"Meet the new boss....same as the old boss."
-- The Who, "Baba O’Reilly"
First let me say this about the Lions’ 21-16 loss to Minnesota yesterday at Ford Field: only the Vikings.
Let me explain.
Those of you who frequent this little blog, and who know me personally, are aware that I have a profound disdain for the Minnesota Vikings football team. It is a hatred that runs deep and has as its roots the beating, like a drum, the Vikes gave the Lions in the 70’s, forever keeping the boys in Honolulu Blue and Silver in second place -- and out of the playoffs most of the time -- in the NFC Central.
And you also may remember my post from Friday, when I beseeched the Lions to throw a "bombarooski" -- thank you, coach Bum Phillips -- on their first play from scrimmage. I said such a bold call -- a long bomb -- would do wonders for our boys and the fans, for several reasons that I outlined.
So naturally, those #$%#! Vikings stole my play call. It was the wrong 36 year-old (give or take a few months) -- Brad Johnson, not Jeff Garcia -- heaving the long ball on play #1, and it turned into -- of course -- an 80-yard touchdown pass. Mike Tice listens to me, so why won’t Greg Olson or Dick Jauron?
Actually, Olson, the new (sorta) offensive coordinator, who is on the same five-game tryout as Jauron, tried a technique that I don’t think I’ve seen from other NFL teams. It’s called "Using Your Wide Receivers As Decoys." The Lions’ passing game consisted of Garcia dancing around in the pocket and dumping it off to Shawn Bryson or Artose Pinner coming out of the backfield. If Jeff Garcia so much as looked at a wide receiver all afternoon, save the final, desperate-but-doomed-to-fail drive, then I’m a monkey’s uncle. And I’m an only child.
Olson, given the power to call plays by interim coach Jauron, treated such power as if it was the keys to his dad’s shiny new sports car (or, in the Lions’ case, an Edsel). He didn’t dare risk so much as a scratch. Granted, the team was without running back Kevin Jones, but when it came to the play-calling, I’ve seen more creativity on an invoice. I mean, are the Lions’ receivers really that bad when it comes to getting open? I know the offensive line isn’t the greatest, but where are all the slants and quick patterns that are supposed to be the hallmark of the West Coast Offense? It’s an incredibly shrinking playbook, the Lions’ one is, and you wonder if by the time the season comes to a merciful end, if there will be any plays left to call at all.
Despite the offensive offense, the Lions had a shot at the end because their defense played well enough to keep the score close. Although, sometimes I wonder if the other team doesn’t just either toy with our boys, or simply play down to their level. Lions’ opponents this year, even though they outclass them in many aspects, seem to just play well enough to beat them. If you look at the season, the Lions haven’t really been badly blown out, except in Week 2 against the Bears, and on Thanksgiving Day against the Falcons.
Speaking of the Bears, when will the Lions have that breakout, nobody-expected-anything year? When will they defy the experts and the odds and what’s on paper and injuries and play like they’ve sold their souls to the devil, like the Bears are doing now? Who on God’s green earth thought Da Bears would be 9-3 with a rookie quarterback? Yeah, yeah -- their defense is good. Still, they’re doing in Chicago that which is never done in Detroit. Maybe the 12-4, 1991 season might qualify. Nobody expected 12 wins out of the Lions in ‘91, who were coming off seasons of four, seven and six wins in ‘88-90. Regardless, I’m sick of watching other teams come out of nowhere and take the league by storm. The Lions come from nowhere and stay there.
The Detroit Lions are regressing horribly as a team, and they are staring 4-12 square in the face, which, if you recall, is what I predicted -- albeit in anger -- after attending a portion of the Monday Night Massacre against the Rams on August 29. They are headed for a finish that is sure to be ugly enough to call for an entire housecleaning of the current coaching staff. Don’t EVEN talk to me about Matt Millen, because he ain’t going anywhere, folks. Just like the football team he commandeers.
It also makes me want to say "SHAME on you" to the Packers, Ravens, Browns and Cardinals -- the four teams the Lions defeated this season. How any team could have fallen into defeat at the hands of our motley crew is beyond me. But again, the Lions are the portrait of regression, so I guess we’ll just chalk it up to "They were better when they beat us". Whatever makes you sleep at night, guys.
