The penalty was for one yard. Three measly feet. Yet it seemed like a mile, and it felt like a reminder to us of Lions ineptitude and bad timing.
One more act of stupidity, right? One very Lions-esque thing to do, to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory and turn what had been a fun, festive Sunday afternoon into something that Stephen King might have penned.
Cliff Avril was the Lions player this time. He was the one looking to the heavens, shaking his head, wondering why he had just done what he had just done.
It's been a question asked too often by and about Lions players of the past.
What did Cliff Avril just do?? Are you kidding me?
Avril had inexplicably jumped offsides, as if he'd been shot out of a toy cannon, with the Minnesota Vikings on the Lions' two-yard line, sans time outs, and the clock heading for single digits.
The blunder stopped the clock, of course, with nine ticks remaining.
The infraction moved the Vikings merely a yard closer to paydirt, but that yard carried a big stick.
It was but a yard, but it appeared to represent so much more.
Avril's gift of a yard to the Vikings looked like it would be the three feet that QB Joe Webb needed to march his team to the winning score. The Lions led 34-28 but never before did a six-point lead look so fragile. It wasn't a lead, it was a fraying rope with a piano tied to it, hovering over the Lions' playoff hopes.
And Avril, it looked like, had just held a blowtorch to that fraying piece of rope.
He did WHAT?
Tell me that your thoughts didn't go back to Bobby Ross going for two or Marty Mornhinweg taking the wind. Tell me they didn't and I'll call you a liar.
Tell me, as the Vikings lined up at the one-yard line with nine seconds left, on the verge of wiping out a 21-point deficit and squeezing the life out of the Lions' season, that you didn't think back to the Matt Millen Era and the Paul Edinger field goal on the last play of the 2000 season which led to said Era.
Avril's random act of madness caused a packed house at Ford Field to cease breathing, which the faithful didn't re-commence doing until Avril, of all people, finally pounced on a football (aka the greased pigskin) that bounded some 50 yards downfield after it was slapped from Webb's hands by a blitzing DeAndre Levy.
The final play of Sunday's game was like the final scene of a horror movie---the kind where the girl is about to get killed and the hero shoots the villain from behind, when you didn't even know the hero was around.
It was a stunning finish to a game that the Lions should have had in their back pocket, except that pocket had a hole the size of Joe Webb in it.
The Lions had no clue as to how to deal with Webb, who bounced around like a pinball in the Vikings backfield, rattling off one would-be Lions tackler after the other, and always ending up in a bonus cup.
Webb ran around and around and around---sometimes appearing to run half the length of the football field, except horizontally and in zig-zag fashion.
As Lions coach Jim Schwartz said afterward as he was still catching his breath, his team tried everything against Webb. And still Webb almost led the Vikings back from a 31-14 second half deficit.
Webb started the comeback by managing to gallop from the pocket to the end zone, some 65 yards away, with no Lions defender within a 10-yard radius. He made Denard Robinson look like Scott Mitchell.
It all came down to the Vikings at the Lions' one, with nine seconds left. Three feet away from a tying touchdown and the near-certain go-ahead PAT.
Three feet from the apparent end of the Lions' season, or certainly the beginning of the end.
Three feet from another brutal loss that this town would be talking about for years to come.
Then Levy struck, blowing up Webb and the Vikes' hopes of an improbable victory.
"I was nervous, watching that football," Schwartz said afterward of Webb's game-ending fumble, his words captured by Fox 2 Detroit's post-game show camera. "I thought (Webb) would pick it up and start running around with it again."
Good thing Webb didn't. I don't think football fans can hold their breath that long.
Showing posts with label Minnesota Vikings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Minnesota Vikings. Show all posts
Monday, December 12, 2011
Monday, September 27, 2010
Lions Prove Again to be What the Doctor Ordered
The problem with the Lions is that they're available without prescription.
You don't need a junkie to score a dose, when you find yourself ailing and in need of a pick-me-up victory.
For years, the Lions have been the NFL's elixir---something you take when you're feeling punky.
I can't imagine that there was real, genuine panic in and around the Twin Cities after the Minnesota Vikings fell to 0-2 after last week's loss to the Miami Dolphins. Disappointment? Sure. Anxiousness? Probably a little bit.
But panic?
How could there have been, when the best cure-all since Dr. Jonas Salk accidentally discovered penicillin was on the schedule for Week Three?
If you're the other team, and you need a win to chase away the doldrums, you take the Detroit Lions, wash them down with a glass of water and wait.
Sometimes the Lions kick in right away; other times, you have to wait three quarters for results, occasionally even longer.
But the Lions always come through. They're the NFL's Tylenol 3 to the other 31 teams' migraines.
The Vikings were sniffing, sneezing and coughing on their way into their dome Sunday morning. The 0-2 start hit them like a ton of bricks. Something was going around the NFL and the Vikings had caught it. The Cowboys, 49ers, and a bunch of other teams had been inflicted, too.
The Vikings took a healthy dose of Detroit Lions and, a few hours later, they were feeling much better.
You watch the Lions and you can kind of see them in sepia tones, moving in super-fast motion with the occasional caption card, like the old Keystone Kops flicks in the days of silent movies.
Leading the Vikings 7-0 on Sunday and having just forced a nice three-and-out, the Lions were poised to get the ball back. Punt returner Stefan Logan awaited the booted ball.
I see the play now in sepia, in fast motion. The caption card flashes on the screen, the calliope music playing in the foreground.
"WHOOPS!!"
"MUFF!"
"RATS!"
Logan, running toward the football, diverted his gaze away from the ball and by the time he un-diverted it, the football was bouncing off his fingertips and into the arms of the eagerly awaiting Vikings kick coverers.
The Lions' generosity continued on the very next play when they declined to cover Percy Harvin, and QB Brett Favre hit the wide open receiver for a 23-yard touchdown.
More sepia tones. More calliope music.
Vikings running back Adrian Peterson torched the Lions for an 80-yard TD run in the third quarter. It was the sort of big play that the Lions swear after every game they can't afford to surrender and yet manage to, the very next week.
More Keystone Kops images.
Lions QB Shaun Hill threw not one but two interceptions in the Vikings' end zone, in the waning minutes of the game.
The Lions are the medication that never stops working.
