OK, I wasn't around on the original "black Friday". Stock brokers in the NYC jumping out windows, scribbed suicide notes on the back of worthless bonds, abject dispair. But New York has put on a similar display this weekend involving the New York Giants. Fans jumping ship, talk radio guys saying the end is at hand, players criticizing Coach Tom Coughlin.
Now I grant you that the 24-21 fall the New York Football Giants, as they were once called, took against the Tennessee Titans was fast enough to cause nosebleeds and compressed vertebrae. Losing a three touchdown lead in the fourth quarter may have side affects that include listlessness, loss of interest in normal activities (like playing football), and depression. But, here is the worst part. All these symptoms were present before the Giants touched down in 10-O-C.
To a southerner, at a distance, New Yorkers can seem an exciteable lot. Consider this article that appeared in Saturday's New York Times "An Erratic Manning Puts Giants on Blue Alert":
Is the third year pro a has been already? Is this as good as it gets for Manning? Is a change at QB needed (oh yes, please bring on Jared Lorenzen, that will fix everything)? How big an impact crater will there be after the crash? New York wants to know.
Manning went into the game with 16 touchdown passes and 13 interceptions. His completion percentage is up from 48% his rookie year to 58% this season, despite significant injuries to his receivers and to standout tackle Luke Petitgout. Just to repeat this for emphasis, Manning is just over half way through his third season. Tony Romo of the Cowboys has clipboards older than that.
Then there is Tiki Barber. When your name sounds like a rum drink the odds are you are neither philosopher or strategist. But there was Barber sounding off to the New York media about play calling after a 12 run/42 pass misfire against Jacksonville. Barber and tight end Jeremy Shockey have both taken time from their busy schedules this season to advise Coughlin through the media on the proper way to run an offense. All that was missing was Fred McMurray whisphering into Barber's ear that it wasn't really mutiny at all and that Captain Queeg Coughlin was going to sink the Giants ship.
Underpining it all is a fatalistic sense in Giants land that a lengthening shadow is forming in Texas and will soon darken the skys in Gotham. Darth Parcells has donned his helmet and the empire will soon be enslaved by the star boys. Tony Romo is Staubach with a quicker relase. The end is at hand. Doom, doom, doom!
In the middle of this madness you step back, unless you are the New
York media or apparently the Giants players themselves, and look at the
standings. If the Giants beat Dallas on Sunday (and they have once
already this season) they will be in a 7-5 tie with the Cowboys with
the tiebreaker advantage and 4 games to go. Three straight losses are not a positive sign, but the season is not over by a long shot. That is, unless the panic is so complete it causes a complete collapse.
This is where we find out alot about Coughlin, the coach, and Manning the quarterback. Coughlin has brooked minor mutiny throughout the season without resorting to the iron fist he was well known for earlier in his career. Now is not the time for kinder, gentler Coughlin. As for Manning, he will become a leader only by becoming a leader. It is time for him to make the Giants his team and to make sure Barber and Shockey are aware of his presence. No more Mr. Nice Manning.
As for the rest of us, the media included, it's time to sit back and watch. Don't predict the fall of Rome until at least the first fires by the Coliseum. Ceasar is not dead yet, but young Barber and Shockey have a lean and hungry look. This challenge had best be met soon, or the empire will have fallen before Manning the boy king can be crowned.
I've never played organized football. I don't know from first hand experience what motivates players. But I do have a finely tuned nonsense detector, and it went off when Michael Irvin said Giants running back Tiki Barber's plans to retire would make him a less effective leader.
Irvin, and most in the sports media, subscribe to the myth that football players are sheep. They walk upright, appear to speak and reason at a level similar to the rest of us, and make amazing split second decisions. But, sheep they must be if they require so many "leaders" from the coaching staff to veteran players just to get through a single game.
Irvin, whose reasoning ability didn't prevent him from showing up in court wearing a mink coat when on trial for cocaine possession, sees it like this. "If I am in the line of battle and Tiki comes to me and says, 'Come on,
give me what you have!' I'm going to look at him and say, 'Aww, shut
up. What are you talking about? You are quitting on us.' This stuff
will come out on the sideline."
Barber is not quitting on his team in mid-season. He isn't even taking plays off, as some star players have done. Set that aside. What makes Irvin think what players say to each other during games really makes a difference?
Imagine you are the center for the Giants. You're up against a nose tackle who has 40 pounds on you. He isn't just big, he's quick, he's mean, and he may be nuts. Between plays he keeps carrying on these conversations that sound like Hanibal Letchter on steroids. All night he's driven your neck back into your spinal column and moved around you like a Panzer division in 1939 going around French infantry. In the middle of the pain and panic, Tiki looks at you and says 'Come on, give me what you have!"
My immediate reaction would be, "Bleep you, make some plays and get us off the field before this maniac kills me." More likely, I'd just tune it out. It's part of the background noise of the game. Something your focus doesn't allow you to waste time on. Like crowd noise, screaming coaches, or how the cheerleaders look. Start paying attention to any of that and you're going to be tasting the turf on a regular basis.
Players yell stuff all the time. Listen to any NFL films production and you'll hear every cliche in the book. Usually the players yelling the most are not the sharpest tools in the shed. I'm sure some of it sinks in, some of it sets a mood, but if it's non-stop for 3 hours (and it appears to be) what effect does any of it have?
Tiki Barber is a leader because of what he does on the field. He is a leader because he can take an offense that is in a hole and get it out. Barber can change attitudes and effort by results and by overcoming his opponents. None of which has anything to do with Michael Irvin's understanding of leadership, and none of which is affected by his team knowing he plans to retire at the end of the season.
Football is a game of emotion and attitudes. Coaches put alot of time and effort into communicating with players. But I'm guessing the communication that deals with basic needs, like the need to remain employed, or the need to feel good about how you're playing, trumps the inspirational speeches hands down. That's the communication that goes on in practice, not on the field.
Even Michael Irvin was a leader. Not when he was running his mouth like an outboard motor, but when he was making catches in traffic and changing momentum. Take away that ability to make catches, take away the game changing plays, and nobody would have listened. Just like nobody should be listening to him now.
