Is anyone else having problems posting comments? For the last few weeks I have not been able to. Each time I try I get a message saying I have to reconfirm my e-mail.
Any suggestions will be appreciated or add you own problems if you are having them.
It’s surprising what can appear out of the doom and gloom on a dark and rainy morning. Making your way slowly through the mire that is pelting your windshield, straining to see behind the barely functional wipers that should have been replaced a month ago, one can hardly expect a sudden burst of brilliance to cut through the despair.
But it happened.
No sooner did I power up the work station than the words that most Detroit fans prayed to one day read came leaping from the electronic pages: Matt Millen fired by the Lions.
Put up the streamers and uncork the celebratory sacrificial grapes. The most incompetent era of professional sports management has come to an end. Hallelujah, hallelujah. No more Millen Man Marches in protest, no more dodging Ford Field security for hoisting “Fire Millen” signs, no more images hung in effigy and no more reason for fans in Minnesota and Chicago to mock their incompetent interdivision rivals with signs of support for the Lions’ former president and CEO.
After seven seasons and a league worst 31-84 record, and facing a hostile fan base ready to fire bomb the stadium bearing the family name, the owner of the franchise that has seen only one playoff victory since the country sported buzz cuts and young gals donned their prettiest poodle skirt for a night at the hop has finally sent off the worst executive in the history of professional sports. But don’t worry about Matt, he’s got a nice Honolulu Blue-and-silver parachute that will continue to pay him at least a portion of his $5 million-per-year-contract that runs through 2010, meaning the maintenance on his 1775 vintage Pennsylvania home will continue without fail.
The Millen era was not just bad, it was historic in its failure and misdirection: 58 coaches, a Cleveland Spideresque .270 winning percentage, an 8-60 road record, last in scoring defense (25.3) and third worst in scoring offense (18.3), and draft strategies that can only be called bizarre. Three consecutive seasons picking wide receivers in the first round and a fourth two years later often results in such labels.
But for all the rug-cutting now under way throughout the Mitten State, a big question looms on the horizon for one of the league’s oldest franchises — who’s the next to be fired or hired? Millen has to take much of the heat for the team’s recent failures, but the problems go much deeper than the four-time Super Bowl-winning linebacker. The team needs a complete reorganization from top to bottom.
While firing an owner is not possible, the next best move for the franchise would be the retirement of its 83-year-old owner, leaving his son, Bill Jr. — who got the ax to fall with his public comments about Millen — as the leader of the once middling franchise. It’s no real open secret that Junior was exasperated with the team’s showing and that he’s champing at the bit to take over control. Plus, he couldn’t do any worse.
From there the team’s next priority is to hire a Bill Parcells-type executive with no allegiances to current employees and little patience for failure. Whoever this person is will have to gut the scouting department where employees have been able to consistently misread talent for two decades and, of course, find a head coach who is going to do more than stock the roster with over-the-hill and under-performing players from his previous place of employment.
Currently, the biggest name circulating around the rumor mill has the team making a hard push to sign former Steelers’ head coach Bill Cowher to whatever job he desires. Cowher has proved his status as an elite coach who won even as his roster underwent constant turnover, and would make a good executive in charge of evaluating and stockpiling talent. But for any higher position, one that is responsible for the day-to-day operations of a multibillion-dollar business, the Lions must look for more than an impressive coaching resume. A phone call to Patriots’ vice president of player personnel Scott Pioli would be a good start if they decide not to offer the job to former Titans’ GM, Floyd Reese who has already expressed interest in the job.
The terror for the opposition began with the importation of LT.
Whether if, at this point, the mud-sucking, bilge water-drinking challengers were aware of the fact that the end of their season was effectively under way was indeterminable.
But what cannot go unquestioned was deft maneuvering that made the Charger running back available at No. 2 to go along with the slight-of-hand aquisitions composed of Ryan Grant and Jessica Simpson’s favorite chew toy — lucky #### — were the moves of a master.
The pretenders to the crown that is soon to be majestically featured on the stunning dome of the fedora-wearing, eye-spinning future league champion were quickly reduced to quivering masses of eventual failure.