It all added up to another of those 24-10 type losses in Minnesota, the kind beset with suicidal football plays and interceptions. The Lions have been losing that way in Minnesota for 13 years now.
After the game, there were a lot of "We can't keep doing that" and "We're better than that" quotes coming from Lions players, quotes that keep getting printed, as if they're full of profundity---or as if we've never read them before.
If the Lions are subscribing to the "take one step backward to take two steps forward" method of improving, Sunday's game was the step backward---presuming you recognize the closes losses in Weeks One and Two to be the two steps forward.
However they step, the Lions are 0-3. They were close twice, and not so close yesterday.
Doesn't matter. This is the NFL, where the weak are eaten and moral victories are for losers.
Just another Sunday in Minnesota for the Lions. The spread was Minnesota giving 11 points, and they still covered.
Someone could have made a mint hawking the Lions off the back of a truck.
You don't need a junkie to score a dose, when you find yourself ailing and in need of a pick-me-up victory.
For years, the Lions have been the NFL's elixir---something you take when you're feeling punky.
I can't imagine that there was real, genuine panic in and around the Twin Cities after the Minnesota Vikings fell to 0-2 after last week's loss to the Miami Dolphins. Disappointment? Sure. Anxiousness? Probably a little bit.
But panic?
How could there have been, when the best cure-all since Dr. Jonas Salk accidentally discovered penicillin was on the schedule for Week Three?
If you're the other team, and you need a win to chase away the doldrums, you take the Detroit Lions, wash them down with a glass of water and wait.
Sometimes the Lions kick in right away; other times, you have to wait three quarters for results, occasionally even longer.
But the Lions always come through. They're the NFL's Tylenol 3 to the other 31 teams' migraines.
The Vikings were sniffing, sneezing and coughing on their way into their dome Sunday morning. The 0-2 start hit them like a ton of bricks. Something was going around the NFL and the Vikings had caught it. The Cowboys, 49ers, and a bunch of other teams had been inflicted, too.
The Vikings took a healthy dose of Detroit Lions and, a few hours later, they were feeling much better.
You watch the Lions and you can kind of see them in sepia tones, moving in super-fast motion with the occasional caption card, like the old Keystone Kops flicks in the days of silent movies.
Leading the Vikings 7-0 on Sunday and having just forced a nice three-and-out, the Lions were poised to get the ball back. Punt returner Stefan Logan awaited the booted ball.
I see the play now in sepia, in fast motion. The caption card flashes on the screen, the calliope music playing in the foreground.
"WHOOPS!!"
"MUFF!"
"RATS!"
Logan, running toward the football, diverted his gaze away from the ball and by the time he un-diverted it, the football was bouncing off his fingertips and into the arms of the eagerly awaiting Vikings kick coverers.
The Lions' generosity continued on the very next play when they declined to cover Percy Harvin, and QB Brett Favre hit the wide open receiver for a 23-yard touchdown.
More sepia tones. More calliope music.
Vikings running back Adrian Peterson torched the Lions for an 80-yard TD run in the third quarter. It was the sort of big play that the Lions swear after every game they can't afford to surrender and yet manage to, the very next week.
More Keystone Kops images.
Lions QB Shaun Hill threw not one but two interceptions in the Vikings' end zone, in the waning minutes of the game.
The Lions are the medication that never stops working.
It all added up to another of those 24-10 type losses in Minnesota, the kind beset with suicidal football plays and interceptions. The Lions have been losing that way in Minnesota for 13 years now.
After the game, there were a lot of "We can't keep doing that" and "We're better than that" quotes coming from Lions players, quotes that keep getting printed, as if they're full of profundity---or as if we've never read them before.
If the Lions are subscribing to the "take one step backward to take two steps forward" method of improving, Sunday's game was the step backward---presuming you recognize the closes losses in Weeks One and Two to be the two steps forward.
However they step, the Lions are 0-3. They were close twice, and not so close yesterday.
Doesn't matter. This is the NFL, where the weak are eaten and moral victories are for losers.
Just another Sunday in Minnesota for the Lions. The spread was Minnesota giving 11 points, and they still covered.
Someone could have made a mint hawking the Lions off the back of a truck.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Spielman Would Agree: Vikings "Not Guilty" Yesterday
Chris Spielman called it the most humiliating thing that's ever happened to him on the football field. And Spielman played eight years for the Detroit Lions, so you know that he had quite a selection of humiliating moments from which to choose.
Spielman and the Lions were losing, 45-0, to the Washington Redskins in Week 1 of the 1991 season. And yes, it was as bad as the scored indicated. Maybe worse. But as bad as that butt-kicking was, it didn't compare, in Spielman's mind, to what happened toward the end of the game.
The 'Skins were driving again, and had the ball inside the Lions' 10-yard line. There were under two minutes to play. Then the humiliating part.
The Redskins took a knee. Then they took another knee, draining the clock of its remaining time. All while Spielman, the tough-as-nails middle linebacker from Massillon, Ohio, wished the Earth would open up and swallow him whole.
"When they [took the knee], I was embarrassed, humiliated. No one has ever taken pity on me or my teammates on the field before," Spielman said afterward in the quiet of the Lions' locker room.
The Redskins didn't want to run up a 45-0 score to 52-0, which to a casual observer would appear to be a good, proper thing. But not to Spielman, who competed every week as if his very life depended on it.
"If they score, they score," Spielman continued. "That's better than feeling sorry for me!"
Spielman comes to mind in the wake of the Minnesota Vikings' 34-3 win over the Dallas Cowboys yesterday in the Divisional Playoffs. Seems some of the Cowboys, notably veteran LB Keith Brooking and head coach Wade Phillips, have accused the Vikings of running up the score---aggressively driving for a touchdown in the final minutes, already leading 27-3 and with the Cowboys devoid of timeouts. Brooking screamed at Vikings coach Brad Childress, and later called the final touchdown "classless."
I can see both sides of the coin here. Like most disputes, the answer lies somewhere in the middle.
I think the beef the Cowboys have is with the Vikings' play selection, read: too many passes. The Vikings took the ball over at the Dallas 37. There was 5:26 remaining. A couple first downs would have pretty much salted everything, if it wasn't already salted to begin with.
Which brings me to the mother of all questions here.