The Lions next play at Green Bay, where they haven’t won since 1991. Even if they pull it out, leave it to the Lions to make even that victory shallow, because they will have done it when the Packers are having a horrible season themselves and it won’t mean as much to beat the Packers in Lambeau Field because just about everyone is doing it nowadays.
By the way, that game in Green Bay is ESPN’s featured tilt on Sunday Night Football. Cable companies everywhere better get ready to refund their customers three hours worth of ESPN for the month. Maybe they can black the game out -- everywhere.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Isiah, Barry Thrilled Detroit The Most, In Their Own Ways
(the following column can also be viewed at RetailDetroit.com, where a new column from yours truly appears each Sunday or Monday. They will also appear here for your reading pleasure. For archives of my columns there, go to www.RetailDetroit.com and click on "Columnists")
Watching the Pistons honor Isiah Thomas at halftime of their game with the Knicks December 2nd, two things came to mind: Isiah, you gave us chills as a player; as a team executive, you’ve put chills up the spine of the franchises that have employed you. Oh well -- the emblazoning of "11 Thomas" on the sidelines of the Palace court was for the time spent in uniform, not the time spent in an Armani suit.
But back to the "chills as a player" part of that paragraph. It occurred to me, after some reflective moments while walking our Jack Russell Terror that evening, that Isiah Thomas -- the player -- has provided me with some of the most impressionable memories I have as a sports fan and journalist, as far as individual moments are concerned. Another is Barry Sanders, which I know isn’t exactly going out on a limb, but there you have it.
There have been many terrific athletes to play our town, and I consider myself lucky to have witnessed, in my 36 seasons watching and covering sports in Detroit, some dynamite performances -- careers, seasons, games. Sometimes 90 seconds.
In a playoff game against the Knicks in 1984, in Joe Louis Arena, with the air thick and the temperature hot, Isiah Thomas simply took over the proceedings. It was Game 5, the deciding game of a best-of-five series, and the Pistons would end up playing it in the hockey arena-turned basketball court, because the Silverdome -- their "home" -- was pre-booked. That’s right -- the Pistons were often times vagabonds in their own city, even during the playoffs. It was one of the biggest reasons they would one day build their own basketball home, in a place called Auburn Hills.
For a minute and a half, late in the fourth quarter, the Pistons trailing the deciding game on their supposed home floor by 10 points, Isiah put on a display that I, to this day, have never seen duplicated -- not by Jordan, not by Magic, not by Bird, not by anyone. Thomas shot, scored, stole the ball, shot and scored some more -- layups, mid-range jumpers, three-pointers -- stole another inbounds pass, made a three-pointer, was fouled, you name it. He brought the Pistons all the way back. By himself.
When the dust settled, and when the JLA crowd had screamed itself collectively hoarse, Isiah had scored 16 points in those final ninety seconds in regulation, willing the game into overtime. Of course, we had no idea how many points Thomas scored, nor that it had been done in a minute-and-a-half of playing time. All we knew was, Isiah was a one-man team at the end of the fourth quarter. The other four Pistons players were satellites on the court with him. He was celestial, and we were star struck, as were the Knicks. However, in overtime Thomas fouled out, and the Pistons collapsed into begrudging defeat. Many still believe that game, Pistons-Knicks Game 5, is one of the best playoff games ever. I don’t know about all that; all I know is, for ninety seconds, Isiah Thomas was the best basketball player who ever lived.
For about six minutes of the third quarter of Game 6 of the 1988 NBA Finals, Isiah Thomas was the gutsiest player who ever lived. The Pistons were trying to vanquish the Lakers, and they would have to do it on the enemy court in Los Angeles. It was Sunday -- Father’s Day. Isiah was having his way with the Lakers in the third, once again scoring at will, it seemed. But then running down the court, Thomas rolled his ankle something fierce. Immediately he started hobbling. Grimacing, he turned and ran the other way, the play switching ends. Despite terrific pain, and because the will to win a championship was beckoning him, Thomas scored 25 points in the third quarter alone. Nobody but Isiah himself, of course, will truly know what kind of pain he was in at that moment, but after the doctors explained it the next day, the severity of the sprain was such that we could only imagine the level of pain and be thankful it wasn’t any of us. The Pistons lost that game, and the championship in Game 7. But Isiah’s level of courage and determination almost overshadowed the Lakers’ winning of back-to-back titles. It’s storybook stuff.
