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2/4/06 A BOND BETWEEN THEM
Forget all the hoopla about Bettis and Big Ben, about
Alexander the NFL great or the Pro Bowl quarterback that
came out of nowhere, what's his name, Hasselhoff (no that's
the actor!). Anyway, this game is about the COACHES!! That's
right. The guys who spend 169 hours in a 168 hour week
trying to figure out how best to outsmart the other guy
spending 168 hours a week on a game plan that will make
their city proud. Most of the time, these well-paid, but
mentally fatigued head men are out the door before they get
a fair chance, which in this corner, is five years. Here's
how it should work: get the job, reassess the first year,
move the dead wood out, bring in YOUR type of player, then
take the baby steps towards a championship. Most owners,
fans and players want the quick fix. For some, like the
Jets, it may never come, but with that said, the Seattle
Seahawks made it to the big SB for the first time in their
30 year history, so I guess nothing is impossible. And that
leads me back to the coaches. Besides the fact that Mike
Holmgren and Bill Cowher both wear mustaches, they also are
lucky enough to have patient owners, who were willing to
take the good with the bad on this long time rollercoaster
ride to Michigan. One year ago, most Starbuck drinking fans
were ready to pick up Holmgren, who already had a Super Bowl
ring by the way, and drive him directly to the closest CFL
city. But billionaire Paul Allen apparently looked around
the rest of the NFL and realized that he already made a good
business decision. Super Bowl coaches don't forget how to
coach and there aren't too many to go around. Face it, you
need the horses to carry the chariot to victory. And despite
Holmgren's sub .500 record in Seattle the prior six years,
Allen was steadfast, and now even the coffee clan at
Seattle's Best have to be satisfied. Same can be said now
for the steel-hardened Pittsburgh fan, spoiled by Chuck
Noll's four Super Bowl triumphs (was that the 1870's?),
there was no way Cowher could deliver the goods. "Geez, he's
been here 14 seasons, let's bring in a retread". But lest we
forget folks, that Kordell Stewart and Tommy Maddox were not
the second coming of Terry Bradshaw. They weren't even Trent
Dilfer (at least he won the Lombardi trophy with the
Ravens). And the Rooney's knew that. They understood what
they had in Cowher, a smart (hey, his daughter does go to
Princeton!) solid coach with a winning record. Now he's only
48 loooong minutes away from football immortality (which is
your own feature produced by NFL Films). Yes, this is about
the coaches, and although I'm selecting Seattle by a
touchdown, the fact is, I don't give a flying pigskin which
coach wins. It's just going to be a shame to see one of
these winners lose.
Note: Irony: Ford announces
30,000 layoffs just before Super Bowl comes to Detroit. Talk
about getting the Motown locals excited about the big game.
1/12/06 Well, another NFL
regular season is over and many of us are still licking our
wounds over another lost season for our beloved team. While
hope springs eternal with the upcoming draft, as diehard
football fans, it's time to jump on somebody else's playoff
bandwagon so that I can have something to root for. As
hollow as that is, I need a reason to scream at my
television every weekend. And it's even better when other
family members root for a different team than myself. My
daughter is a Patriots fan (yes, she even painted her face
two years ago) and I almost disowned my son for doing the
same, jumping on the Belichick bandwagon even though I've
already brainwashed him into being a 49er faithful. I guess
I should have been proud of him for picking the right team.
Anyway, since I cover the Giants and know some of the
players, I said "Why not root for the local team to go
all the way?" After all, they might just surprise some
people in a weak conference. Well they surprised all right!
And it got me to thinking. Which is worse? Going through a
miserable season with a team that looked like the Bad News
Bears in shoulder pads, OR, having an 11-5 year go up in
smoke in one rotten-egg-stinking
playoff game? While that debate rages on, I'm beginning to
wonder if I've created the Curci jinx! Hey, Sports
Illustrated has one, why not me!! So let's test the theory
again this week. And keep your fingers crossed that I didn't pick your team. Redskins over the Seahawks -
"Anyone who knows the words to Hail To The Redskins is okay
in my book. Plus, I'll give Gibbs the edge over Holmgren
any day." Broncos over the Patriots - "Just
another chance for me to get under my daughter's skin. Plus,
the Brady magic can only last so long, right??"
Colts over the Steelers - "Indy has something to prove and
even though they have not played a "real" game in four
weeks, expect these Colts to be buckin' and kickin' as they
knock down the steel curtain by double digits. The Colts
have always had the offense, and now they have a defense
good enough to get them the ring." Carolina
over Chicago - "Hope for a mild day in the windy city. Two
impressive defenses. Panthers have Foster, Steve "Snow
Angel" Smith and a more
than capable Jake "you can go Delhomme again at QB, which is more offense than Chicago
has combined." Super Bowl pick: Let's ride
the Colts all the way to Detroit. Just hope the Curci jinx
was only a one week thing. 12/29/05 Here are some random
thoughts to wrap up the old year and ring in the new. First,
congratulations and my deepest apologies to all those who
love Rutgers, since the boys of Scarlet proved me wrong this
year, albeit for the first time in decades. After the
debacle against Illinois to open the season, it looked like
the same old Rutgers was about to sink into another
quicksand of a football schedule on their way to a Santa's
sackful of excuses, but alas, they finally proved Division
One worthy by showing guts and character to not only bounce
back from their disappointing opening loss, but to take
Arizona State to the very end. And to think, we were wondering why the
yellow sport coats from the Insight Bowl were spending so
much time on the Rutgers campus? Well it wasn't because of
the top notch pizza joints in New Brunswick. No, there was
actually a bowl-worthy team inside those scarlet uniforms. Now
the trick is to keep the pigskin rolling, so to speak. After
all, it would be a darned shame if it were another 27 years
until their next bowl appearance. I guess 2032 isn't THAT
far away. And can someone please tell why
they just didn't play TAPS at the end of the Monday Night
Football finale? For goodness sake, there's still going to
be a game on Monday night next year, right? And Al Michaels
is going to be back in the booth next year, right? And I
don't think they're getting rid of Hank Williams Jr. either.