WAS the game salted away when the Vikings took over? If the Cowboys held them to a three-and-out, could they realistically have had a shot at tying the game---something which would have required THREE touchdowns and THREE two-point conversions? Oh, and at least two successful onside kicks?
Tony Romo is good, but he's not David Copperfield.
Yet I also see the Vikings' side. The game is meant to be played for 60 minutes. These are men on the field, not high schoolers or college students. Brooking is 34 years old. He ought to be able to take it.
Was the last touchdown necessary? Of course not. It occurred with less than two minutes remaining, on a 4th-and-three. The Vikes could have kicked the field goal and called it a game. In that scenario, I doubt you'd have heard much from Brooking, if anything at all.
So for four more points, there's a big issue here? Is 34-3 that much worse than 30-3?
Broach that question to Chris Spielman and see what you get from him in reply.
I suppose I should take sides here. What fun is it to skewer a writer who's fence-sitting?
OK, you want it, you got it: I'm in Spielman's camp.
The Vikings didn't need to score another touchdown, but the Cowboys needed a defensive stop in the worst way, and they couldn't get one. So what were the Vikings supposed to do? You could argue that they could have run more---which is also good clock management strategy. But they didn't, and the Cowboys couldn't stop them. Don't the defenders bear some of the responsibility, too?
Bottom line: these are men on the field. They ought to take a little butt-kicking from time-to-time.
And this is coming from a guy who has hated the Minnesota Vikings since being a youngster and growing up a Detroit Lions fan.
But I don't see all that much wrong with what they did yesterday. And I know Chris Spielman wouldn't, either. Of course, Spielman went to Ohio State, whose coach not only ran up the score on Michigan one year, he did it with venom.
Someone asked Woody Hayes why he'd gone for a two-point conversion, late in the Buckeyes' 50-14 win over Michigan in 1968.
"Why did I go for two? Because I couldn't go for THREE!" Woody snarled.
Now THAT'S running up the score, folks.
The Cowboys ought to take their butt-kicking back to Texas like men and exact revenge on the field, which is always the best place for that kind of stuff, anyway.
Spielman and the Lions were losing, 45-0, to the Washington Redskins in Week 1 of the 1991 season. And yes, it was as bad as the scored indicated. Maybe worse. But as bad as that butt-kicking was, it didn't compare, in Spielman's mind, to what happened toward the end of the game.
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*******************************************************************The 'Skins were driving again, and had the ball inside the Lions' 10-yard line. There were under two minutes to play. Then the humiliating part.
The Redskins took a knee. Then they took another knee, draining the clock of its remaining time. All while Spielman, the tough-as-nails middle linebacker from Massillon, Ohio, wished the Earth would open up and swallow him whole.
"When they [took the knee], I was embarrassed, humiliated. No one has ever taken pity on me or my teammates on the field before," Spielman said afterward in the quiet of the Lions' locker room.
The Redskins didn't want to run up a 45-0 score to 52-0, which to a casual observer would appear to be a good, proper thing. But not to Spielman, who competed every week as if his very life depended on it.
"If they score, they score," Spielman continued. "That's better than feeling sorry for me!"
Spielman comes to mind in the wake of the Minnesota Vikings' 34-3 win over the Dallas Cowboys yesterday in the Divisional Playoffs. Seems some of the Cowboys, notably veteran LB Keith Brooking and head coach Wade Phillips, have accused the Vikings of running up the score---aggressively driving for a touchdown in the final minutes, already leading 27-3 and with the Cowboys devoid of timeouts. Brooking screamed at Vikings coach Brad Childress, and later called the final touchdown "classless."
I can see both sides of the coin here. Like most disputes, the answer lies somewhere in the middle.
I think the beef the Cowboys have is with the Vikings' play selection, read: too many passes. The Vikings took the ball over at the Dallas 37. There was 5:26 remaining. A couple first downs would have pretty much salted everything, if it wasn't already salted to begin with.
Which brings me to the mother of all questions here.
WAS the game salted away when the Vikings took over? If the Cowboys held them to a three-and-out, could they realistically have had a shot at tying the game---something which would have required THREE touchdowns and THREE two-point conversions? Oh, and at least two successful onside kicks?
Tony Romo is good, but he's not David Copperfield.
Yet I also see the Vikings' side. The game is meant to be played for 60 minutes. These are men on the field, not high schoolers or college students. Brooking is 34 years old. He ought to be able to take it.
Was the last touchdown necessary? Of course not. It occurred with less than two minutes remaining, on a 4th-and-three. The Vikes could have kicked the field goal and called it a game. In that scenario, I doubt you'd have heard much from Brooking, if anything at all.
So for four more points, there's a big issue here? Is 34-3 that much worse than 30-3?
Broach that question to Chris Spielman and see what you get from him in reply.
I suppose I should take sides here. What fun is it to skewer a writer who's fence-sitting?
OK, you want it, you got it: I'm in Spielman's camp.
The Vikings didn't need to score another touchdown, but the Cowboys needed a defensive stop in the worst way, and they couldn't get one. So what were the Vikings supposed to do? You could argue that they could have run more---which is also good clock management strategy. But they didn't, and the Cowboys couldn't stop them. Don't the defenders bear some of the responsibility, too?
Bottom line: these are men on the field. They ought to take a little butt-kicking from time-to-time.
And this is coming from a guy who has hated the Minnesota Vikings since being a youngster and growing up a Detroit Lions fan.
But I don't see all that much wrong with what they did yesterday. And I know Chris Spielman wouldn't, either. Of course, Spielman went to Ohio State, whose coach not only ran up the score on Michigan one year, he did it with venom.
Someone asked Woody Hayes why he'd gone for a two-point conversion, late in the Buckeyes' 50-14 win over Michigan in 1968.
"Why did I go for two? Because I couldn't go for THREE!" Woody snarled.
Now THAT'S running up the score, folks.
The Cowboys ought to take their butt-kicking back to Texas like men and exact revenge on the field, which is always the best place for that kind of stuff, anyway.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Lions Pour More Losing Concrete in Minneapolis Stinker
The Lions proved once again that they have a losing foundation.
The mix that was poured to create it includes an impressive blend of poor blocking, miserable tackling, and obscene pass rush and coverage.
It's rock solid, this foundation, and the trouble is, their coach has been thwacking away at it with a hammer, when he really needs a medicine ball swinging from a chain.
