff Hartings ('01-current ... made his first pro start at center in the '01 opener).
However, now that Cowher has checked out and the Steelers are sittin' at home not defending their SB XL title, America can rev its engine for a postseason filled with Tom Coughlin and some dork they're calling "The Mangini-ous."
Sounds like a good time to step outside for a smoke ...
IN HOC SIGNES VINCES
For those who flunked Latin in high school (and even for those who didn't), no ... the expression is not something that Cowher screamed as he led Team Terrible Towel into battle. Truth be told , it's merely the Latin phrase on the tiny banner beneath the tiny crest on this (and every) regulation-sized pack of Pall Malls.
"In hoc signes vinces ..."
Supposedly, it means, "in this sign, you shall conquer."
Yeah ... that kinda/sorta fits. Yet, on this, the day when the Steelers and Cowher parted ways, sometimes the only way to choke back the tears is to glance down at your pack of Pall Malls -- and then to ponder the Latin words on that tiny crest positioned above the tiny banner on this regulation-sized pack of smokes:
PER ASPERA AD ASTRA
According to the translationistas who handle such translation matters, "per aspera ad astra" means "through difficulties to the stars."
Apparently, that's also taken to mean that "through hardships, we were taken to new heights."
Even if he doesn't chain-smoke like most of us in America, Cowher definitely did just that.
What's impressive is that we can break down the meaning of Latin expressions without the assistance of those Latin ballplayers (who actually don't speak a word of Latin, but since they were born in places in what is known as "Latin America," we're supposed to shrug it off when every sportswriter under the sun feels the need to call those players "Latin").
Regardless, the Latin expression which seems most-applicable and most-embraceable as The Cowher Power Era ends is:
VENI, VIDI, VICI
"We came, we saw, we conquered ..."
Imagine that ... those are the words which appear on the crest on every pack of Marlboros.
Question: Why are tobacco companies spending so much time conquering Latin?
Without a Berlitz phrase book, the best answer to the question of "who'll replace Cowher?" as the Steelers' field general might be, "It's Greek to me."
No doubt, the Rooney Family will make the right choice, as long as that choice is not Frickin' Cam Frickin' Cameron (O-coordinator for Marty Shittyheimer, Cowher's mentor).
Hopefully, one of the two in-house front-runners -- Ken Whisenhunt or Russ Grimm -- will get the nod.
It'll be weird for all of us when there isn't that jutting jaw leading the Black N' Gold onto the field for the season opener in '07.
Then again, will our hearts be filled with THAT much more ambivalence and uncertainty than they were in Jan. '92 when we learned that the three finalists to replace Chuck Noll were three nobodies named "Wannstedt," "Gilbride" and "Cowher"?
What the frick?
We noticed that when he was fielding questions from the media, Cowher elaborated only slightly on his very first game -- that 29-24 win over the Houston Oilers at the Astrodome -- but that he twice alluded to the fake punt in that game.
For those of us who didn't make the trip to Houston, we were wishing we could've seen a highlight of punter Mark Royals' 44-yard completion to Warren Williams.
Was it a tight spiral?
For those of us who were serving as director of the Terrible Towel's West Coast Bureau at the time, those early days of Cowher Power had us somewhat (although not entirely) skeptical.
The Black N' Gold went 11-5 during Cowher's rookie campaign and, then, with home-field advantage throughout the playoffs, laid a big, 24-3, egg to Buffalo at Three Rivers.
Bill couldn't conquer the Bills.
After an 0-2 start to begin '93, Cowher got the boys to battle back for a a 9-7 record -- but, alas, a gut-wrenching, OT defeat in K.C. (to Bill's mentor, Shittyheimer ... which, by the way, was one week before the most-recent MartyBall playoff win) was the final disappointment.
The '94 season ... jeez, we don't even want to talk about how the 12-4 team had that schedule conflict: Make a Super Bowl video or cover Albert Pupunu?
Dom Capers found it necessary to blitz 15 guys to rattle Ralph Friedgen's QB, yeeesh ...
Ron Erhardt ... nice idea throwin' to Barry Foster on fourth down ...
Cowher, Year IV resounded with a battle cry of "Three More Yards" ... well, the AFC Championship game vs. the Colts will live forever -- but, O'Donnell's two Super Bowl passes to ... who exactly?
In the time between Cowher philosophizing to his 9-year-old Meagan, "Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose" and giving her a quick peck moments after SB XXX and the time when 19-year Meagan bear-hugged Dad following SB XL, all of us probably came to appreciate Cowher more.
Of course, the bridge which gapped 9-year-old Meagan and 19-year-old Meagan centered largely around that 6-10 season of '03 and most of us saying, "If he follows that up with a 7-9 or an 8-8, he's toast."
So, Cowher put the power back into Cowher Power and he went ballistic with a 15-1 record.
Maybe it was due to per aspera ad astra ... maybe not.