Forced to wallowed beneath the vile of their own early round draft picks, they made a final, feeble attempt to rebound in thelate rounds by grabbing whatever practice squad player remaining from their favorite team. Will they play? Are they injured? Retired? Dead? No matter. They wear the blue star and that’s good enough for a tenth rounder!
Labeling themselves as prolific red ticket-supporting pornographers, each, by way of their own ineptitude and the brilliance of the genius draft manager who produced a 20-game regular season MLB fantasy victory, is doomed to a season of fear and loathing — or any other such long strange trips of their choosing through the bizarre mind of Hunter S. Thompson.
And the pain was just beginning.
Wes Welker, the Bears defense, the beneficiary of Tom Brady’s offense and a rookie running back with absolutely no competition follow in the later rounds as the Mighty Titans, Kona Coffee Pickers and a Warrior Fanatic hopelessly cling to the recorded insight of the would-be draft experts at EA Sports in an effort to stay out of last place or, at least, to delay the inevitable.
As the season progresses, the losses will mount. Sweat comes to the brow of the Netherwing Knights as Adrian Peterson goes down with a knee injury leaving the team with only Reggie Bush’s 3.7 yards per carry and Ricky Williams’ five-leafed, sticky, stinky, red-haired herbal cure-all.
The People’s Team’s pick of unemployed baggage handler Tatum Bell is reason enough for unkind words of discouragement as are the four quarterbacks taking up space on the roster.
Sheeelli ensured a steady diet of losses and negative commentary based on her six running backs, but at least she has some company.
The Fanatic also has decided to hoard ball carriers much like Kirstie Alley with a ham sandwich.
Ahhh, the life of fantasy football. Sixteen weeks of interoffice trash talking where neither sex nor experience nor the ability to terminate employment is enough to save the also-rans from the wicked taunts of those on top. Victory affords the right to humiliate and defeat is an invitation for abuse.
The Dungeon and Dragons for the non-geeky, beer-drinking, jersey-wearing, solar-challenged sect, fantasy sports allows would-be general managers to match their wits against the witless in a epic struggle of dominance that pits the strong against the weak and mentally stable versus those who feel that only through constant roster movement and $600 worth of scouting reports can victory be attained.
What had began in 1980 with a group of friends at the the La Francoise Rotisserie restaurant in New York has blossomed into a billion dollar business that has raised the ire of more wives than beer belching contests, and has wasted untold employment hours.
Small prices to pay for the right to humiliate your best friends.
So good luck. Stay healthy and as Jack Jenkins said, “Don’t take this ####-whuppin seriously.”
Check that.
Who gives a damn if you don’t like being looked upon through the rear view mirror. We take our cues not from fictional fighters, but real coaches who feel victory is a birthright of the elite.
If you don’t like losing, get better!
You want respect? Don’t draft Vince Young as your starting QB!
smurray@midweek.com
Gene Upshaw was a force of nature. In seemingly everything he did, he came forward with brutal power, whether the opponent was a defensive lineman or a union in such bad shape that the only recourse was to blow it up.
Now dead at the age of 63 from pancreatic cancer, he leaves behind a wake of admirers and detractors. But no one who can deny that his talent and force of will changed the game he played and the very business that is the National Football League.
A first-round draft pick by the Oakland Raiders in 1967 out of tiny Texas A&I, he went on to forge a playing career that saw him play in 207 straight games, make seven Pro Bowls, 11 All Pro teams and win two Super Bowls.
After 15 years, and in his first year of eligibility, he became the first player to enter the Hall of Fame playing exclusively the guard position.
Even with all the talent and strange cast of characters that included eight Hall of Famers during their 1970s heyday, Upshaw, with his heavily padded arms, neck brace, thick beard and intense eyes peering from under his scarred helmet and from behind his large face mask, stood alone as the visual image of the big, tough Oakland Raiders.
Along with center Jim Otto and tackle Art Shell, Upshaw completed one of the most formidable blocking combinations in NFL history, paving the way for Oakland’s powerful running game and giving quarterback Ken Stabler time to find Dave Casper, Fred Biletnikoff and Cliff Branch, who provided the air game for Al Davis’ beloved pound and bomb offensive philosophy.