On top of this foundation, the Lions play football and show us various ways every Sunday to come out on the losing side of things. It's really quite an art, like David Copperfield showing us how he can make different things disappear.
But below that surface is the foundation---the common denominator, if you will.
The Minnesota Vikings were the latest team to make mincemeat of the Lions---27-10 in the Metrdome on Sunday.
The foundation was rock solid as usual.
Impenetrable poor tackling of running back Adrian Peterson. Concrete-like strength of a non-existent pass rush. Waterproof, non-porous protection of an accordion-like offensive line.
The Lions could give the Mafia a run for their money with the concrete they pour every Sunday.
The Vikings padded their stats but not the scoreboard in the first half. It was 10-3, Minny, and the Lions were still hanging around, like the kid brother who won't let you spend time alone with your girlfriend.
The Vikings only scored ten points in the first 30 minutes despite raining long passes to Sidney Rice, who was as open as a 24-hour diner all afternoon, and despite Peterson running around, past, and through the Lions, who again showed why they're the football version of the Washington Generals.
Mack Sennett, God rest his soul, would love these Lions. So would have Groucho, Chico, and Harpo Marx. The Lions could have been perpetual co-stars. Margaret Dumont would have been out of work.
But the Vikings didn't do themselves any favors, either. They started shooting themselves in the cleats, with fumbles and penalties. So off they trudged at halftime, with a 10-3 lead and video game-like stats.
Peterson had rushed for 100 yards before the first beers were down, I think. Brett Favre would give him the ball and you could almost hear the Keystone Kops music and see everything turn to sepia and in fast motion.
But it was still just 10-3. Sennett would have put up a caption card in his silent short that said, "WTF?"
Ahh, but then Kevin Smith fumbled to open the second half, the Vikes pounced on it, and a couple of Peterson saunters later, the score was 17-3 Vikings and all was right in the world again.
Lions QB Matthew Stafford was harrassed by the Vikings' front four more than Sean Penn by photographers on a Hollywood sidewalk.
Stafford was denied one of the creature comforts of playing quarterback: time enough to look for a receiver. The result was a flurry of hurried throws, many of which came nowhere near their intended targets. It's hard to have accuracy when you can tell every d-lineman what he had for breakfast.
But a word about Kid Matthew.
On the occasions when he does have time to throw, why does he insist on forcing his receivers to make circus catches? The football is never delivered between the numbers; sometimes it's rarely delivered between the shoulder blades. It's like Stafford has sunk some dough into a highlight reel montage of diving, sprawling, mind-boggling catches.
Sometimes the Lions receivers oblige. Then again, sometimes Matthew gets the ball in the general area of the receivers' chest or hands and it doesn't matter, anyway. If the Lions don't lead the league in dropped passes, then I want a recount.
Favre beat the Lions again. He's spent about 13 percent of his career playing them---two out of 16 games every year---so I say we dock him and make only 87 percent of his numbers worthy.
The drumbeat of losing goes on for the Lions. They are 1-25 in their last 26 games. Jason Hanson is even missing field goals. Who do they think they are? The Italian Army? Wile E. Coyote? The Pittsburgh Pirates?
This isn't a football season anymore, it's a disaster management drill. Pretty soon they're gonna call in FEMA and give Martin Mayhew pointers.
The Lions play the Cleveland Browns next week. Frick and Frack, at Ford Field. Football theater of the absurd. If there's going to be any action on that one in Vegas, it'll be done by members of Gamblers Anonymous.
The game is likely to be blacked out in Detroit, which is a version of the mercy rule.
Vikings 27, Lions 10.
The End.
The mix that was poured to create it includes an impressive blend of poor blocking, miserable tackling, and obscene pass rush and coverage.
It's rock solid, this foundation, and the trouble is, their coach has been thwacking away at it with a hammer, when he really needs a medicine ball swinging from a chain.
On top of this foundation, the Lions play football and show us various ways every Sunday to come out on the losing side of things. It's really quite an art, like David Copperfield showing us how he can make different things disappear.
But below that surface is the foundation---the common denominator, if you will.
The Minnesota Vikings were the latest team to make mincemeat of the Lions---27-10 in the Metrdome on Sunday.
The foundation was rock solid as usual.
Impenetrable poor tackling of running back Adrian Peterson. Concrete-like strength of a non-existent pass rush. Waterproof, non-porous protection of an accordion-like offensive line.
The Lions could give the Mafia a run for their money with the concrete they pour every Sunday.
The Vikings padded their stats but not the scoreboard in the first half. It was 10-3, Minny, and the Lions were still hanging around, like the kid brother who won't let you spend time alone with your girlfriend.
The Vikings only scored ten points in the first 30 minutes despite raining long passes to Sidney Rice, who was as open as a 24-hour diner all afternoon, and despite Peterson running around, past, and through the Lions, who again showed why they're the football version of the Washington Generals.
Mack Sennett, God rest his soul, would love these Lions. So would have Groucho, Chico, and Harpo Marx. The Lions could have been perpetual co-stars. Margaret Dumont would have been out of work.
But the Vikings didn't do themselves any favors, either. They started shooting themselves in the cleats, with fumbles and penalties. So off they trudged at halftime, with a 10-3 lead and video game-like stats.
Peterson had rushed for 100 yards before the first beers were down, I think. Brett Favre would give him the ball and you could almost hear the Keystone Kops music and see everything turn to sepia and in fast motion.
But it was still just 10-3. Sennett would have put up a caption card in his silent short that said, "WTF?"
Ahh, but then Kevin Smith fumbled to open the second half, the Vikes pounced on it, and a couple of Peterson saunters later, the score was 17-3 Vikings and all was right in the world again.
Lions QB Matthew Stafford was harrassed by the Vikings' front four more than Sean Penn by photographers on a Hollywood sidewalk.
Stafford was denied one of the creature comforts of playing quarterback: time enough to look for a receiver. The result was a flurry of hurried throws, many of which came nowhere near their intended targets. It's hard to have accuracy when you can tell every d-lineman what he had for breakfast.
But a word about Kid Matthew.
On the occasions when he does have time to throw, why does he insist on forcing his receivers to make circus catches? The football is never delivered between the numbers; sometimes it's rarely delivered between the shoulder blades. It's like Stafford has sunk some dough into a highlight reel montage of diving, sprawling, mind-boggling catches.
