Yet another major star - actually two in this case - were named as being on the infamous 2003 list of players testing positive for PEDs.  Manny Ramirez?  No surprise there; he tested positive for a hiding agent this year.  He's not quit.  Ortiz?  This should have surprised NO ONE.  Not a single person.  Nor should anyone actually think that other Red Sox players weren't on the juice in 2003.  To think that is to be incredibly naive, or merely dumb.  Take your pick - I don't care.  The honest person will look at that team, and look at the majors in general, and say: "They juiced."  Simple as that.

What does this do for Ortiz and Manny?  In Ortiz's case, it simply emphasizes his incredible jump in his slugging percentage.  In Minnesota, in the 4 years in which he played in over 1/2 of the games, he earned an average slugging percentage of .467.  That's not all that great.  But in Boston he suddenly has an average of .593?  That's nearly a 30% increase - and that basically started just in one year.  It wasn't like Ortiz had years in the mid .400s and then a couple in the mid .500s and then trending upwards like you'd expect to see as a young power hitter hit a stride.  Instead, Ortiz is like jumping off up a cliff - one year he averages .467; the next .593.  In professional sports - at the elite levels of professional athletics - that simply isn't possible.  No one does it.  By the way, in a year in which Ortiz can't juice he's back down to .409.  What's that tell you? 

Here's what is so frustrating.  No one wants to accept the truth, that virtually every major player in baseball used steriods or other PEDs at some time or another.  There was too much pressure, and far too much money.  What's a little dose of HGH going to hurt if it means you can come back sooner from an injury, win that extra game or two, posting a 20 win season instead of an 18 win one, and demand an extra $5 million in salary?  YOU ARE A TOTAL FOOL IF YOU THINK ALL BASEBALL PLAYERS DIDN'T SEE AND THINK THAT.  Or you're dumb.  Take your pick.  Their AGENTS certainly knew it.  Don't think they are without guilt here.  They knew it, and probably dripped just enough poison into their ears to make sure their message was received loud and clear. 

Baseball used to pride itself on being able to hold up over 100 years of stats and claim statistical validity for all of them.  Can't do that now, can they? 

Or maybe, given the news here in Pittsburgh, I'm just yelling sour grapes.  The last two remaining actually good players here were traded.  I'm not venting steam at the owners for this; I think that it's a good idea, frankly.  It's not like the Pirates were going to win games with the players that they had!  But how can one be a fan of a team when...well, it's like watching the movie Major League.  "This guy is dead!  Well, cross him off, then!" 

Long live the Pirates.

Today, the Philadelphia Eagles announced that Sean McDermott was given the interim defensive coordinator label.  While the move was widely expected, it still comes as a tremendous blow to the team, especially the defense, and to the city as well.  The Eagles are a team that expect to challenge for the Super Bowl this coming year, and the loss of Jim Johnson is one that cannot easily be overstated.

A hallmark of the Eagles has been Johnson patrolling the sidelines, calling pressure defense after pressure defense.  He devises new wrinkles all of the time, and seems to have an uncanny knack for knowing exactly when to call a pressure scheme, and what scheme to use.  There are usually two or three defensive coordinators that get any substantial press as being the best in the NFL, and Johnson is always, always in that group.  He deserves it; his Eagles have been defensive juggernauts for several years now.  The offense may go up and down, but the one constant in Philadelphia has been a consistently aggressive and challenging defense.  That attribute is entire Johnson's doing, and that's what makes this loss so painful.

As ESPN has said, Sean McDermott has been running the defense since mini-camps.  Johnson's on-going battle with cancerous tumors on his spine has prevented him from coaching.  While McDermott has a near-total comprehension of Johnson's exotic schemes, it remains to be seen whether or not McDermott has the same 'touch' or not.  That's the one element of a defensive coordinator's job that cannot be replicated by anyone else.  That's why this loss is so difficult to swallow.  McDermott may know all the technical elements of the defense, but does he have the touch, the timing?  Can he make the adjustments, and add the same little wrinkles that Johnson did?  Can he get that defense - who to a man loves Johnson - to play the same way for him?  Unless Johnson can build a personal defense against cancer and return to the NFL, McDermott is going to have to adapt very quickly.  I am sure that he is both capable and qualified.  But it's highly unlikely he'll be quite as good as Johnson, or quite as capable.  It's a most challenging task to follow a legend.  McDermott has that task.