But had Upshaw not been so dominant on the football field, he post-playing career would have ensured him enshrinement into the Hall.
Upshaw took over a fractured players union that had little bargaining power and was subservient to ownership, and helped to create a powerful labor organization that came to enjoy a true partnership with the NFL and which helped lift the league to the peak of American sports.
This coziness would later be used by his critics who felt he had turned his back on the players, especially those no longer in uniform, and who believed he became too close to then commissioner Paul Tagliabu.
Upshaw’s early career in the union resembled his time as a player. He rode through the opposition, whether it was owners, players or the union itself. Where former union head Ed Garvey asked the league for a bigger share of revenue, Upshaw demanded it.
His “We are the game” speech to players helped galvanize the members into a unified forced even when it became necessary to have the union decertified — a move that at the time seemed a risky power play, but one that actually saved the union and set the groundwork for its current success.
To those who agreed with his approach, Upshaw was a masterful combination of smarts and intestinal fortitude.
He was forceful in demanding a bigger share of the prize for the players, but was smart enough to realize that owners also needed protection on their investment. He worked with the league to generate new revenue streams, and his agreement to institute the franchise player designation was a wise concession for free agency.
To his detractors, he was a corporate toady more concerned with his multimillion-dollar salary than the guys on the field. Baltimore Ravens kicker Matt Stover led an effort to oust Upshaw as the executive director by March 2009.
The effort didn’t go far, but criticism continued and even got more bitter as former players began hounding the league and the union for help with their mounting medical bills.
Led by fellow Hall of Famer Mike Ditka, the griping got so bitter and personal that Upshaw issued one of his many controversial statements when he gruffed that he doesn’t work for retired players. He gained even more unwanted attention when he responded to fellow Hall of Fame guard Joe DeLamielleure, a loud critic of the NFL’s pension program, saying, “I’d like to break his neck.”
Whether Upshaw was a sinner or saint as union chief depends on whom you talk to. But one thing that cannot be discounted was the impact he had on minority hirings.
Upshaw was a massive, visible symbol employment diversity within the upper reaches of sports management. Even with African Americans making up 69 percent of NFL rosters, according to the Racial and Gender Report Card, from the Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sports at the University of Central Florida, upper management positions in the league, and in all professional sports, remains a difficult plateau for minority candidates. Upshaw’s two-decade reign, while not as visible as, say, Indianapolis head coach Tony Dungy, was a direct assault on the unfair hiring practice that still retards the careers of minority candidates.
That Robert Smith and Troy Vincent, both African Americans, are considered as possible successors shows that Upshaw was able to help break down such barriers.
Alphonso Braggs, the president of the Honolulu chapter of the NAACP, said the former Raider should be recognized and applauded:
“I think the lesson we take away from it is that, yes, African Americans not only can play and succeed in this sport, but that they can manage this sport, and they can keep it where it needs to be and deal with the challenging issues this sport needs to deal with.
“I look at Gene Upshaw, I look at others who have ascended to front office positions and leadership roles as head coaches, and I think those guys have really paved the way for other African Americans to move up.”
Whoever does take over the job will have a difficult task ahead.
In May, the owners voted unanimously to exercise their option to reopen negotiations on the collective bargaining agreement after the 2008 season with a lockout of player possible in 2011.
There is no question that the replacement will come out of the Upshaw camp, but there is no guarantees that person will be as effective.
smurray@midweek.com
The line has been draw in the snow. The marriage is broken. The dishes have been divided, the CDs painfully argued over, the furniture sold off, the cars assigned and custody granted. What had been for years one of the most inspirational hookups in sport has disintegrated into a bickering feud between the jilted lover and the one who won’t return phone calls. The only thing missing is Brett Favre sitting alone in his room, eating a pint of Cherry Garcia while listening to Avril Levine make a hard press for Ted Thompson’s affections. It was a breakup that never should have happened.