******************************************
Isiah Thomas and Barry Sanders thrilled Detroit sports fans with individual moments of brilliance better and more often than any other athlete to play in the Motor City
******************************************
Thomas and Sanders provided
thrills to last a lifetime
There were other Isiah-isms I can call upon, but those two come to the forefront of my mind, whenever I choose to think of all-time great performances as a one-man band, even if that man had only one leg at his disposal.
Barry Sanders, I am proud to say, was another who played his entire career before my very eyes.
The greatness of Sanders, the waterbug Lions running back, was such that, every single game, he did something that you’d never seen a running back do, nor come close to doing. Every single game. Sanders could be just as breathtaking on an 80-yard gallop as he could in a two-yard loss. How many runners can you say that about?
I could watch a highlight reel of Barry Sanders’ great runs all day, and then I’d immediately hit the play button to watch it again. And from that reel, I would like to see these plays once more: a two-yard loss against the Bills in 1991, and a 55-yard screen pass reception in 1997. Both typify Sanders’ mesmerizing running ability.
In Buffalo, Sanders received a handoff, and as was commonplace, he was attacked behind the line of scrimmage. The great Bruce Smith, Bills’ defensive end, took hold of Barry’s jersey and spun him toward the ground, intending to screw him into the turf like a lawn stake. There is only one running back, I’m convinced, who could do what Barry Sanders did next. Instead of allowing his knees to touch the ground, creating an even bigger yardage loss for his team, Barry somehow managed to keep his balance, his left hand suddenly turning him into a human tripod for that microsecond. I swear to you his knees were inches from the football carpet. He should have been down, because 99.9% of human beings would have been down and Barry was human....wasn’t he? The fact that the play still ended up being a short loss took absolutely nothing away from its luster. I can still see that play now, as clear as the computer monitor now in front of me.
In the ’97 game against Tampa Bay at the Silverdome, the Lions, trying to safely kill time before halftime, found themselves 55 yards away from the Buccaneers’ goal line. The play called was a screen pass. Only, the blocking was poor and Barry caught the ball about eight yards behind the line of scrimmage, swarmed over by Tampa Bay defenders. To this day, I’m not sure how he did it, but Sanders juked and spun and scooted, and in doing so he made all eleven Buc defenders look silly, for when it was over with, Sanders had turned the Humpty Dumpty screen into a 55-yard touchdown pass. He went one-against-eleven, and won. It was just more proof that as long as Barry Sanders was in the backfield, the Lions were always one play away from a touchdown -- always. That’s what you can say when one man makes eleven others whiff.
Isiah Thomas and Barry Sanders thrilled Detroit sports fans with individual moments of brilliance better and more often than any other athlete to play in the Motor City. They each captured our hearts, but not before those hearts got caught in our throats. And they each were, in their best moments, masters of their inhabitant, which is all a player can really ask for, isn’t it?
Watching the Pistons honor Isiah Thomas at halftime of their game with the Knicks December 2nd, two things came to mind: Isiah, you gave us chills as a player; as a team executive, you’ve put chills up the spine of the franchises that have employed you. Oh well -- the emblazoning of "11 Thomas" on the sidelines of the Palace court was for the time spent in uniform, not the time spent in an Armani suit.
But back to the "chills as a player" part of that paragraph. It occurred to me, after some reflective moments while walking our Jack Russell Terror that evening, that Isiah Thomas -- the player -- has provided me with some of the most impressionable memories I have as a sports fan and journalist, as far as individual moments are concerned. Another is Barry Sanders, which I know isn’t exactly going out on a limb, but there you have it.
There have been many terrific athletes to play our town, and I consider myself lucky to have witnessed, in my 36 seasons watching and covering sports in Detroit, some dynamite performances -- careers, seasons, games. Sometimes 90 seconds.