Sometimes the Lions receivers oblige. Then again, sometimes Matthew gets the ball in the general area of the receivers' chest or hands and it doesn't matter, anyway. If the Lions don't lead the league in dropped passes, then I want a recount.
Favre beat the Lions again. He's spent about 13 percent of his career playing them---two out of 16 games every year---so I say we dock him and make only 87 percent of his numbers worthy.
The drumbeat of losing goes on for the Lions. They are 1-25 in their last 26 games. Jason Hanson is even missing field goals. Who do they think they are? The Italian Army? Wile E. Coyote? The Pittsburgh Pirates?
This isn't a football season anymore, it's a disaster management drill. Pretty soon they're gonna call in FEMA and give Martin Mayhew pointers.
The Lions play the Cleveland Browns next week. Frick and Frack, at Ford Field. Football theater of the absurd. If there's going to be any action on that one in Vegas, it'll be done by members of Gamblers Anonymous.
The game is likely to be blacked out in Detroit, which is a version of the mercy rule.
Vikings 27, Lions 10.
The End.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Favre Needs To Make Up His Mind, Once And For All
Brett Favre, the high-rolling risk-taker, the reckless gunslinger, has been brought to his knees, apparently.
Favre ran away from would-be sackers, rifled passes into the thick of secondaries with defiance, and was as durable as titanium.
But now a simple question is his Kryptonite.
To play, or not to play?
Favre won't tell.
He has the Minnesota Vikings on the edges of their seats, waiting for the future Hall of Famer to decide whether he wants to, once again, eschew retirement for another autumn playing football.
Training camps are starting all over the NFL this week. Some have already begun. And still Favre isn't sure.
To play, or not to play?
He's been pulling this stuff for several years now, Brett Favre has.
Another football season ends, and Favre starts talking retirement. He winces and sobs and tells us that it looks bad for another year in uniform.
He yearns to spend more time with his family---that age-old reason for hanging 'em up for good.
He almost fooled the Green Bay Packers a couple times with this act, before the Pack got wise and cut Favre loose, tired of the posturing. Besides, it was time to see what Aaron Rodgers could do already.
Favre put in a year with the New York Jets, amidst talk that he wasn't exactly the most accessible teammate the Jets have ever had. Or the most reliable.
Then the Vikings got into the mix after Favre did his annual chin-rubbing and head-scratching.
Twisting in the wind is young Tarvaris Jackson, the Man Who Would Be Quarterback, should Favre turn the Vikings down.
Meanwhile, Favre continues the transformation of his legacy, from one of the game's top signal-callers to one of its most aggravating.
To play, or not to play?
No one said this should be an easy decision. But Favre has had over seven months to make it, and still he hasn't come to a 1-0 vote either way.
He's sitting at 0-0-1, while Jackson and the Vikings wait to see which way they'll proceed as a team.
Easy for me to say, but if I were the Vikes, I'd have told Brett Favre weeks ago one thing, and one thing only.
"We're going to give you a deadline, Brett. If you haven't made a decision by (insert date), then we're moving on. No hard feelings, but this is a business and we have better things to do with our time."
It would be even gutsier, but I'd love to see the Vikings turn Favre down at this point, should his decision be, "I want to play."
Too late!
None of the other quarterbacks enshrined in Canton ever made such an excruciating exit from football.
Even Johnny Unitas, who spent one awful year plus a few days of the following year's training camp as a San Diego Charger before calling it quits, never came close to what Favre has been doing to first the Packers and now the Vikings.
Joe Montana played a couple seasons for the Kansas City Chiefs and then retired with little hesitation.
Many of them even announce before the season that "This is it, guys!" and when the final gun goes off, they peel the uniform off and ride into the sunset.
But Favre is making like a pro boxer, bobbing in and out of retirement, keeping himself in the news all year round.
To play, or not to play?
Ahh, that is the question.
So answer it already!!
Favre ran away from would-be sackers, rifled passes into the thick of secondaries with defiance, and was as durable as titanium.
But now a simple question is his Kryptonite.
To play, or not to play?
Favre won't tell.
He has the Minnesota Vikings on the edges of their seats, waiting for the future Hall of Famer to decide whether he wants to, once again, eschew retirement for another autumn playing football.
Training camps are starting all over the NFL this week. Some have already begun. And still Favre isn't sure.
To play, or not to play?
He's been pulling this stuff for several years now, Brett Favre has.
Another football season ends, and Favre starts talking retirement. He winces and sobs and tells us that it looks bad for another year in uniform.
He yearns to spend more time with his family---that age-old reason for hanging 'em up for good.
He almost fooled the Green Bay Packers a couple times with this act, before the Pack got wise and cut Favre loose, tired of the posturing. Besides, it was time to see what Aaron Rodgers could do already.
Favre put in a year with the New York Jets, amidst talk that he wasn't exactly the most accessible teammate the Jets have ever had. Or the most reliable.
Then the Vikings got into the mix after Favre did his annual chin-rubbing and head-scratching.
Twisting in the wind is young Tarvaris Jackson, the Man Who Would Be Quarterback, should Favre turn the Vikings down.
Meanwhile, Favre continues the transformation of his legacy, from one of the game's top signal-callers to one of its most aggravating.
To play, or not to play?
No one said this should be an easy decision. But Favre has had over seven months to make it, and still he hasn't come to a 1-0 vote either way.
He's sitting at 0-0-1, while Jackson and the Vikings wait to see which way they'll proceed as a team.
Easy for me to say, but if I were the Vikes, I'd have told Brett Favre weeks ago one thing, and one thing only.
"We're going to give you a deadline, Brett. If you haven't made a decision by (insert date), then we're moving on. No hard feelings, but this is a business and we have better things to do with our time."
It would be even gutsier, but I'd love to see the Vikings turn Favre down at this point, should his decision be, "I want to play."
Too late!
None of the other quarterbacks enshrined in Canton ever made such an excruciating exit from football.
Even Johnny Unitas, who spent one awful year plus a few days of the following year's training camp as a San Diego Charger before calling it quits, never came close to what Favre has been doing to first the Packers and now the Vikings.
Joe Montana played a couple seasons for the Kansas City Chiefs and then retired with little hesitation.
Many of them even announce before the season that "This is it, guys!" and when the final gun goes off, they peel the uniform off and ride into the sunset.
