Parcells To Detroit Might Not Be A Pipe Dream After All

Was talking to Muneesh Jain, publisher of Motor City Sports Magazine, last night about the Lions' latest coaching search, and we bantied about some candidates. The talk turned to Kansas City Chiefs offensive coordinator Al Saunders. There are reports that Saunders is soon to be interviewed. But Muneesh stuck a big old caveat emptor into our discussion.

"Saunders makes me nervous, because I heard Matt Millen likes him," Munie said.

The dig there, of course, is that anyone Millen likes, we better not. It's hard to argue. Millen is 0-for-2 in his coaching searches, both of which were first-swing popouts that didn't get out of the infield.

Matt says he has learned this time -- lessons are never learned easily or cheaply in the NFL -- and that he will take his sweet time picking the next sacrificial lamb to lead his football team.

But there is one man that Millen likes -- everybody likes -- that should not cause us to run scampering in the other direction, screaming like banshees: Bill Parcells.

It may be a bunch of hogwash, but the idea of Parcells chucking it in Dallas is growing legs, and Detroit keeps getting mentioned as a possible destination. Millen and Parcells are old buddies, apparently, and Parcells has publicly voiced his respect and admiration for Lions owner Bill Ford.


Is Parcells eyeing Motown?


Yes, Parcells is still under contract to the Dallas Cowboys -- one year is left on a four-year deal -- but the written word has never meant all that much in the world of sports. As former Pistons coach Butch van Breda Kolff once said of contracts, "Hell, you can always quit. And they can fire you if they want."

Speaking of the contract, that's sort of the crux of the Parcells-to-Detroit rumors. There is an extension to that contract on the table from Cowboys owner Jerry Jones, and The Tuna hasn't signed it yet. The fact that he hasn't done so is causing football folks around the country -- okay, maybe just in Dallas and Detroit so far, and some writer types at FoxSports.com -- to speculate that Parcells is mulling over wiggling out of the written word in Dallas so that he may bail out his friend Millen in Detroit. Big D to Little D.

There is even further speculation that if Parcells comes to Detroit, he will take quarterback Drew Bledsoe with him. That may not be a bad package deal for the Lions, if the price was right.

I at first dismssed talk of Parcells as the next Lions coach as mere hopeful blather of Lions fans who will latch onto just about anything to inject hope into their football team. They are like barnacles that way. I thought Parcells' health was a concern and his desire to coach might be waning. Turns out neither of those things are true, according to those lovely "close sources" to the coach.

Bill Parcells is, frankly, exactly the kind of coach the Lions need right now. He isn't necessarily the offensive innovator that I would like, but he is also smart enough to bring those types along with him. He is the master of getting the most out of his players and turning organizations around and pointing them in the proper direction. He is no-nonsense and has a glittering resume. His name is the first off people's tongues around here when they are queried, "What kind of coach do the Lions need?"

Forget Mike Singletary. Forget Jim Haslett. Both of these men are reportedly destined to arrive any day now for interviews. Go ahead and talk to them, but neither fits the bill -- Parcells or no Parcells. I'll say it once again: the new coach better make this football team exciting again and not be afraid to stretch defenses with something called the forward pass. You remember those, don't you? They're the ones that travel further than five yards in the air.

But the new coach must also possess the toughness and demand for accountability that has never truly been here under Bill Ford's ownership. For too long the Lions have been coached by "player's coaches", i.e. Wayne Fontes and Steve Mariucci types.

Matt Millen says he wants the new coach to reflect the city of Detroit, which he calls "tough" and "straightforward" and that "knows its football."

You could do far worse than Bill Parcells, if that's how you choose to define the next coach.

Just Another Manic, Black Monday -- Especially If Your Name Was Mike

It was a bad day to be an NFL head coach named Mike yesterday.

No less than three Mikes got the ziggy -- that Detroit-born word for "fired" -- from their respective teams: Sherman at Green Bay, Tice at Minnesota, and Martz at St. Louis.

Listening to the press conferences announcing these cannings, I had to chuckle. First of all, every one of the men wielding the axe said the same thing: "We decided to go in a different direction." In typical "Black Monday" fashion -- the day after the final regular season game that traditionally rains ziggies on NFL coaches -- coaches were being offed at breakneck speed, which meant GM’s and owners were going in so many "different directions" that it was amazing they didn’t bang into each other.

Second, it amuses me how Black Monday, in a paradoxical way, seems to bring out the most flowery of words from those rendering the ziggy to those who are on the receiving end. If you listened to these grim reapers talk, not knowing what the situation is, you’d think they were delivering a testimonial for their victims.