In a playoff game against the Knicks in 1984, in Joe Louis Arena, with the air thick and the temperature hot, Isiah Thomas simply took over the proceedings. It was Game 5, the deciding game of a best-of-five series, and the Pistons would end up playing it in the hockey arena-turned basketball court, because the Silverdome -- their "home" -- was pre-booked. That’s right -- the Pistons were often times vagabonds in their own city, even during the playoffs. It was one of the biggest reasons they would one day build their own basketball home, in a place called Auburn Hills.
For a minute and a half, late in the fourth quarter, the Pistons trailing the deciding game on their supposed home floor by 10 points, Isiah put on a display that I, to this day, have never seen duplicated -- not by Jordan, not by Magic, not by Bird, not by anyone. Thomas shot, scored, stole the ball, shot and scored some more -- layups, mid-range jumpers, three-pointers -- stole another inbounds pass, made a three-pointer, was fouled, you name it. He brought the Pistons all the way back. By himself.
When the dust settled, and when the JLA crowd had screamed itself collectively hoarse, Isiah had scored 16 points in those final ninety seconds in regulation, willing the game into overtime. Of course, we had no idea how many points Thomas scored, nor that it had been done in a minute-and-a-half of playing time. All we knew was, Isiah was a one-man team at the end of the fourth quarter. The other four Pistons players were satellites on the court with him. He was celestial, and we were star struck, as were the Knicks. However, in overtime Thomas fouled out, and the Pistons collapsed into begrudging defeat. Many still believe that game, Pistons-Knicks Game 5, is one of the best playoff games ever. I don’t know about all that; all I know is, for ninety seconds, Isiah Thomas was the best basketball player who ever lived.
For about six minutes of the third quarter of Game 6 of the 1988 NBA Finals, Isiah Thomas was the gutsiest player who ever lived. The Pistons were trying to vanquish the Lakers, and they would have to do it on the enemy court in Los Angeles. It was Sunday -- Father’s Day. Isiah was having his way with the Lakers in the third, once again scoring at will, it seemed. But then running down the court, Thomas rolled his ankle something fierce. Immediately he started hobbling. Grimacing, he turned and ran the other way, the play switching ends. Despite terrific pain, and because the will to win a championship was beckoning him, Thomas scored 25 points in the third quarter alone. Nobody but Isiah himself, of course, will truly know what kind of pain he was in at that moment, but after the doctors explained it the next day, the severity of the sprain was such that we could only imagine the level of pain and be thankful it wasn’t any of us. The Pistons lost that game, and the championship in Game 7. But Isiah’s level of courage and determination almost overshadowed the Lakers’ winning of back-to-back titles. It’s storybook stuff.
******************************************
Isiah Thomas and Barry Sanders thrilled Detroit sports fans with individual moments of brilliance better and more often than any other athlete to play in the Motor City
******************************************
Thomas and Sanders provided
thrills to last a lifetime
There were other Isiah-isms I can call upon, but those two come to the forefront of my mind, whenever I choose to think of all-time great performances as a one-man band, even if that man had only one leg at his disposal.
Barry Sanders, I am proud to say, was another who played his entire career before my very eyes.
The greatness of Sanders, the waterbug Lions running back, was such that, every single game, he did something that you’d never seen a running back do, nor come close to doing. Every single game. Sanders could be just as breathtaking on an 80-yard gallop as he could in a two-yard loss. How many runners can you say that about?
I could watch a highlight reel of Barry Sanders’ great runs all day, and then I’d immediately hit the play button to watch it again. And from that reel, I would like to see these plays once more: a two-yard loss against the Bills in 1991, and a 55-yard screen pass reception in 1997. Both typify Sanders’ mesmerizing running ability.
In Buffalo, Sanders received a handoff, and as was commonplace, he was attacked behind the line of scrimmage. The great Bruce Smith, Bills’ defensive end, took hold of Barry’s jersey and spun him toward the ground, intending to screw him into the turf like a lawn stake. There is only one running back, I’m convinced, who could do what Barry Sanders did next. Instead of allowing his knees to touch the ground, creating an even bigger yardage loss for his team, Barry somehow managed to keep his balance, his left hand suddenly turning him into a human tripod for that microsecond. I swear to you his knees were inches from the football carpet. He should have been down, because 99.9% of human beings would have been down and Barry was human....wasn’t he? The fact that the play still ended up being a short loss took absolutely nothing away from its luster. I can still see that play now, as clear as the computer monitor now in front of me.