But Favre is making like a pro boxer, bobbing in and out of retirement, keeping himself in the news all year round.
To play, or not to play?
Ahh, that is the question.
So answer it already!!
Friday, December 05, 2008
AC Was Elusive, And In More Ways Than One
(every Friday during the NFL season, OOB will run a nostalgic feature about the Lions' upcoming opponents)
My disdain for the Minnesota Vikings is well-documented, if you've read this blog for any length of time. Don't believe me? Just click on the little search box in the upper lefthand corner and type in "Minnesota Vikings" and see what turns up here.
But few things rankled me more about the Vikings than seeing #81 running around the football field, catching passes and returning punts and wreaking general havoc.
Anthony Carter, AC from Michigan. The original #1 in Maize and Blue -- the one who started the tradition of the top-flight receiver wearing jersey no. 1 in Ann Arbor.
How Carter became a Viking is typical, when it comes to the Vikes sticking it to the Lions.
Carter, as you know, terrorized the Big Ten from 1979-82 as a Wolverine. Then he made some more football hay locally when he starred for the USFL's Michigan Panthers in 1983-84. The USFL had a territorial draft, and so it was a simple matter for AC to stay in the state and play for the Panthers.
Then the USFL went out of business.
The Miami Dolphins had Carter's rights, having drafted him in 1983. Why the Lions didn't do so is a mystery unto itself (Carter wasn't drafted until the 12th round, which means the Lions passed on him at least 11 times; even if they figured he was going to the USFL, why not take a flyer on him anyway?). But by 1985, when the USFL was bankrupt, the Dolphins already had Mark Duper and Mark Clayton for Dan Marino, so they traded Carter to ... the Minnesota Vikings!
Sickening, I know.
I don't have the heart to post a photo of Carter in a Vikings uniform
So not only did the Lions miss out on Carter in his prime, they got to see him twice a season, playing for the intra-divisional Vikings, and usually he was helping to beat Detroit. He was so close, yet so far.
Then, almost as a cruel joke, Carter ended up with the Lions, finally -- but as a 34-year-old with his best days behind him. He hurt his collarbone early in the 1994 season and hardly played. He came back in 1995 and was an afterthought on a team that had Herman Moore, Brett Perriman, and Johnnie Morton. So that was AC as a Lion. Eight receptions for 97 yards and three touchdowns. Almost like salt in a wound.
I don't know what the Vikings gave up to finagle Carter from the Dolphins, but whatever it was, it was worth it. Carter caught 478 passes for well over 7,000 yards in nine years in Minnesota, for 52 touchdowns. He made three Pro Bowls (1987, '88, and '89). He eventually combined with Cris Carter to form quite a receiver tandem for the Vikes from 1991 thru 1993.
Yet another reason for me to hate the Vikings -- though in this case, the Lions screwed themselves, really. I know, no shock there.
My disdain for the Minnesota Vikings is well-documented, if you've read this blog for any length of time. Don't believe me? Just click on the little search box in the upper lefthand corner and type in "Minnesota Vikings" and see what turns up here.
But few things rankled me more about the Vikings than seeing #81 running around the football field, catching passes and returning punts and wreaking general havoc.
Anthony Carter, AC from Michigan. The original #1 in Maize and Blue -- the one who started the tradition of the top-flight receiver wearing jersey no. 1 in Ann Arbor.
How Carter became a Viking is typical, when it comes to the Vikes sticking it to the Lions.
Carter, as you know, terrorized the Big Ten from 1979-82 as a Wolverine. Then he made some more football hay locally when he starred for the USFL's Michigan Panthers in 1983-84. The USFL had a territorial draft, and so it was a simple matter for AC to stay in the state and play for the Panthers.
Then the USFL went out of business.
The Miami Dolphins had Carter's rights, having drafted him in 1983. Why the Lions didn't do so is a mystery unto itself (Carter wasn't drafted until the 12th round, which means the Lions passed on him at least 11 times; even if they figured he was going to the USFL, why not take a flyer on him anyway?). But by 1985, when the USFL was bankrupt, the Dolphins already had Mark Duper and Mark Clayton for Dan Marino, so they traded Carter to ... the Minnesota Vikings!
Sickening, I know.
I don't have the heart to post a photo of Carter in a Vikings uniform
So not only did the Lions miss out on Carter in his prime, they got to see him twice a season, playing for the intra-divisional Vikings, and usually he was helping to beat Detroit. He was so close, yet so far.
Then, almost as a cruel joke, Carter ended up with the Lions, finally -- but as a 34-year-old with his best days behind him. He hurt his collarbone early in the 1994 season and hardly played. He came back in 1995 and was an afterthought on a team that had Herman Moore, Brett Perriman, and Johnnie Morton. So that was AC as a Lion. Eight receptions for 97 yards and three touchdowns. Almost like salt in a wound.
I don't know what the Vikings gave up to finagle Carter from the Dolphins, but whatever it was, it was worth it. Carter caught 478 passes for well over 7,000 yards in nine years in Minnesota, for 52 touchdowns. He made three Pro Bowls (1987, '88, and '89). He eventually combined with Cris Carter to form quite a receiver tandem for the Vikes from 1991 thru 1993.
Yet another reason for me to hate the Vikings -- though in this case, the Lions screwed themselves, really. I know, no shock there.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Vikes' Prayer In 1980 Yet Another Example Of Their Luck Against Lions
(every Friday during the NFL season, OOB will run a nostalgic feature about the Lions' upcoming opponents)
After 28 years, I'm still not sure who I'm more angry at: the Cleveland Browns, or Ahmad Rashad.
It's been well-documented here, my hatred for the Minnesota Vikings. It began in the early-1970s, when the Vikes would routinely finish first, the Lions second, and a lot of that was because the Vikings beat them like a drum. From 1968-'74, the Vikings beat the Lions 13 straight times, and some of those games were of the fluky variety. The other frustrating thing was that the Lions actually fielded some pretty respectable teams in those days, yet the Vikings beat them anyway.
The Vikes are off on another "beat Detroit" streak (15 of 17, plus 10 straight at home), but this one isn't as impressive, or as maddening, because: a) EVERYONE has been on a "beat Detroit" streak lately, and b) the Vikings haven't really won anything lately, either.