Favre’s time in Green Bay had come to an end. After waffling about retirement for three years and after putting together two of the worst seasons of his career (2005 and 2006) in which he handed out nine more interceptions than touchdowns, the time had come for the franchise’s greatest player to move on to a life of hawking comfortable outerwear, heartburn treatment tablets and Pagrus auratus riding mowers. Unfortunately, ego and stupidity on both sides have made it impossible for an amicable split.
The Packers were correct in giving Favre an ultimatum. With Aaron Rogers just eating cap space on the bench, it was time for the team to find out if its 2005 draft pick is capable of taking over the team or if he’s going to join the long line of post-super star busts at the quarterback position. Favre, for all he has done for the team and the game, deserves to go out on his own terms, and any concerns about his legacy are really no one’s business but his own. So with both sides being right, how did everything go so wrong?
If Favre, as he recalled during his interview with Packers’ share holder, Greta Van Sustren, did in fact speak to the team about a possible return on June 20, he sure didn’t give the team much time to determine what it would do with a roster that would have been bloated with four quarterbacks upon his return. During the 20-minute interview in which he played the standard semi-victim whose magnanimous gestures to his former club bordered on the angelic, Favre still found time to slam Thompson and tossed the entire franchise under the proverbial sausage truck thereby burning any bridge that may have remained.
While “The Pack is Back” bumper stickers had been a Wisconsin staple for 20 years, it wasn’t until the former Falcon party boy arrived that the annual prediction begin to have any merit. More than just winning a title, Favre resurrected a team and turned a backwater franchise into a major NFL player. The Packers should have realized that anything but the most lavish send off and post retirement hand holding would make the team appear ungrateful and cheap. Filing a complaint with the league charging the Vikings with tampering after Favre had a get together with old buddy Darrell Bevell, who also happens to be Minnesota’s offensive coordinator, did nothing to smooth the rough edges.
Had both sides decided to bury the animosity and the determination to prove whose is bigger, the next step in Favre’s professional career may have already been decided.
Though the QB and his agent say the first play begins with Green Bay — a statement designed to further implicate the Packers as the bad guys — the true first move involves Favre applying for reinstatement. Until he is no longer “retired” there is little anyone can do. Until then he is the Packers’ property and he can’t “legally” discuss options with anyone else.
There is no way the Packers can just release Favre and risk him signing with another NFC Central team. For all the mileage on his tires, Favre still has value and the NFL is not in the business of giving away valuable merchandise. Which means the only alternative is a trade — preferably out of the NFC, but definitely one that would keep him out of the Central. Easy enough except that the best fits for Favre are teams within the conference.
If the Mississippi-native really wants to play, he needs to forget any shot of playing deep into the playoffs and that’s a major problem. Favre wants to win and any team with a real shot is set with either an established veteran with more upside than Favre or a youngster in whom they have entrusted the keys. Favre will stay retired rather than go to Buffalo or to the Jets which means the only real way for both sides to save face and to squeeze even the smallest benefit from the deal is to give the Panthers a call.
Carolina is a perennial top NFC pick with a quarterback who is trying to return after missing 13 games last season following Tommy John surgery. Unlike Chicago or Minnesota, whom the Packers will face twice, Carolina appears only once on the schedule and not until week 12 and in Green Bay. That should give Rogers enough time to adjust to his new role and provide both Favre and the Packers with valuable PR as Lambeau welcomes back its beloved son. The only problem is how to sell this idea to Carolina.
Just to show that you don’t need bad hair to rate the NFL draft, here is yet another worthlessly wild shot at explaining the most over-hyped and unimportant two days on the sporting calendar.
Big Winners
Taking the only lineman rated higher than the rookie Pro Bowler from a year ago is certainly a good start. Among Miami’s many, many needs was a left tackle to solidify a unit that not long ago was down right awful. With tackle Jake Long, the Dolphins have an offensive line fixture for the next 10 years. Even if he proves unable to handle the left side, a move to right tackle would still mean years of solid line play to go with last year’s second round pick, center Samson Satele. The Dolphins also added line depth with guard Shawn Murphy in the third round. Grabbing Chad Henne, a four-year starter at Michigan, in the second round was another stout move as neither Josh McCown or 27-year-old sophomore QB John Beck could solidify their hold on the position last year. Miami may also have found a replacement for Jason Taylor in defensive end Phillip Merling.