In the ’97 game against Tampa Bay at the Silverdome, the Lions, trying to safely kill time before halftime, found themselves 55 yards away from the Buccaneers’ goal line. The play called was a screen pass. Only, the blocking was poor and Barry caught the ball about eight yards behind the line of scrimmage, swarmed over by Tampa Bay defenders. To this day, I’m not sure how he did it, but Sanders juked and spun and scooted, and in doing so he made all eleven Buc defenders look silly, for when it was over with, Sanders had turned the Humpty Dumpty screen into a 55-yard touchdown pass. He went one-against-eleven, and won. It was just more proof that as long as Barry Sanders was in the backfield, the Lions were always one play away from a touchdown -- always. That’s what you can say when one man makes eleven others whiff.
Isiah Thomas and Barry Sanders thrilled Detroit sports fans with individual moments of brilliance better and more often than any other athlete to play in the Motor City. They each captured our hearts, but not before those hearts got caught in our throats. And they each were, in their best moments, masters of their inhabitant, which is all a player can really ask for, isn’t it?
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Knicks' Crawford Will Soon Bedevil Opposing Teams
Jamal Crawford: The next Dwyane Wade?First impressions of the Knicks’ visit to the Palace last night to take on the Pistons in Larry Brown’s much ballyhooed return to the Motor City: the coach has his work cut out for him, even though his team gave the Pistons a game for a half. Second impressions: Jamal Crawford is a PLAYER.
When the Knicks were giving the Pistons all they could handle in the first half, edging out to leads of as much as nine points, and when they made a rather furious comeback in the fourth quarter from a 19-point deficit, it was Crawford who seemed to hurt the Pistons the most.
The kid from U-M can shoot, he can penetrate, and he can throw some moves on you that will remove you from your socks and your athletic supporter.
Die-hard NBA fans are probably chortling now, thinking, "Eno is just NOW discovering Jamal Crawford?" Well, that may be true, but I do know a little bit about pro basketball, and I can tell you that when Crawford entered the league as a Chicago Bull, he was still developing and the Bulls themselves were in the embryonic stage. In his second season with the Knicks, Crawford looks ready for prime time, ready to edge himself into the upper echelon of small men in the Eastern Conference.
Of course, he’s not all THAT small -- 6’5" -- but in today’s NBA he is about the same size -- relatively speaking -- as the man who now employs him, Isiah Thomas. It was fitting that the Pistons should honor Thomas the same night Crawford put on a show. For in 1981, when the Pistons made Isiah the second overall pick in the draft, behind Mark Aguirre, now a Knicks assistant coach, critics said you couldn’t build a team around a point guard. The NBA was just coming out of the 1970’s, when big men ruled and if you didn’t have a good one, your chances of hoisting the trophy at the end of the year were virtually nil. Obviously, Pistons GM Jack McCloskey proved that talk to be all wet, and he absolutely built his championship squads around "little big man" Thomas.
The Knicks, I believe, can build their team around Crawford, though he isn’t the point guard. The kid can shoot, defend, and draw fouls. He is sort of like a Dwyane Wade that way.
Last night against the Pistons, Crawford had 22 points and six assists in 33 minutes. He hit two of four from the three point line, where he is a respectable 34% shooter in his career.
If Larry Brown hangs around Manhattan long enough, he might be able to help this kid blossom into one of the top ten players in the NBA.
Friday, December 02, 2005
Lions' First Play Sunday Should Be "The Bombarooski"
In October, 1981, the Lions were slated to play the Bears on "Monday Night Football." Our team was, as usual, struggling to find its way through the season, sitting at 2-4, I believe. The decision was made to start rookie Eric Hipple at quarterback instead of veteran Gary Danielson. On national television, no less.
Well, on the Lions' first play from scrimmage, as Howard Cosell chuckled in the booth and said, "I love it!", Hipple threw a long, 49-yard bomb to Leonard Thompson. The crowd roared. Hipple destroyed the Bears, throwing four touchdown passes and running for two others in a 48-17 victory. A star was born, sort of.