"I can’t say enough about the job he did for us."

"He is a great guy and a good football coach."

"This has nothing to do with the kind of football coach he is."

And then, of course, "We just decided to go in a different direction." So despite the kind words, the ziggy still got rendered.

Perhaps the words which rang most true were these, spoken by one of the hatchet men -- I’m not sure who it was: "This is not a fair business." No, it must not be, if despite how great a guy or wonderful a football coach he is, the pink slip awaits nonetheless. But yet it’s what the Mikes and the others who got the ziggy -- Jim Haslett of the Saints and Dom Capers of the Texans, with others soon to follow -- signed up for when they became head coaches. As former Pistons coach Earl Lloyd once said, "This is a funny job. When you sign on as coach, you are signing your own walking papers." Lloyd, of course, got the ziggy himself eventually, after having replaced Butch van Breda Kolff, who committed a self-ziggy -- quitting early in the 1971-72 season. Lloyd’s words are about as true as they get, as well.

The one good thing about Black Monday is it means none of its victims have to twist in the wind, wondering about their fate. Lions president Matt Millen, who hasn’t shown himself to be much of a coach hirer, also proved to be a bad firer, with the way he treated Marty Mornhinweg. After Marty went 3-13 in 2002, for a two-year record of 5-27, Millen announced on New Year’s Eve that Mornhinweg would return for the 2003 season, after several wind-twisting days. But then Steve Mariucci got the ziggy in San Francisco a couple weeks later, and Marty was back on the hook, twisting as speculation ran rampant that Mooch would be headed to Detroit. Millen gave Marty the ziggy after all -- something better coming along, in his mind: Mariucci. Quite frankly, it was a poor way to treat someone, regardless of what one might think of Marty Mornhinweg’s coaching talents. Millen, it is thought, is probably going to deliver another ziggy soon -- replacing interim head coach Dick Jauron. "Interim" just means that you are a ziggy waiting to happen. So let's see how Matt handles the transfer of coaching power this time.

The Vikings, though, took the "I don’t want you to twist in the wind" theory to another level. Owner Zygi (I’m not making that up) Wilf waited about one hour after the Vikes’ 34-10 rout of the Chicago Bears to deliver his first name to Mike Tice. It was hasty and sloppy; Tice said his wife heard of the firing on the radio. One wonders how that cashiering went.

"Coach, great game. Nice win."

"Thanks."

"Clean out your desk."

Such is life in the NFL, which Jerry Glanville once told an official stands for Not For Long. He was, of course, referring to making bad calls on the field. But it is also an appropriate way to describe the window of a head coach -- specifically, how long it remains open.

MONDAY'S FEATURES: Quote of the Week, Obscure Factoid

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

Tim McCarver


"Bob Gibson is the luckiest guy in the world. He always pitches on the days when the other team doesn't score any runs."

--Former Cardinals catcher Tim McCarver, offering a supreme compliment to his future Hall of Fame teammate.


OBSCURE FACTOID

In the last game of the 1969-70 NHL season, the Red Wings lost to the New York Rangers 9-5, but actually scored two empty net goals in the loss. Why? Tiebreaker rules dictated that the Rangers would qualify for the playoffs based on goal differential, so even though they were winning handily, they pulled the goalie with several minutes left in order to score as many goals as possible.

Press Conferences Often The Last Places To Get Decent Information

The young hockey player stood awkwardly in front of the garishly bright lights. He gazed out among the throngs of folks who would hang on his every word, if only he would speak, and if only they would ask him a question that was worth him answering. Ink-stained wretches, and TV people like me, shared the large room with the man-child with all the comfort of two strangers stuck in an elevator together.

The hockey player, then-teenager Eric Lindros, was in Detroit as a member of the OHL's Oshawa Generals, his team in town to play the Detroit Junior Red Wings. He was, at the time -- 1991 -- considered the hottest NHL prospect to come down the pike in years, since a fellow by the name of Gretzky, it was said. So it was declared that he would be the focus of a press conference, although I'm not sure what the reasoning was. And judging by the look on Lindros' face, I don't think he was all that clued in, either.

But down to Joe Louis Arena we trudged, a herd of media cattle, tape recorders and cameras and notepads at the ready, wondering just what sort of enlightenment a teenaged hockey player would be providing us. Not much, as it turned out. The p.r. flacks announced the press conference was now beginning, Lindros stood at the podium, and all that was missing was a director to yell "Action!"

The silence was deafening.