They're switching networks, not planets. And the networks
are owned by the same parent company. So how many changes
should
we really expect? While John Madden bolts for NBC, some new
blood in the sidekick chair might be a good idea. I never
quite felt that Madden had the same on-air comfort level
with Al as he did with Pat. There was always too much
RESPECT in the air. I miss the "booms", the "bangs" and the
"whaps". Fine, Al and John like each other, but the
commentary was too "cut and dried" for my taste. Hey, maybe
they can get another comedian to fill the seat. Oh,
and if there WAS a need to play TAPS, it would certainly be apropro
for the mostly miserable array of mismatches that
beset Monday Night's final seasons.
Some wishes for the new year:
1. That the Florida Marlins aren't
demoted to Triple A status. 2. That we hear more organ and
less canned music at Yankee Stadium. 3. That thoroughbred
racing gets their elusive Triple Crown winner. 4. That
Carlos and Carlos don't turn into Mo and Mike. 5. That the
hockey gods let the boys actually play the game again. 6.
For peace, happiness and good health to all . 11/24/05
Isn't It Ironic? This is sports irony at its
very best. For several years, the New York Football Giants,
as they're lovingly called in these parts, tried
everything but putting running back Ron Dayne in a taxi to
get him through a hole. They finally gave up after realizing
he couldn't help them in a Giants uniform. Well, Dayne would
eventually help Big Blue but in a Denver Broncos uniform,
rushing for 55 yards in overtime to set up the game winning
field goal on Thanksgiving Day. directly helping the Broncos
defeat the Cowboys, while indirectly helping the team who
gave up on him, with the Dallas loss keeping the Giants all
alone in first place. Who's smiling more? Mike Shanahan, Tom
Coughlin, or the great Dayne himself? You gotta love this
stuff! And isn't it ironic that Carlos
Delgado suddenly finds himself with the team he left at the
alter last year, when he said the Florida Marlins had a
better shot at getting to the World Series than the Mets. We
all know who has the better shot now, Carlos.
A Better Taste
Spring is in the air, which means that the boys of summer
are ready to play ball. And to be quite honest, the pine tar
smells sweeter, at least for now, knowing I can enjoy the
fact that the coveted home run records set by Hammerin' Hank
and the Babe are safe for now.
Most baseball fans have a bad taste in their mouths thanks
to the steroid issue without even taking them. And in this
corner, the Barry Bonds injury has put a little juice
(pardon the pun) back into the season, knowing that we won't
see Mr. Kayak chasing after another wet home run ball on the
nightly highlight shows.
I don't live under a rock, (although it doesn't sound like a
bad idea at times) and I understand that baseball has
oversome controversy and scandal before. But when we're
talking about the most hallowed record in the game, we
shouldn't have to think twice about the man who stands atop
the home run mountain.
I remember watching Henry Aaron break Babe Ruth's record,
watching the television with tremendous focus, taking it all
in, so as to remember that celebration forever. Same with
Cal Ripken's incredible streak of consecutive games played.
But when Bonds returns, I'll have no interest in watching
him peering at another sailing rocket he hits into the bay,
no interest in hearing the delirious hometown fans cheer,
and no interest in what he has to say afterwards. (Do you
really think he won't speak to the media then?)
For now, though, the lumber is in the rack, every team owns
playoff hopes, and every fan can watch this beautiful game,
without rose-colored glasses, at least for now.
Do We Really Need
Athletes As Role Models?
As a parent, I learned a long time ago not to make role
models out of professional athletes, but that's not to say I
started thinking that way early. Hey, it was baseball, apple
pie and Ed Kranepool for me when I was old enough to start
"idolizing" in the late 60's. In fact, I even wrote to the
New York Mets first baseman, and he actually sent back an
autographed picture with a genuine signature (not a
convincing-looking stamped kind) and from then on, it wasn't
Mickey Mantle or Boog Powell, but ED KRANEPOOL, a lifetime
.261 hitter, who made a little kid feel like he had a friend
in the major leagues. Even now, I've never forgotten that
act of kindness.
And while I wouldn't get much for that picture at a
memorabilia show, it doesn't matter. But it does beg the
question... how many ballplayers would actually take the
time to send an autographed picture by mail these days? Let
me tell you, that goodwill went a long way, a lifetime for
someone like me, and just as important, Kranepool did his
job on the field and off, a good guy with an understanding
of how important this was to a fledgling 10-year-old first
baseman. Even at that time, my parents made me understand
that these guys are just good ballplayers, not necessarily
role models nor are they supposed to be, and that if I
listened to good old mom and dad, and did well in school, I
would grow up to be a good person without needing the
blessing of a major league player. I listened, it turned out
to be good advice, and it's the same advice I have passed
along to my kids, who I've unfortunately had to make well
aware of the bad stuff in sports, while still enjoying the
games and performances for what they are, skilled efforts by
athletically gifted people. My kids know drugs are wrong,
steroids can kill you, and throwing a helmet is not in the
spirit of the sport. You know, maybe I should write some of
these ballplayers myself and thank them for helping to make
my job easier in teaching life's lessons. Lessons we once
got off the street can easily be found everyday on TV. And
who said parenting isn't easy?
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