If I was Greg Olson, the Lions' new, temporary offensive coordinator, I would call much the same play right out of the gate Sunday against the Vikings at Ford Field. Despite Jeff Garcia's below-average arm, I would throw what former coach Bum Phillips used to call "the bombarooski."
"Throw the bombarooski!"
If Olson turns Garcia into the Mad Bomber (apologies to Daryle Lamonica) for at least that first play, it would a) bring the Lions fans to their feet and get them into the game early; b) make the Vikings think, and c) function as a symbolic, almost cathartic move for Lions players (especially the receivers) and fans alike. Garcia could wing that ball, heave it as far as he can, and in the process relieve tons of pressure and tension that's been building up around the Lions all week -- indeed, all season. Maybe even all decade.
The pass doesn't even have to be completed, though that wouldn't hurt. Just don't have it intercepted. But if it falls incomplete, so be it. I still think the fans would stand in unison and approve.
Just make sure Greg Olson knows you heard it here first.
Well, on the Lions' first play from scrimmage, as Howard Cosell chuckled in the booth and said, "I love it!", Hipple threw a long, 49-yard bomb to Leonard Thompson. The crowd roared. Hipple destroyed the Bears, throwing four touchdown passes and running for two others in a 48-17 victory. A star was born, sort of.
If I was Greg Olson, the Lions' new, temporary offensive coordinator, I would call much the same play right out of the gate Sunday against the Vikings at Ford Field. Despite Jeff Garcia's below-average arm, I would throw what former coach Bum Phillips used to call "the bombarooski."
"Throw the bombarooski!"If Olson turns Garcia into the Mad Bomber (apologies to Daryle Lamonica) for at least that first play, it would a) bring the Lions fans to their feet and get them into the game early; b) make the Vikings think, and c) function as a symbolic, almost cathartic move for Lions players (especially the receivers) and fans alike. Garcia could wing that ball, heave it as far as he can, and in the process relieve tons of pressure and tension that's been building up around the Lions all week -- indeed, all season. Maybe even all decade.
The pass doesn't even have to be completed, though that wouldn't hurt. Just don't have it intercepted. But if it falls incomplete, so be it. I still think the fans would stand in unison and approve.
Just make sure Greg Olson knows you heard it here first.
Cheers Or Jeers? Larry Brown Comes Back To The Palace
To boo or not to boo --
that is the question
I'm usually not one to care what kind of response players or coaches receive from the fans when they're in town. Typically, whatever happens only lasts for a few seconds anyway, and it's forgotten by the time the game starts.
But when Larry Brown is introduced this evening at the Palace as the head coach of the New York Knicks, I am indeed very curious as to how the Pistons faithful will respond.
On the one hand, LB wore out his welcome, I believe, which says a lot more about him than the Detroit fans, considering he won a championship and came minutes away from winning another. Normally when you do that, the folks here lengthen the red carpet and anoint you. The fact that Brown could accomplish nearly back-to-back titles and still be told "good riddance" is an indictment of the antics he pulled. So that's the case for a cascade of boos to rain down on him tonight.
The other side says, hey, the guy DID bring us to the promised land, so cut him some slack. After all, we all knew what we were getting when the Pistons hired Brown in 2003. So there's the case for a mostly warm reception.
My gut tells me there will be more cheers than boos -- at the Palace. However, something else also tells me that there are people who will actually boo Brown from their living room sofa. But maybe the amount of boos at the Palace will be dependent upon the amount of booze the denizens have consumed.
The reaction, though, is sure to be mixed because while Detroiters love a winner as much as the next city's fans, they also appreciate loyalty and commitment. We're a rather insecure bunch here, and when we get the feeling that someone doesn't really want to be here, we don't like that, and aren't shy to let them know. Pudge Rodriguez, for example, is hemorrhaging supporters because he doesn't give them that warm and fuzzy feeling.
Even before Brown's name is blared by Mason over the P.A. system, the reaction is sure to start. It will start, frankly, the moment Brown steps onto the court. It will continue to simmer and cause a murmur until the formal introductions are made. Then, and only then, will we find out what the "official" reaction will be.
By the way, they ARE playing a game tonight, too, aren't they?
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