After several seconds of....nothing, I asked the first question. It was known that Eric Lindros had an affinity for the Red Wings and the Toronto Maple Leafs. It was also known that neither team had a prayer of drafting him, barring a trade. Still, I asked anyway.

"Would you like to play here more often?," I said, coyly referring to his supposed desire to perhaps wear a Red Wings sweater one day.

Lindros looked right at me and said, "Sure....that would be great, to be a Red Wing."

Then more silence.

It wasn't the greatest of press conferences.


Eric Lindros


But that's also typical. If you want to find juicy tidbits of information about the subject of a press conference, then don't bother attending the press conference. You'll have the same amount of success if you simply read the release they hand out and call it a day.

Press conferences, at least when it comes to the world of sports, are to journalism what saltine crackers are to haute cuisine. They are dry and mostly tasteless. A big part of this blandness can be blamed on those of us who attend these choreographed affairs. For some reason, media types check their creativity and cahoonas at the door and put on their interrogative dunce caps. Because the questions that they ask have all the zing of mayonnaise and the toughness of Wonder bread.

Journalism 101 teaches you, or so I thought, not to ask questions that can be answered with a simple "yes" or "no", unless the situation requires it. Yet that's mainly what is asked, even by the supposedly cream of the media crop. Or if not "yes" or "no," the questions are the usual, formulaic queries that almost ensure no light will be shed on the subject matter.


********************************
...nowadays, folks are having press conferences at the drop of a hat.
****************************

When the Tigers hired Randy Smith as general manager after the 1995 season, we were trumpeted to an annex near Tiger Stadium to hear the new GM spout his theories of acquiring baseball talent and what changes are necessary when the players cannot throw straight or run the bases or hit their weight. The functionaries handed out a prewritten press release to us, prior to Smith's appearance. Then Smith arrived, tanned and not much past 30 years of age. All of the answers to the routine questions could be found in the press release. Apparently satisfied with those, the media in attendance didn't stray from formula at all. It was turning out to be another of those dud press conferences. Finally, I asked Smith, whose first task was to find a manager to replace Sparky Anderson, "Does the next manager have to have major league managing experience?" I didn't see that answer anywhere in the prewritten release.

Smith blinked through the lights and at the same time looked like a deer caught in them. He fumbled through an answer, unmemorable in its verbage. Apparently he wasn't very good at going off of script, either.

Some coaches have a blast with the press. The late John McKay, the first coach in the history of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, had some dandies. "I won't be serious with them (the press)," McKay once said. "This is their job and they want to be serious, but I won't be serious with them, because some of the questions they ask me are...asinine."

Once, after another miserable loss, a reporter asked McKay what he thought of his team's execution.

"I'm all for it," McKay replied dryly.


The late, great John McKay


Of course nowadays, folks are having press conferences at the drop of a hat. It used to be that a press conference meant some sort of huge announcement, sometimes unexpected, and always with the fun of speculation attached to it. Jerry Green wrote, in his book "The Detroit Pistons: Capturing A Remarkable Era," that he and his colleagues were bugled to the Silverdome on a dreary November afternoon in 1979. As he and his fellow reporters walked into the dome, Pistons owner Bill Davidson's private helicopter was quite visible in the parking lot.

"None of us could miss seeing it," Green wrote.

Inside the Silverdome, as the press types were arriving, Davidson was giving coach Dick Vitale the ziggy, that ancient Detroit word for a coach getting fired. Today, the firing would be leaked, probably all over the Internet, and the shock value of the press conference would plummet, dissolving into an anticlimactic announcement with the usual boring sound bites.

Today, you have clods like Terrell Owens holding "press conferences" in his driveway, as he works out on some sort of exercise machine, reporters surrounding him as if he were to have something truly important to say. That's not a press conference -- that's a photo opportunity. And everyone knows pictures tell thousands of words, so why bother with the tape recorders at those affairs?

Eric Lindros, as we all know, went on to become a pretty decent NHL player. It is presumed he got better at answering questions from the media. What isn't so certain is whether those asking the questions have improved at all.

My Wish For 2006: Get The Broom Out In Allen Park

My friend Ian Casselberry, over at www.sweatymen.blogspot.com, recently wrote that if the Lions were to bring Dick Jauron back as head coach, he would finally sever his ties with the team and never again be a member of its fandom.

Ian, ya got it all wrong, buddy.

This is a new year, right? Time for those resolutions, and promises to one’s self to improve and be kinder to others and reduce the waistline and all that rot. But what Ian and others should know is that this time of the year can be so much juicier if you make resolutions for OTHER people. After all, the kind you make for yourself rarely pan out, so why not change it up?