(Note: When ya watch highlights of Cowher getting the Gatorade shower at the end of SB XL, notice the force with which Marvel Smith tips over the bucket. Dude damn near broke Cowher's clavicle ... )
Immediately after the Cowher presser, ESPN's Trey Wingo conducted a mostly-bland interveiw with Kordell Stewart. What makes this intriguing is that, instead of Slash, wouldn't ESPN have been wiser to go with its own "Hodgie" -- former Steeler backfield warhorse Merril Hoge?
Hoge played for both Chuck Noll and Cowher and he could tie together the two and perhaps offer the viewers some insight as to the mood of Pittsburgh in Dec. '91 (when Noll announced his retirement) as to what the organization might do in the weeks ahead, circa "right now."
(Note: Exactly! As if any of us is going to tell ESPN how to butcher a no-brainer assignment. Initial reports, though, did indicate that the Worldwide Leader originally intended to send Dick Vitale to the Heinz Field parking lot and have him yell, "Cowher Power! He's awwww-summm, bayyyy-beeee! Unnn-beee-leee-vuhhh-bulll!")
The difference between Noll and Cowher might boil down to the mere mathematics of timing and age.
When Noll retired, he'd been to the playoffs only four times in his final 12 seasons (1980-'91).
Cowher went to the postseason in 10 of his 15 seasons and, despite missing the playoffs this year, the memories of a 15-1 record followed by SB XL the following season, well, those are very recent memories.
(Note: It is a little mind-boggling to consider that three times Noll lost in the AFC Championship Game and four times Cowher lost in the AFC Championship game -- all at home -- so, once you add it all up ... that's 13 (basically, one-third) of the 40 conference championship games for the Black N' Gold, which is a lot more than can be said for the Chiefs n' Colts n' Browns n' Broncos n' Chargers n' Bengals n' Jets n' Laughingstock Raiders, etc ... )
Strangely, a confluence of circumstances has tied Jan. '07 to Jan. '92.
The recent images of Cowher at his first press conference, well ... back then, he had more hair (which was parted in the middle) and he was wearing a suit n' tie.
Jan. '92 ... that was a simpler time when the girl you thought you were going to marry was not what you thought she was so you couldn't "crown her ass!" (as Denny Green says) -- which was OK, 'cuz Jan. '92 was when the girl you did marry gave you an autographed photo of Chuck Noll for you to hang in the West Coast Bureau of TerribleTowelTown.
Jan. '92 ... Bob Knight was in the news as having the best team in the nation (which just happened to be your favorite team) ... and, every time you sat down to watch the NHL, your favorite player (Stevie Y) was performing magic near the blue line.
So, how ironic is it that Cowher's "resignation" press conference (he's not retiring, dammit) occurs four days after Knight registers his record-setting 880th win and three days after Steve Yzerman's #19 is retired and raised to the rafters at Joe Louis Arena?
At least this news didn't come as a surprise. Cowher was thoughtful enough to let America know that his decision would come sometime during the week after the season finale, thereby allowing nothing that he said to diminish THE football news of the week -- that being the Boise Boyz's hook-and-ladder, the receiver-turned-halfback-option and the Statue of Liberty magnificence during the conquest of Oklahoma.
Despite that glory, it's time to come to grips with Cowher The Conqueror moving on. The theoristicians and hypotheticalistas have theorized and hypothesized that Bill will sit out the Autumn of '07 (and maybe '08) and then take his re-charged batteries back out onto the battlefield when he leads the Carolina Panthers into their '09 season opener.
That is, unless Cowher is guiding the Pitt Panthers into their '09 season opener (after Wannstache is fired).
If there is a faction of Steeler Nation out there who believes that Cowher is "bailing," such a viewpoint probably shouldn't be dismissed as "invalid."
A sense of resentment is understandable.
After all, if Cowher is walking away -- with a year left on his contract -- because he felt as though the Steelers needed new blood (and because he didn't perceive himself as the right man for the job), well ... OK, sort of.
After all, he does have a year remaining on what we imagine is a fairly-lucrative contract.
However, if he's resigning solely because he wants to watch his daughters play basketball and because his golf game needs work --at age 49 -- you can empathize with those who say, "Tough sh*t, Bill."
Blue-collar Steel Town might not be the place to make such "I'm-quitting-'cuz-I-feel-like-it" remarks. There must be thousands of citizens in and around the 'Burgh whose dads, uncles, brothers went to work each day for the honor of filling their lungs with coal soot ... but, at age 49, they couldn't walk away simply because they were bummed that they three-putted on the 14th green.
There are coal miners and steel workers who didn't live to see their 49th birthday.
If Cowher was leaving to for an obscene amount of green from another team, again ... OK. That stuff happens. More $$$ in the bank for the Mrs. and three girls never hurts.
Then again, if Cowher does become the head coach at Carolina in '09, Steeler Nation will need to find a happy medium between the conflict rattling inside their heads and the betrayal felt in their hearts.
Cowher has hinted that he has more gas left in his tank ... that he respects and admires the Rooney Family and the city of Pittsburgh ... and he confessed that he's not burned out and that he's not in poor health ... so, for argument's sake, is he really merely walking away from the Steelers?