I could recount more than a few weird Lions-Vikings games. There was the one in '76 at the Silverdome. I listened to that one on the radio. The Lions were down 10-3 in the waning moments of the fourth quarter. But they were driving for the tying touchdown. The drive seemed like it lasted forever when you're looking at a radio dial. Then, the Lions finally scored their touchdown, well past the two-minute warning. I could hear the Silverdome crowd go wild.
All the Lions needed to do was kick the extra point, and there'd be overtime.
Well, the Vikings blocked the XP. They were good at blocking Lions kicks. They did it to the Lions in Minnesota a few years earlier, thwarting a potential game-winning FG by Errol Mann.
That's the way the Vikings would beat the Lions, and other teams: blocked kicks; fumble recoveries; interceptions; and just dumb luck.
In 1980, it got so ridiculous that the Vikings beat the Lions -- without even playing them.
It was the "Another One Bites The Dust" year for the Lions -- when they got off to a 4-0 start and some of them, full of themselves and giddy, recorded the bastardized version of Queen's song.
But 4-0 quickly turned to 7-7. Then the Lions won their final two games to finish 9-7. The Central Division was lousy that year; their only real challengers were the Vikings, naturally.
The Vikings were 8-6 after 14 games. But their last two games were against Cleveland, at home, and at Houston -- two tough contests. The Lions knew that if they finished 9-7, there'd be a good chance that the Vikings would finish 8-8, giving the Lions the divisional title. The Lions did their part. But the Vikings had some more of that luck of the devil that they were so famous for.
The Browns led them, 23-21. The Vikings had the ball, but they were too far away for a field goal try. There was only one hope: the Hail Mary.
Perhaps you've seen the play. And perhaps you weren't aware of its significance to the Lions until now. QB Tommy Kramer heaved the ball, some 50 yards from the goal line. Several Vikings and Browns ran beneath it. The ball came down and was tipped back into the air -- but not very high. Yet just high enough to fall into the lucky arms of WR Ahmad Rashad, who was kind of backpedaling into the end zone when he caught the prayer.
Vikings win, 28-23, to go to 9-6. That win effectively killed the Lions' chances, because even though the Vikes lost to the Oilers, their 9-7 record was better than the Lions' 9-7, due to a tiebreaker: the Vikes were 8-4 in the NFC, the Lions were 9-5. The Vikings got into the playoffs by percentage points because of a stupid tiebreaker. Typical.
The Browns didn't care; they were having an 11-5 season, and the loss to Minnesota didn't affect them in the least.
The only consolation is that the Vikings got their asses kicked by the Eagles in the playoffs, 31-16.
Oh, and did I mention that Billy Sims suffered his career-ending knee injury in Minnesota?
I'll always hate the Vikings. Always.
After 28 years, I'm still not sure who I'm more angry at: the Cleveland Browns, or Ahmad Rashad.
It's been well-documented here, my hatred for the Minnesota Vikings. It began in the early-1970s, when the Vikes would routinely finish first, the Lions second, and a lot of that was because the Vikings beat them like a drum. From 1968-'74, the Vikings beat the Lions 13 straight times, and some of those games were of the fluky variety. The other frustrating thing was that the Lions actually fielded some pretty respectable teams in those days, yet the Vikings beat them anyway.
The Vikes are off on another "beat Detroit" streak (15 of 17, plus 10 straight at home), but this one isn't as impressive, or as maddening, because: a) EVERYONE has been on a "beat Detroit" streak lately, and b) the Vikings haven't really won anything lately, either.
I could recount more than a few weird Lions-Vikings games. There was the one in '76 at the Silverdome. I listened to that one on the radio. The Lions were down 10-3 in the waning moments of the fourth quarter. But they were driving for the tying touchdown. The drive seemed like it lasted forever when you're looking at a radio dial. Then, the Lions finally scored their touchdown, well past the two-minute warning. I could hear the Silverdome crowd go wild.
All the Lions needed to do was kick the extra point, and there'd be overtime.
Well, the Vikings blocked the XP. They were good at blocking Lions kicks. They did it to the Lions in Minnesota a few years earlier, thwarting a potential game-winning FG by Errol Mann.
That's the way the Vikings would beat the Lions, and other teams: blocked kicks; fumble recoveries; interceptions; and just dumb luck.
In 1980, it got so ridiculous that the Vikings beat the Lions -- without even playing them.
It was the "Another One Bites The Dust" year for the Lions -- when they got off to a 4-0 start and some of them, full of themselves and giddy, recorded the bastardized version of Queen's song.
But 4-0 quickly turned to 7-7. Then the Lions won their final two games to finish 9-7. The Central Division was lousy that year; their only real challengers were the Vikings, naturally.
The Vikings were 8-6 after 14 games. But their last two games were against Cleveland, at home, and at Houston -- two tough contests. The Lions knew that if they finished 9-7, there'd be a good chance that the Vikings would finish 8-8, giving the Lions the divisional title. The Lions did their part. But the Vikings had some more of that luck of the devil that they were so famous for.
The Browns led them, 23-21. The Vikings had the ball, but they were too far away for a field goal try. There was only one hope: the Hail Mary.
Perhaps you've seen the play. And perhaps you weren't aware of its significance to the Lions until now. QB Tommy Kramer heaved the ball, some 50 yards from the goal line. Several Vikings and Browns ran beneath it. The ball came down and was tipped back into the air -- but not very high. Yet just high enough to fall into the lucky arms of WR Ahmad Rashad, who was kind of backpedaling into the end zone when he caught the prayer.
Vikings win, 28-23, to go to 9-6. That win effectively killed the Lions' chances, because even though the Vikes lost to the Oilers, their 9-7 record was better than the Lions' 9-7, due to a tiebreaker: the Vikes were 8-4 in the NFC, the Lions were 9-5. The Vikings got into the playoffs by percentage points because of a stupid tiebreaker. Typical.
The Browns didn't care; they were having an 11-5 season, and the loss to Minnesota didn't affect them in the least.
The only consolation is that the Vikings got their asses kicked by the Eagles in the playoffs, 31-16.
Oh, and did I mention that Billy Sims suffered his career-ending knee injury in Minnesota?
I'll always hate the Vikings. Always.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Despite Hordes Of Losses In Minnesota, Three Wins Stand Out
The Lions haven't celebrated too many glorious Sundays in the great white north of Minnesota in the past several decades, but there've been a few that stick out in my memory.