As I'm sure every real NFL fan will understand, this also serves as a public "get well soon" message.  The NFL, and the Philadelphia Eagles, are better with Jim Johnson in it.  Get well soon, Jim.

I'll apologize in advance: this is going to be a long post. 

I was thinking this evening about why I love the sport, game, and all of the associated elements with American football.  I think the love of the sport was cemented by playing.  In high school I played every year.  I was not a great athlete then, nor am I one now.  I was never a standout, didn't win any awards, and wasn't given the merest hint of a look by a college - any college.  That didn't bother me, however, nor does it bother me now.  For in my high school days, now almost twenty years ago, I didn't play for glory or a reputation; I played because I loved it.

As I started thinking about it, I realized that I have only fractured memories of those days.  I can't tell you about the games or the opponents to any degree.  There was a game in my junior year that was a special game; I'll get to it later because it deserves mention all its own.  No, my memories are shards of moments in time.  Lounging in the spacious gym with the lights off, laughing because one of the team leaders had covered his entire torso with Mineral Ice.  The damn fool ended up running around and doing exercises because he was so cold!  We laughed like fools, and then joined him, for we too suddenly realized that Mineral Ice is damn COLD stuff!  I remember my head coach talking about getting hit in the 'nacho chips.'  Why he chose 'nacho chips' as a metaphor for taking one in the privates is beyond me.  But that was his description.  The practice field was pitted and baked, hard as a rock and scarred.  We prayed for rain, and the one day that we got a torrential downpour, we played for a long time in fumble (oskie) drills.  Everyone who participated was covered head to toe in glorious, stinky, slimy mud.  Coaches wouldn't let us enter the gym to get to the locker room without taking the hose to us.  The explosion I had one practice when we were running the same play over and over, and the punk sophomore in front of me knew it, and kept diving inside, resulting in me getting screamed at by coaches for not doing the proper thing.  I recall yelling back, feeling as angry as I'd ever felt in my life.  That next play the little punk sophomore got driven backwards ten yards and then I pancaked his sorry butt.  I was a tight end in those days, and getting pancaked by a tight end had the rest of his buddies teasing him.  The practice my junior year after a game in which we were blitzed to death, and got crushed.  The toughest guy on our team that year was the full back.  My job, on the scout team, was the inside linebacker, and my job was to blitz every single play.  His job was to block me.  We ran at each other from 5 yard distances, and I don't think my head ever hurt as badly as it did after that practice.  I noticed that he was as exhausted as I was after that long practice.  I remember the dreaded rippers, and how they sapped the strength and the wind after twenty or thirty yards, but giving up meant failure, and that wasn't an option, either. 

My senior year I was a two-way starter for Burgettstown High School.  We were a bad team - I think we won one or two games.  I remember the second game of the year.  The defense had the defensive end flexed out a yard or two wider.  I remember that I was totally baffled by that, and missed block after block.  The coaches were screaming at me on the sidelines, and Saturday morning's film session was equally pleasant.  I made my first catch in that game, though, a short 'pop' play (as we called it) that went for twelve yards and a first down.  The only problem was that I got hit hard in the side of my knee.  I remember being told not to show any pain to the opponent; that's hard to do when your knee suddenly refuses to work.  I remember the 'rain game' in which the thunderstorm's downpour was so powerful that we could barely see the sidelines.  The coaches couldn't get the defenses called, so I called my own.  For a play or two; then the lightning forced a halt, and we continued the game on Saturday afternoon.  On that game I crushed a running back when the opponent ran a misdirection play and I wasn't fooled; in that same game I got beat by a running back on a passing play that resulted in the game-winning touchdown.  I didn't jam him at the line - that was my mistake.  I remember the Homecoming game in which I was wide open by twenty yards...and the pass was thrown tantalizingly out of my reach.  I remember playing against someone who worked at the same restaurant that I did, and that on one play I had to block him, and I drove him backwards 15 yards while the running back had his hand on my back, guiding me to block as he followed me downfield. 