When perhaps the most dominant athlete in the draft falls in your lap at No. 5, a good draft is nearly assured. Kansas City struck gold with a man so damn nasty that not even a sore hamstring, a sore back and a sprained right knee prevented him from becoming a first-team All-America and winner of the Bronco Nagurski Award, Vince Lombardi/Rotary Award, Outland Trophy and SEC Defensive Player of the Year. The hits kept coming with perhaps the third best lineman (guard/tackle Brandon Allen) in the draft to go along with plenty of help for the defensive backfield with Brandon Flowers, Dajuan Morgan and Brandon Carr. Tailback Jamaal Charles is too small to be an every-down back but his 4.37 speed is a nice addition.
With the Carolina Panthers seemingly always on everyone’s short list for an NFC title, last year’s 7-9 mark was an unquestioned disappointment. The good news for 2008 is that they were able to fill needs while getting good players in great spots. Oregon’s Jonathan Stewart has perfect NFL size at 5’ 10” and 235 to go along with a nice 4.48 40. He’s also a tougher runner than No. 4 overall pick Darren McFadden. Moving up to take massive Jeff Otah at 19 was a good move to go along with free agent O-line pick ups Milford Brown, Toniu Fonoti and Keydrick Vincent. Grabbing Penn State linebacker Dan Connor in the third round was simple larceny.
Reached
Lions’ President Matt Millen did something unusual — he actually drafted to fill needs. Unfortunately, he may have over-valued each pick. Gosder Cherilus (No. 17 overall) was a four-year starter at Boston College whose play declined after making the switch to the left side, causing his draft projection to sink to a late round one, early round two pick. Jordon Dizon may have been the best ball hawk in college since Chris Spielman, but there was no rush to grab him before the third round. The NFL doesn’t clamor for slowish, smallish linebackers no matter how impressive their stats in college. Had the Lions grabbed Rashard Mendenhall at 18, moved to get Cherilus in the second and Dizon in the third, this would have been one nice draft.
Strange
While neither Rex Grossman, Kyle Orton nor Brian Griese are as bad as Bears fans would have you believe, allowing one of the deepest quarterback classes in recent years to pass without picking a signal caller is simply dumbfounding. After Matt Ryan was picked too high at No. 3, 54 picks passed before Brian Brohm — the No. 1 ranked quarterback in the preseason — was called up to the podium as the second QB taken. The Bears could have grabbed Brohm at 44 and most likely have gotten running back Matt Forte with little effort later in the draft.
Nice Grabs
As mentioned before, Carolina getting the No. 2 ranked inside linebacker in the third round was simply a steal.
One look at Dennis Dixon and you can’t help think of a new century version of Kordell Stewart, but with more speed and perhaps a better arm. Dixon will be a project for the Steelers, but he’s an amazing athlete and could get a look at quarterback, wide receiver or maybe even some at H-back if Mike Tomlin gets frisky.
This may be a bit of a homer pick, but grabbing an accurate quarterback a year removed from a predicted first or second round slot in the sixth is a pretty nice haul. Colt Brennan will have time in Washington to sit and learn while working with one of the league’s most respected developers of quarterbacks, head coach Jim Zorn.
Mike Hart’s slow 40 time, history of injuries and size killed his chances of being anything but a mid-round pick. But the ultra-professional Colts have to love a proven leader who refuses to fumble and who has very nice hands. What more can you hope for at No. 202 in the draft?
The seventh round is a throw-away where finding a practice squad player would not constitute a wasted selection. Finding a 6-foot, 3-inch, 200 pound wide receiver who had nine catches for 153 yards vs Florida in the Capital One Bowl could turn out to be felony theft. Even if Adrian Arrington ends up being the Saints’ No. 4 wide out, that’s still a lot of production from someone who was 15 picks from being Mr. Irrelevant.
The single word opening doesn’t make for much of a lead, but does provide a fitting one-word description of the Badger State’s favorite adopted son.
Amazing was the toughness and the arm that could still dominate a game after 17 years of punishment.
Amazing was the creativity and the confidence.
Amazing were the throws he made and the ones he should have never considered.