Perhaps the most memorable was a win in 1974.
The Lions, when they invaded the old Metropolitan Stadium in October '74, hadn't beaten the Vikings since December, 1967. That was 13 straight losses to the Purple People Eaters, who will always be my most hated team in all of sports. And, the Lions were 1-4, which didn't inspire much confidence. Part of the early-season strife could be blamed on the death of head coach Don McCafferty, who died of a heart attack during training camp, while cutting his lawn at home. McCafferty's death thrust assistant Rick Forzano into the top spot. Forzano was a former college coach who'd never been a head coach at the pro level. The latter distinction had never stopped the Lions, of course, from hiring such folks, but McCafferty's untimely passing was an excusable reason for giving the untested Forzano the job.
The Lions managed to nudge ahead of the powerful 5-0 Vikings, 20-16, as the fourth quarter clock wound down. But Minnesota was on the move. It looked like they would, once again, steal a win from the Lions, who during the 0-13 streak had the Vikes on the ropes many times, only to have something weird happen to them.
The Vikings drove down the field, led by Fran Tarkenton. But being down by four, they needed a touchdown. They neared the Lions' 20-yard line.
Tarkenton scrambled and fired a pass in the end zone. There was a collision, and the ball popped gently into the air. But instead of being snagged by a Vikings receiver (which wouldn't have been surprising), the football was cradled by DB Lem Barney. His secondary mates crowded around Barney and forced him to down the ball in the end zone, ensuring the Lions victory. The 0-13 streak was over -- and with the 1-4 Lions beating the 5-0 Vikings!
Barney, who hadn't beaten the Vikings since his rookie season in 1967, before sealing 1974's win in Minnesota with a pick in the end zone
It was so ironic, because many much better Lions teams had outplayed the Vikings in the past yet lost.
Another win in Minnesota that sticks out was in 1991, the Sunday before Thanksgiving. This was the 12-4, Mike Utley year. It wasn't so much the win that stands out as the move that Barry Sanders made on safety Joey Browner that I swore could have blown out both of Browner's knees.
Sanders got into the open field and juked Browner -- who was a pretty darn good player -- so badly that he, at once, both froze Browner and rattled the safety's knees. He reduced a Pro Bowl player to nothing more than an orange construction zone cone. Of course, Sanders also made other great players look silly in similar scenarios, such as Rod Woodson (who really did blow out a knee against Sanders) and John Lynch.
Then there was a 1993 win, in which the Lions trailed 27-23 in the waning seconds on Sunday Night Football. But Rodney Peete drove the Lions downfield and, facing a fourth-and-goal, threw in the direction of Brett Perriman in the end zone. There was contact, but it would have been unsurprising if the officials called nothing, especially on such a crucial play. Yet here comes the flag, to the howls of the Metrodome crowd. Now with first-and-goal at the one, the Lions scored, and stole a 30-27 win just before the final gun.
"Couldn't have happened to a better team," I said of the Vikings.
Sunday, the Lions return to another of their houses of horrors. They need a win in the worst way, and they could have picked a better place to seek it than the awful Metrodome. Strange things happen to them in the state of Minnesota. Always have.
Perhaps the most memorable was a win in 1974.
The Lions, when they invaded the old Metropolitan Stadium in October '74, hadn't beaten the Vikings since December, 1967. That was 13 straight losses to the Purple People Eaters, who will always be my most hated team in all of sports. And, the Lions were 1-4, which didn't inspire much confidence. Part of the early-season strife could be blamed on the death of head coach Don McCafferty, who died of a heart attack during training camp, while cutting his lawn at home. McCafferty's death thrust assistant Rick Forzano into the top spot. Forzano was a former college coach who'd never been a head coach at the pro level. The latter distinction had never stopped the Lions, of course, from hiring such folks, but McCafferty's untimely passing was an excusable reason for giving the untested Forzano the job.
The Lions managed to nudge ahead of the powerful 5-0 Vikings, 20-16, as the fourth quarter clock wound down. But Minnesota was on the move. It looked like they would, once again, steal a win from the Lions, who during the 0-13 streak had the Vikes on the ropes many times, only to have something weird happen to them.
The Vikings drove down the field, led by Fran Tarkenton. But being down by four, they needed a touchdown. They neared the Lions' 20-yard line.
Tarkenton scrambled and fired a pass in the end zone. There was a collision, and the ball popped gently into the air. But instead of being snagged by a Vikings receiver (which wouldn't have been surprising), the football was cradled by DB Lem Barney. His secondary mates crowded around Barney and forced him to down the ball in the end zone, ensuring the Lions victory. The 0-13 streak was over -- and with the 1-4 Lions beating the 5-0 Vikings!
Barney, who hadn't beaten the Vikings since his rookie season in 1967, before sealing 1974's win in Minnesota with a pick in the end zone
It was so ironic, because many much better Lions teams had outplayed the Vikings in the past yet lost.
Another win in Minnesota that sticks out was in 1991, the Sunday before Thanksgiving. This was the 12-4, Mike Utley year. It wasn't so much the win that stands out as the move that Barry Sanders made on safety Joey Browner that I swore could have blown out both of Browner's knees.
Sanders got into the open field and juked Browner -- who was a pretty darn good player -- so badly that he, at once, both froze Browner and rattled the safety's knees. He reduced a Pro Bowl player to nothing more than an orange construction zone cone. Of course, Sanders also made other great players look silly in similar scenarios, such as Rod Woodson (who really did blow out a knee against Sanders) and John Lynch.
Then there was a 1993 win, in which the Lions trailed 27-23 in the waning seconds on Sunday Night Football. But Rodney Peete drove the Lions downfield and, facing a fourth-and-goal, threw in the direction of Brett Perriman in the end zone. There was contact, but it would have been unsurprising if the officials called nothing, especially on such a crucial play. Yet here comes the flag, to the howls of the Metrodome crowd. Now with first-and-goal at the one, the Lions scored, and stole a 30-27 win just before the final gun.
"Couldn't have happened to a better team," I said of the Vikings.
Sunday, the Lions return to another of their houses of horrors. They need a win in the worst way, and they could have picked a better place to seek it than the awful Metrodome. Strange things happen to them in the state of Minnesota. Always have.
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