On the season's final game we were once again 1-9, facing Washington High School, who again was one of the top AA teams in the state.  There wasn't any surprise in this game.  They beat us, beat us up, and kicked us sadly to the curb.  I had a big twenty-five yard catch in that game, and it was thrown somewhat behind me.  I had to turn and jump for it, and two defensive backs hit me at the same time.  I don't remember feeling any pain; I'd caught the ball.  Later, at the school dance afterwards, I was told many times about how great that catch was, and it felt really damn good.  But other aspects of that game weren't so good.  I was literally tossed aside by a defensive player that had inches, weight and strength on me.  He then crushed our running back.  Our running back didn't finish that game; he separated his shoulder as a result of that big defensive end (but not on that play that I distinctly remember). 

My junior year was a difficult one for me.  I was almost good enough, but not quite, and the sophomore who was playing the inside linebacker position that should have been mine was (in truth, now) a much better athlete.  He was the right player for that game.  However, on a magical night which I'll never forget, he was yanked, replaced by me, and well, this is how it turned out.  This was the night of my life in terms of sports achievement.  You might read this and believe that there isn't much to it, and perhaps you're right.  But it's my highlight.

It was the fall of 1990.  Burgettstown High School carried a 1-8 record into the season's final game.  Wash High had always been our biggest rival.  A few years prior both our school and theirs battled for our conference supremacy.  Going back a few years, Wash High and my school had battles that were reminiscent of the 70s Raiders/Steelers wars.  Accusations about letting the grass grow too high were made to slow down Wash High's faster, quicker backs.  It was our Super Bowl.  I remember that week clearly.  We chanted all week "Beat Wash High" during practice.  Then, on Friday, we got our traditional season finale dinner - a steak dinner.  All week that Beat Wash High had become our mantra.  We installed a new defense - a 4-3 scheme we called the Diamond.  But our secret weapon was an offense borrowed straight from the NFL - the Silver Strech offense.  It was Detroit's Run n Shoot offense in the late 80s, and we set that up.  Wash High that year, coming into that game, was 9-0 and ranked second in the AA classification in PA.  They had not given up more than 1 TD in a game all year.  Their 4-4 defense was so good that no one could run on them, and their lineman and 'backers so fast that the passing game didn't have a prayer, either.  Guy Montecalvo was their coach, a highly respected local coach, and a very good one.  We had a quarterback known for more his 'endowment' and his stupid looks than his ability to play the game.  But we had a spread offense, something that no one had dared run against Wash High all year, and something they weren't expecting.

The game started with our offense on the field in our spread formation.  Their linebackers were looking around in confusion.  Before the game we'd kept up with our Beat Wash High mantra, and seeing their defense looking around in bafflement added to it.  But we didn't do much in terms of scoring.  The first quarter ended with us down 14-0 and it looked all the world like the game was going to end.  The second TD was a run that went right through the sophomore linebacker that had taken my starting position.  He was pulled; I was told that I'd be going into the game.  I knew the defense, knew my responsibilities, and was ready.  On the ensuing kickoff, we got the jump that we needed with our kick returner took it to the house.  Our place kicker was in the honor society, and was kind of a fat kid, and a nerd.  The nerd kicked the extra point using the soccer-style motion.  On the very next possession for Wash High, when I was in the game, I got the two best two plays of my entire football playing career.  A blitz was called, and it was a pass play.  I shot the gap, and the QB saw me coming but I reached out just enough and got his shirt.  I twisted away and brought him down with me.  A sack!  The next play was a sweep exactly in my direction.  All year we'd been taught to read and react; read the play and shoot the gap.  I did it exactly and perfectly as coached, shooting the gap and burying their good RB in the backfield for a 3-yard loss.  We forced them to punt, and then our offense, the goof-ball QB, tough RB, and tall, lanky WRs, moved the ball steadily down the field.  Our spread baffled them; they couldn't figure it out.  Next thing you know, a TD pass was thrown to a diving WR on a quick slant.  The nerd kicked his 2nd straight extra point.  Score: 14-14.  It remained that way.  Our locked room was loud and jubilant.  It felt like a win to us; we'd just managed to forge a tie game with one of the state's best schools.  Their vaunted defense was being picked apart by our spread attack.  I was a hero in the locker room as well, with the only sack of the first half and that 3-yard tackle for a loss. 