Most amazing was the joy with which he played the game. Every athlete in every arena, rink, stadium or field swears to the joy of competition, but few show it as readily or convincingly as Brett Favre.
Tiger Woods seems to play 18 angry holes while Payton Manning goes about his job with the apparent excitement of an accountant at tax time. Not Favre. Though slower of foot and topped with a head gone gray, he still refused to act his age on the field or cease pulling pranks on his teammates. Sneaking up on teammates and pinching them under the arm seems to have been a particular favorite. Just as the shovel passes, last-second comebacks and impossible throws are burned into the collective memory of NFL fans, so is his fist pumping sprints across field, the hugs, the high fives and the snowballs tossed in jest at teammates and officials. Not to mention the live, on-air goosing of Terry Bradshaw following the 1996 NFC title game and the hoisting of Greg Jennings following the pass that broke Dan Marino’s touchdown record. Without knowing the context of the play, one could safely assume it was Jennings who had set a record.
While NFL Films and YouTube will continue to replay his on-field greatness and Halloween pranks on former coach Mike Holmgren, to portray Favre as the perfectly padded, eye-blacked patron saint of boyhood joy would be simply wrong. He’s had his share of demons. His use of painkillers led to a seizure in a Green Bay hospital following ankle surgery in 1996, and he basically drank himself out of his first job in Atlanta. Brett missed a Falcon team photo because he was hung over. Jerry Glanville and June Jones, incorrectly, have been taking hits for trading Favre ever since. In hindsight, it was a horrendous move, but at the time they were getting rid of an overweight drunk whose Hall of Fame career may never have gotten started if not for Tim Krumriel taking out Dan Majkowski in the third game of the 1992 season.
Where exactly Favre fits into the hierarchy of NFL quarterbacks is to be debated. His positives are amazing considering some of the targets he’s has to throw to in Green Bay. He leaves the game as the all-time leader in passing yards (61,655), touchdowns (442), wins (160), consecutive games started (275), passes (8,758) and completions (5,377). He has also thrown for more interceptions (288) than anyone in history, sliding the Favre name ahead of such greats as George Blanda (277), John Hadl (268) and Vinney Testaverde (267). Herein lies the rub against Favre taking over the top slot as most of his numbers would suggest is appropriate. It’s hard to be the best when the position’s greatest fault becomes too often a reality.
The huge number of interceptions were the downside of his famed “gunslinger” reputation. Not all those out-the-wazoo plays turn out exactly as planned, and it was his refusal to give up such practices that led him to throwing 62 passes to the opposition in his final three years in the league. Also, in the highly critical modern definition of success, his one Super Bowl title also hampers his assault on surpassing Joe Montana, Johnny Unitas, John Elway or a still active Tom Brady.
What comes next for Favre is anyone’s guess, likely even to himself. His huge popularity and every-man reputation means he could easily follow in the footsteps of Arnold Palmer and become a gracefully aging corporate ad man for hire. He speaks better than many who have made the transition to the broadcast booth, so that is a viable option even though he has said he has no real interest in such a job.
Then again he could just head to his property near Hattiesburg, Miss., to be rarely heard from again — a future that would surprise no one.
Whatever he does he will always be the joyous man-child who brought high school enthusiasm to the NFL and who forever etched his name into the anals of epic history with his 399-yard, four-touchdown performance the day after his coach, best friend and father passed away in 2003.
Not only should Jessica be in the stadium, she should be on the field, performing at halftime (notice I didn't say singing), serving beer on the concourse, calling the play by play, hosting the postgame show and directing traffic after the game!!
The truth is not that the Cowboys put a hole in the roof to allow God to watch his favorite team, but to allow him to view his greatest blonde creation (again notice I refer not to her singing or whatever the hell it is that she does).
Unhappy with over paid football players? Blame the Allegheny Athletic Association.
Near the turn of the century, football became a major attraction for local athletic clubs in the North East. Allegheny's rival was the Pittsburgh Athletic Club and prior to their 1892 game, AAA decided not to leave the game to chance.