Or is he turning his back on the team, the organization and the fans for reasons beyond what he's revealed?
If, in fact, this is a matter of "spending more time with the family," then why not do what Notre Dame's Charlie Weis does -- have your teeanger there with you on the sideline so that the kid is in the background every time the TV cameras catch a glimpse of you during 3rd-and-inches?
Have not the Steelers implemented a viable "Take Your Daughter To Work Day" policy?
In a semi-related story, there's another legendary coach in the Keystone State ... a coach who, when he was five weeks shy of his 49th birthday, was in his 10th season as head coach and saw his Nittany Lions lose at home, 15-14, to North Carolina State and their head coach, Lou Holtz, and their freshman linebacker Bill Cowher (who probably didn't see action in that game as most frosh didn't "back in the day").
That was the autumn of 1975.
Funny how it all comes together without the benefit of a Hefty Cinch Sak for, as he put it, "this Crafton boy." And, wouldn't ya know it, Cowher de Crafton's final college game for the NC State Wolfpack was a victory over his hometown Pitt Panthers in the '78 Tangerine Bowl.
Now, Cowher walks away from the Steel City two weeks after Joe Paterno turned 80 ... on the same day that Chuck Noll turned 75 and a day before Holtz turns 70.
As per Cowher's press conference itself ... sure, he looked/sounded composed, dignified, articulate and sincere.
That is, if he believes everything he said -- which there's a 93 percent chance that he did.
That sweater, with its zany, outdated print, was a little frightening, though.
Knit garments aside, the signature of his 15 years in Pittsburgh was that he never lacked for passion and emotion -- and his teams reflected that.
Some of us occasionally (it sez "occasionally") questioned Cowher's ability to manage the game as it was unfolding. He had some personnel issues worth nitpicking, such as a carousel at QB, highlighted by the decision to start Jim Miller at Jacksonville in the '96 opener and the ill-fated Kent Graham Experiment in the '00 opener vs. Baltimore.
Other than than that, however, his teams always played balls-out for him, no matter how badly free agency left his roster in a state of flux.
In other words, he was (and always will be) the anti-thesis of Nick Saban, whose Latin motto is:
ODERINT DUM METUANT
"Let them hate, so long as they fear ... "
Believe it or not, those are the words that appear on the crest of every pack of Saban Country Cigarettes (available as Saban Country 100's, Saban County Lights and Saban Country Menthol and, coming soon ... Saban Country International Blend Unfiltereds).
That is ... if Nick Saban ever got off his dead ass long enough to oversee the manufacturing of a cigaret that the kids could believe in ...
Anyway, back in the zone which is Cowher Power, the consensus is that his players laid it out for him likely because most of 'em realized that he'd been through the NFL wars as a player. And, it's always been the belief of this tribunal that Cowher loading his staff with ex-NFL'ers (Whisenhunt, LeBeau, Grimm, Hoak, Butler, Perry, Horton) provided an advantage over NFL staffs composed of dopes who played a little JC ball maybe 14 or 15 years ago, although this is more speculation than scientific methodology.
We'll all find out soon how much of this staff remains intact with the new Steeler field boss. A lot of us still remember the illuminaries on Coach Noll's final staff ... ex-Steeler heroes such as Mean Joe and Jon Kolb (both starters in four Super Bowls) plus John Fox, Todd Blackledge's daddy, Joe Walton and, of course, Dick Hoak.
Perhaps lost amid all of the Cowher Power frenzy was the tiny detail that three days before Cowher resigned, Dick Hoak retired after 45 years with the Steelers ... 10 years as running back (1961-70) and 35 years as the running backs coach (1972-2006).
That's insane ... 45 years decked out in Black N' Gold.
We'll see if "the new guy" can assemble a staff of assistants as well as Noll and Cowher did. While Hoak was retained to maintain the ground game (Barry Foster went bananas in '92), Cowher's "defense first" philosphy seemed to be in good hands with the creation of his first group of assistants -- D-coordinator Dom Capers, linebackers coach Marvin Lewis, and DB coach Dick LeBeau.
It was two years later when John Mitchell was hired as the D-line coach ... a position he hasn't let go of, 13 seasons later.
So, the search is on (please don't be Cam Cameron. please don't be Cam Cameron, please don't be Cam Cameron ... ).
Next stop for Coach Jutting Jaw: "Canton."
That is, unless he's coaching in Carolina.
Whether he's there or wherever, it's hoped that Dermontti Dawson (a stalwart for 9 of Cowher's 15 seasons) also ends up in Canton.
In the fifteen seasons of Cowher Power, he did it with TWO centers -- Dawson ('92-'00) and Jeff Hartings ('01-current ... made his first pro start at center in the '01 opener).
However, now that Cowher has checked out and the Steelers are sittin' at home not defending their SB XL title, America can rev its engine for a postseason filled with Tom Coughlin and some dork they're calling "The Mangini-ous."
Sounds like a good time to step outside for a smoke ...
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