The second half had us going up 21-14 after the nerd kicked yet another extra point.  The offense had again moved the ball steadily against their vaunted defense, and still, their linebackers couldn't react to our offense.  On defense we continued to play well, our Diamond defense making it hard for them to run against us.  I can't remember what was different about that defense.  It might have been nothing - just a ploy to get us to think we were doing something else.  But whatever it was, it was working.  We stopped them again.  Then, they did manage to score, but they missed the extra point.  We held a slim 1-point margin.  Somewhere in there was a play in which I took the hardest hit of my playing life.  I was following the play, scraping off as the backside linebacker.  Out of no where I was hit as hard as you can be hit in high school ball.  I remember that for the next two plays I had very little idea of where I was, what I was supposed to do.  On the tape you can see that I'm woozy even.  But I didn't leave the game.  Later, after watching the game film, I saw how the fullback had peeled off, saw him, and just unloaded on me.  Not fun.  We scored our fourth TD of the night.  The nerd kicked his fourth extra point.  Then, on the ensuing kick-off, he reached out in desperation and just managed to clutch the shoulder pads of the returner; without his stand-out play of the night, he would have scored easily and perhaps that game wouldn't be nearly as memorable for me.  But he held on, and even the late TD Wash High scored didn't change the game.  We won the game, and the celebration was on.

There's a picture of our team on Wash High's field.  We look like we won the Super Bowl.  Steam is rising from our bodies, and there are muddy faces split with wide, youthful grins.  The final score was 28-27, and Wash High's season was ruined; they lost the next week in the first round of the playoffs.  We'd taken something out of that team that year.  In the locker room after the game, the celebration was tremendous.  But then I remember the bus ride home being utterly silent.  No one had any energy left to celebrate.  We'd left it all on the field.  Every last ounce.  I ended up that game recording 4 tackles total along with my 1 sack.  On Monday we held our final film session.  The coaches bought Big Macs for everyone.  I'd never eaten a Big Mac before that Monday afternoon; I don't think I've eaten one since.  But that hamburger was the best hamburger you could ever taste.  We walked around the high school that Monday Lords of all that we surveyed.  The flim session was a joyous event, as all of the big plays were celebrated.  The kicker's kicks and last-gasp tackle.  Our kickoff return for a TD, and the 3 TD plays we earned later in the game.  The antics of our mad-man middle linebacker moshing by himself, with himself, in the middle of the field. 

I think that in one respect I was lucky with this game.  Some athletes taste one kind of glory of a local or state championship.  Others maybe have a signature win or two.  But not that many people have the win that no one can see coming, when the underdogs through pure luck or pluck pull off the tremendous upset.  It was Applachain State beating Michigan - that's what our upset felt like.  We had no business beating Wash High that year, and yet we did it.  So I got to taste the glory of that kind of win, perhaps one of the rarest team wins you can have, especially in high school football. 

It was in those days of August two-a-days, and summertime lifting sessions, that my love of football were seeded.  I remember not liking practice but loving the games, and despite losing records, having fun playing the game.  I remember the disappointments of the losses, and since they were so rare, the thrill of the wins.  I remember bits and pieces now, and they are both highlights and lowlights, but they are mine.  I think that it takes time and distance to appreciate those moments.  As a college student I wouldn't have placed the same degree of importance on those events.  They were, after all, the things that most western Pennsylvania high school kids did.  We played football; that's what we did.  But time and experience has changed those memories.  They are more than they were, to me.  They are routine in many ways, but they are important.  And cherished.  They are the root of a love affair with the game of football.  This is why I'm a fan.  This is why I love football.

The Pirates are on the 3rd (I think) iteration of the proverbial '5 year plan' to return to winning.  All is going to plan, except for the part about returning to winning.  The Pirates are a laughingstock, an embarrassment to the city and to the sport.  So I tend to ignore every move they make, and treat them with utter disdain.  So it's a little surprising to me that I'm actually going to write something about them, and this in a semi-positive tone.