The association paid former Yale All-American William “Pudge” Heffelfinger $500 to play in the game, making him the first professional football player. The plan worked. Heffelfinger picked up a PAC fumble and returned it 35 yards for a touchdown. Allegheny won 4-0. Needless to say scoring rules have changed a bit in 115 years.
Call it the week of four angry men — eight fewer than needed to really get the dander up of jurors No. 3 and 10, but enough to recognize the need of Henry Fonda’s enlightened intelligence.
Oklahoma State’s head coach Mike Gundy got things going with a three-minute-20-second post game tantrum over comments made by Daily Oklahoman columnist Jenni Carlson about Cowboy quarterback Bobby Reid. Carlson suggested that coaches had lost confidence in the player, and that he may not have the guts to tough out minor injuries or the confidence to perform under pressure. She quotes Reid from an article by another Oklahoman reporter, Andrea Cohen, in which he talked about his pregame nerves.
“I get sweaty palms. I get the butterflies in my stomach. I sweat lot,” he said then. “I’ve been playing this game for 15 years. And I can honestly say every game I’ve played in, I’ve been nervous. It’s not so much me being scared; I just get to a point where I start worrying about a lot of things I can’t control.”
At the press conference, Gundy glared at someone, obviously Carlson, and screamed how it was unfair to attack a “kid,” and likened his feelings to that of a mother having to help console a child who was teased for dropping a pass in a pickup game or because he was fat. He went on to say that three-fourths of the information was untrue and called it fiction. Unfortunately, when queried by Carlson about what facts she had gotten wrong, Gundy declined to offer an example saying, “I don’t have to.” Good retort.
In a week of overheated macho bullcrap, this was the worst. A head coach at a large university talks about the impropriety of criticizing an adult old enough to vote, drink and walk a post in Iraq, all the while screaming at a woman in a manner that could be construed as a physical threat. At one point Gundy shouts, “… come after me! I’m a man! I’m 40! Write something about me or our coaches, don’t write about a kid that does everything right.”
Carlson may have gone overboard suggesting Reid was soft because his mother was feeding him chicken before the team’s charter flight prior to the game, or that he showed disconnect from his team by laughing on the sidelines as they were losing to Troy, but whatever errors she made failed in comparison to Gundy’s actions. It’s fine to stick up for your players, but it is simple cowardice to verbally attack a woman without even having the guts to discuss any perceived errors in her reporting. Gundy said he questions what this country has become when stories like this can be written. If Gundy really wants to discuss the direction of the nation, he should look no further than the 81 percent of 11,686 respondents to a television poll that said Gundy acted appropriately or the 98 percent of the 1,400 e-mails the school got in support of the coach.
It’s amazing to think that the namesake of the company that brought us such peaceful playtime activities as Candy Land, Chutes and Ladders, Hi #### Cherry-O and the My Little Pony Memory Game could be such a hyper-aggressive, short-fused powder keg. But Milton Bradley has been just that during his time in the Major Leagues. It could be that Bradley is just not wired correctly or that he has more in common with Trouble, Battleship, Aggravation and the designed-to-be-unstable Jenga. Whatever the reason, something was bound to go wrong when Bradley met Mike Winters.
Baseball let this happen. By allowing its officials to get into verbal altercations with players and managers, the league has created a caste of elitist officials who believe they can never miss a call and are in the right to shout down any descending opinion. Or in this case, to stir up trouble between a player and the home plate umpire by telling the umpire that the player had thrown a bat at him following a called third strike.
In every other sport, officials are supposed to be the invisible, non-emotional interpreters of the rules. In baseball they are part of the show. That’s why this incident happened. For far too long Winters and others umpires have been an unregulated force of confrontation. While Winter’s guilt is obvious, we would be remiss to think that Bradley didn’t have a hand in the encounter.
After the game Bradley admitted that his past behavior has been a problem, but that he had no intent of harming Winters and that he just wanted the first base umpire to hear what he had to say. No matter how contrite Bradley may have sounded after the game, he still had to be restrained by first base coach Bobby Meacham and manager Bud Black. That’s one physical discussion.
Atlanta corner back DeAngelo Hall rounds out the fourfecta with his sideline tirade at head coach Bobby Petrino and an assistant.