So I hereby resolve that the Lions not bring back Dick Jauron as their head coach in 2006. And not only Jauron, but anyone else in whose title includes the word "coach." Broom them all, I tell you, from the offensive offensive coordinator to the quality control coach, from the linebackers coach to the strength and conditioning coach. The only true way to blow this team up -- and it is in expansion team status at this point -- is to do a complete housecleaning. Absolutely no one should be retained from the current staff, and the last one to leave should shut the lights off when they depart. Save on the electric bill for a few weeks until president Matt Millen calls another press conference to introduce what he hopes is the guy who won’t cause him to strike out on three straight pitches. Our old pal Matt is 0-2 when it comes to hiring head coaches. Maybe he’ll get lucky and pull a Rob Deer.

Deer, a Tigers outfielder in the early 90’s, had a fetish for striking out. He would do so about 150-175 times per year, to show you. But once I went to a ballgame with my girlfriend-now-wife -- a chilly night at Tiger Stadium in May 1991 -- and Deer defied all the odds. It was the bottom of the ninth, two outs, the Tigers trailing, and we started to pack up our blanket once Mr. Deer fell behind 0-2 -- he and the Tigers down to their last strike. It looked like we were going to be rescued from the night’s cold air, albeit at the cost of a Tigers loss.
But Deer cracked a homerun on the next pitch, tying the game, and the Tigers won in extra frames. It was all so improbable, but it just goes to show you -- the game is never over until that final out is made.

Maybe Matt Millen will be wise enough -- or lucky enough -- to drive the next pitch, at least into the gap, so the Lions can run around the bases a little bit. Maybe the team should hire a consultant, or an assistant for Millen who can advise him on this whole picking-a-head-coach thing. Lord knows he could use the help.

He can start by actually interviewing some people this time around -- taking his time and doing all due diligence necessary to ensure the new man is not only supremely qualified, but is determined to at least make this team more exciting to watch (re: a man with an offense-heavy resume). At least that’s what I would do if my next coaching hire was destined to make or break me.

Speaking of the Lions, someone asked me the other day what team Joey Harrington might play for if he is cut by them. I said the Raiders, for reasons I’ll explain shortly, but I must add that after seeing da Raiders drown in their own ineptitude Saturday night against the Giants, it makes me feel devilishly good that there is a Lions version of football being played in the AFC.

Did you see the Raiders take leave of their senses late in the fourth quarter? Trailing by nine, they were the beneficiaries of a pass interference call in the end zone, which placed the ball on the one-yard line with nearly four minutes to play and all three timeouts remaining. Then the Raiders went into Lions playcalling mode, much to the horror, I’m sure of Raiders Nation and owner Al Davis.

Three times they tried to drive the ball into the Giants’ strong defensive front, and three times the Raiders failed. In the process they burned two timeouts. Then it was fourth down, around two minutes to play. And with eery similarity to Jeff Garcia -- he even wears #5 -- quarterback Kerry Collins tried a sneak on fourth down. He didn’t make it. The Raiders challenged the call. They lost the challenge. They lost their third and final timeout in the process.

So here’s what the Raiders did with their golden opportunity to pull within two points with over two minutes remaining: they failed to score, AND they lost all three of their timeouts. To make matters worse, the slim hope that the Raiders could somehow force the Giants into a safety and get the ball back -- a distinct possibility since the Giants had the ball on their own one-foot line -- was dashed when, on the very next play, the Raiders jumped offsides, putting the ball just past the five yard-line. It was like watching the Lions in silver and black. And that sequence is why the Raiders are 4-12, and why Norv Turner is probably out as head coach in Oakland after two unremarkable seasons.

Now, back to Joey Harrington. If Harrington goes anywhere, I think Oakland would be a perfect fit for him. The Raiders usually like to throw downfield, and Joey can chuck it. I’m sure he’d have fun tossing the pigskin to Randy Moss and company. Plus, the Raiders are a team that traditionally takes other teams’ outcasts and welcomes them with open arms. Finally, an almost certain coaching change might mean the end of Collins’ time in Oakland as well, creating an opening for a new chucker. It all adds up, if it goes down like that, to a Harrington-to-Oakland scenario. Don’t laugh.

Oh, and while we’re at the business of making resolutions for other people, here’s one for Dick Jauron: I hereby resolve that you update your resume and keep your hopes down for another head coaching gig in the NFL.

Happy New Year.