One of the Pirates past failures is that they would start down the path of a particular plan, and for reasons known only to those in power, would stop moving down that path and suddenly jump to another one.  This led to the Pirates trading top talent - some for prospects, some for cash - and putting the fanbase firmly in 'rebuilding' mode.  Then, the blasted idiots would turn around and sign some veterans (usually past their prime and for more money than they were really worth) and see if they could somehow cobble together *something*.  The only thing this did was destroy the franchise completely, and what's worse it was really done from within.  The Pirates facade of a major league team was bad enough, but the cupboards were so bare in the minors that there was utterly no hope.  None.  Even their drafts were panned.

So why is this year different?  Why are all of these trades - essentially, if my math is right, a full 1/2 of the starting fielders - providing some semblance of hope, however small that hope may be?  Because the Pirates seem to have a plan, and in the face of withering criticism from the still-loyal fanbase, they are sticking to it.  The Pirates have a starting team that has some nice players, but no cornerstones.  They don't have anyone around whom the team can build.  Look at St. Louis with Albert Pujols - that's a player that a team can build around.  Since the Pirates don't have that particular player, they have to take a slightly different tactic.  They have to get as much value from their starting players that they can.  The 2009 season is already lost, and they are now virtually assured of their 17th straight losing season.  So why bother to put on airs?  Why not blow up the whole stinking mess and start over?  That's exactly what they are doing, and while it'll take a few years to really know the value of these trades, they are at least sticking to a plan.  It might be flawed, it's certainly dangerous and filled with the possibility of a huge backfire, but it's a plan.  The Pirates have a PLAN!  We should all rejoice.  The point is that the Pirates are working to rebuild a bare minor league system.  They are working to get as much value as they can, and in return are working to build up a solid system.  This does not necessarily mean that in 2011 the Pirates will win the World Series.  No one is *that* delusional.  But a return to competitiveness?  That's not asking a whole lot.  And if the Pirates make a key draft pick, or get lucky somewhere, well, who knows. 

The point is that for the first time in some time, there is hope.  It's not for 2009, or not really even 2010.  The team sucks, and there's no sugar-coating that fact.  No one on that team is untouchable.  Not a single player.  Therefore, making these trades, getting younger players with higher upsides makes more sense than doing nothing at all.  After all, nothing at all brought us 17 losing seasons.  Doing SOMETHING might reverse that misfortune.

I hope.

In the era of the salary cap and parity, it seems that every year one team makes a huge leap forward and earns a playoff spot (or at least some serious cred) where most observersed believed the team was closer to dead than anything else.  Last year, we had three such teams: the Arizona Cardinals, the Miami Dolphins and the Atlanta Falcons. 

This year, all 3 of those teams are getting much closer inspection.  The Cards have endured a pretty rough off-season and with the turnover in the coaching staff and player animosity, things are poised for the Cards to tumble.  The Falcons improved by adding TE Tony Gonzales - a mid-range passing weapon was really the only thing Ryan lacked last year.  The Dolphins should continue to be a good team, but the reality they face is a tougher schedule and a Patriots team that will surely include Tom Brady. 

So who's poised to rise from the ashes of a poor 2008 season and battle to make the playoffs?  There are some contenders...

The "trendy" pick is the Cincinnati Bengals.  Now, some of that is because Chad #85 says so, but in reality there are a lot of things that Bengals faithful can look at and feel a sense of hope.  When he's healthy, Carson Palmer is among the league's best and most accurate passers.  He's smart, strong-armed and has a great touch for the ball.  As both Pittsburgh and Arizona showed last year, having a star QB is more of a benefit than can easily be put into words.  Plus, he understands how to work that Cincy offense.  But the real reason the Bengals are getting some love is that most people believe they have upgraded their defense enough to make them a much better overall team.  The hard part is their division, and to some degree, their conference.  They will have to vault above either (or both) the Ravens and Steelers, not to mention the Chargers, Pats, Colts and/or the Titans.  That's a dominant listing of teams you have there; cracking it will take a tremendous season.  That being said, there's some real reason to think that the Bengals can do it.