Being that the coaches were to blame for his three penalties that included two personal fouls during a single possession, Hall decided to straighten things out. So did Petrino, slapping him with a $100,000 fine. By this time we’ll know if he was forced to sit out an entire quarter due to his transgression. The discipline is a joke. Apparently, his behavior is bad enough to cost him some cash, but not bad enough to risk putting a game on the line. Hall filed an appeal with the union, saying he felt the punishment was unjustified. As a manner of scale, he may be right. With his signing bonus, Hall will make $2.46 million this season which means he earns $38,437. 50 per quarter. Therefore, Hall is playing 1.6 quarters for free. Fight the power!
Michael Vick’s “apology” — his first steps toward what he hopes is reinstatement into the NFL in 2009 — has been called honest and contrite.
I don’t buy it.
Because he never actually admitted to committing any crime, the “apology” is nothing more than an attempt to build credibility.
Vick did not say he was sorry for betting on and financing a dog fighting ring — he said dog fighting is a terrible thing and that he rejects it. Why no admission of guilt? Because the deal he cut with federal prosecutors may not end his legal troubles.
Early last month, Virginia Commonwealth Attorney Gerald Poindexter told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution that he will in fact look into prosecuting Vick on animal cruelty and dog fighting charges. A conviction on animal cruelty in Virginia carries a sentence of up to five years per animal killed. The federal indictment against Vick and his co-defendants states that in April 2007, Vick, Purnell Peace and Quanis Phillips had executed eight dogs that did not test well. The indictment contains other accusations of dogs being killed but does not name Vick in those accounts. In June, the Virginia Pilot reported that authorities found 17 dog carcasses on the property owned by Vick. That’s a possible 136 years for just those dogs discovered at the Virginia home he purchased in 2001.
True, he didn't use notes, but he was certainly coached up enough not to admit to crimes while investigations into his actions are still taking place.
What may have been the most ridiculous thing said during the nearly five-minute mea culpa was that “we all make mistakes and I made a mistake in using bad judgment and making bad decisions and those things just can’t happen.” Misreading a pass coverage and throwing the ball to a defender is a mistake; running a dog fighting ring over a period of several years is a pattern of behavior that he enthusiastically embraced.
This wonderful grab at responsibility was followed by Vick saying “What I did was immature and I need to grow up.” What he did was criminal and in the words of commissioner Roger Goodell “cruel and reprehensible” — not immature, which hints at childlike enthusiasm and misunderstanding. Everyone at one time or another is immature. Not eveyone kills and uses it as an excuse.
In another attempt to put a positive spin on things and to make people think that he’s not the lowlife he really is, Vick said that he has asked Jesus for forgiveness and that he has put his life in the hands of God. A good PR move, but one that lacks any sort of knowledge of the heavenly process which requires a person to be truly repentant of their sins to be forgiven. Quite possibly Vick’s 10-minute conversion did not leave enough time for such in depth ecclesiastical discussion. On Dec. 10 we’ll know just how much time he has to brush up on such minor details.
The purpose of his statement was to help quell the fires around him and to make him seem like a sympathetic figure. Not an easy thing to do when you refer to yourself in the third person on two separate occasions. But as Vick said, he’s a football player and not a public speaker.
Vick says that he accepts full responsibility for his actions, but that’s a load of bull. Responsibility means more than just tip toeing around the truth and trying to win #### points by evoking the name of the big guy up stairs. He lied in the face of everyone and now calls it “not being honest and forthright.” Lawyer words for a liar.
Is Vick sorry? Of course he is. Sorry he got caught. For all the self-finger pointing, the fact is that if his idiotic cousin had not lead drug investigators to the home, the cruel enterprise would still be occurring and Vick would still be enjoying his celebrity status among the outstanding individuals who comprise the dog fighting community.
Officials removed 54 dogs from the property that will most likely have to be put down as no one will want to take a chance befriending an animal that may have been trained to kill. Vick’s plea agreement says that he must pay for the care of the animals, but what facility has the endless space and time to care for so many possibly dangerous animals?
Some have called his press conference sincere. I’m here to tell you it was a load of ####.