Another interesting pick could be the Houston Texans.  Like Cincy, they have a long, uphill climb in their own division.  But both sides of the ball seem to be improving steadily.  If the Texans can pick up where they left off last year, and continue moving forward, they could be in a position to unseat the Colts or Titans.  It's a long shot, because talent-wise, both the Titans and Colts have edges in key areas.  But the Texans have displayed an ability to move forward steadily, and really haven't had any major distractions this off-season.  Neither the Colts nor Titans can make that same claim, and one has to wonder how much the loss of Haynesworth will impact the Titans defense. 

Could the Buffalo Bills make a post-season run?  This would qualify for a major surprise.  The "TO Show" notwithstanding, this isn't a team that's really built to tackle the big dogs in their own division, let alone its conference.  The Bills have kind of been a moribund team for 3 straight years.  Trent Edwards and HC Dick Juaron seem awfully mild-mannered; their ability to 'handle' TO may be the focal point for this entire season.  Talent-wise, the Bills are below all three teams in their own division.  But you just never know, and since the Bills have some decent talent in key spots all over the field, and on both sides of the ball, if they get the right blend of things rolling, who's to say they can't make the playoffs?

Could (ahem) the Oakland Raiders make a run?  To their credit, the NFC West is comparatively weak than other divisions.  The Chargers will likely be the top dog in this division, but with Denver's implosion and KC's rebuilding process, there is a clear path for the Raiders.  The problem is that they don't have a known quality at QB.  Russell might one day be a good QB, but not only is the jury still out on that, but the early returns regarding Russell's practice habits, etc., are not good.  Like the Bills, it would take almost a perfect culmination of events. 

But then again, the 2008 Falcons were projected as being one of the NFL's worst teams!  Anything can happen, right?

In the NFC, the only 'East' team that gets any kind of discussion are the Redskins.  They've had their own fair share of upheaval this off-season, starting with the QB situation.  The Skins improved on defense with Haynesworth and a good draft, and their offense wasn't all that bad with Campbell.  The brutal truth of the matter is that the Eagles and Giants are both definitely better, and the Cowboys seem a little better.  Getting into the playoffs means having to forge a road through what will likely be labeled the best division in football (again) and that makes the job that much more difficult.

The Chicago Bears have a lot of reasons to feel confidence.  Now, they get on this list only because they missed the post-season last year.  They, like the Vikings in 2008, are a borderline team.  It won't take much to make, or miss, the playoffs.  The addition of Cutler, however, ideally positions the Bears to return to the playoffs after their brief absence. 

Like the NFC North, in which 3 teams all have legit playoff hopes, the NFC South has 3 teams with legit playoff hopes.  So instead, let's look at the Bucs.  Can the Bucs make a run back to the playoffs?  There are suggestions that perhaps they can - they will roll out a solid defense and solid running game.  But there are so many questions at QB (like who's going to start!) that it makes choosing the Bucs as a "surprise" team very hard to fathom.  But, for argument's sake, let's say Josh Freeman sheds that 'raw talent' label very quickly, especially considering some of the player/coaches he'll have like Byron Leftwich.  The Bucs have enough talent to go far.  Unsetting the Falcons, Pathers and Saints, however, will require a lot more than mere talent.

Out west, the Niners are perhaps the team to watch.  There are some good reasons why this is true - Singletary very well may through sheer force of personality make this a better team.  The West is considerably weaker than the other 3 divisions in the NFC, as both the Seahawks and Cardinals have some exploitable weaknesses.  But both teams figure to be at least as good as last year or significantly improved, which means the Niners will have to improve a great deal as well.

Overall, as I wrote this, what strikes me as that there are a lot of divisions in the NFL that have some really intriguing teams.  The NFC East, South and North all have some really interesting stories that will have to play out over the course of the year.  With all of the good teams, of which I think the NFC has more, it creates a situation in which there will be at least 2 or 3 'good' teams that miss out on the playoffs.  The AFC is a little more top-heavy; there are more 'better' and 'worse' teams in the AFC than in the NFC.  In any event, what's sure to happen is that there will be some teams in both conferences that miss the playoffs (surprising everyone) and some teams that make the playoffs (again surprising everyone).  We just have to watch and wait to find out who will be the 2009 NFL Surprise Teams!