Lions Need Super Bowl-Winning Management People, Not Players

They've come through town, their fingers ringed, and smiled the smile of the champion.

Damien Woody. Az Hakim. Eric Davis. Dre Bly. Desmond Howard. John Jett. An offensive lineman; a receiver; a couple defensive backs; a kick returner; even a punter, for goodness sake. And there've been more, as you go deeper into history -- players who've won Super Bowls for other organizations, in other years, for other coaches -- who've come to the Lions after having captured The Prize.

They've been looked at with awe in the locker room, for having owned what no other Lions player has come close to sniffing: that elusive World Championship ring.

It's even been a reason, in some instances, why some of those players have been signed to wear the Honolulu Blue and Silver. The old claptrap about how having players on your roster who've won championships somehow services you well. It was mentioned again yesterday, after the Lions signed safety Dwight Smith, proud alumnus of the 2002 Super Bowl-winning Tampa Bay Bucs.

Nonsense!

It's not PLAYERS who've won championships that the Lions have been lacking. Or, to fittingly borrow from an old campaign line in this, an election year: It's the management, stupid.

The Lions have woefully lacked Super Bowl-winning front office types, and that -- way more than a lack of Super Bowl-winning players -- is the biggest reason why they have been ring-less since the Eisenhower administration.

I remember back in the mid-to-late-1990s. Bill Ford Jr. was dispatched by his father to openly spy on the San Francisco 49ers. The objective was to find out how a championship-type organization goes about its business. So the younger Ford hung around the 49ers braintrust for a while, in training camp, taking notes, before reporting back to the brass in Pontiac.

That was over a hundred losses and a half dozen coaches ago.

It's nice to pick the brains of champions, but it's far more effective to go one step further and raid their organizations for their brightest talent.

How many Super Bowl winners do you think the New England Patriots had on their roster before they began their 21st century supremacy? Were the Indy Colts dotted with champions before the current management team took over and built a mini-empire?

As insult to injury, the Super Bowl "winners" that the Lions have signed have often proved to be far from key contributors to their old team's cause, anyhow. Starters? Yeah. Decent players? In some cases. But it's not like the Lions have brought Tom Brady, Marshall Faulk, or Warren Sapp over here, fresh off a championship.

But that's secondary. What's primary is that you cannot model yourself after an elite organization until you are ready to stop admiring from afar and start plundering from within.

The closest the Lions came to doing such a noble thing was in the mid-1980s, when they stole Bears executive Jerry Vainisi. But then they fouled the whole thing up by making him beholden to then-GM Russ Thomas, which completely defeated the purpose. They bought a Rolls Royce and fitted it with an Edsel engine.

So be ready to hear all about Smith and his 2002 experience. About his two returned INTs for touchdowns in the Super Bowl against the Raiders. It's nice. But it was for another team, at another time. You don't win Super Bowls with players resumes. You win with competent front offices and scouts.

The most important Super Bowl-winning talent a team can employ are those who wear suits and ties to work everyday.

Thursday's Things

(on most Thursdays at OOB, I rant in list fashion. Last week it was Things You Could Hear, If You Listened Hard Enough, As Nick Lidstrom Crumpled To The Ice In Denver On Monday)

Things In Sports I'll Never Understand

1. The two-minute warning. Really, why do we need to stop the clock in pro football with two minutes remaining in either half? It's particularly grating when the game is a blowout. I say if not eliminate it entirely, then make it obsolete if the score differential is more than 16 points. I know -- it'll never happen, mainly because it would eliminate precious advertising time on the tube.


2. Guys proposing marriage at the stadium. Why do men feel that something as private and tender as a marriage proposal should be done in full view of millions -- or at the very least, tens of thousands? Do ladies feel that it's romantic to be strong-armed into an engagement?


3. The NHL shootout. Tell me, ever since the league introduced the shootout after the lockout, is a penalty shot -- once one of the most exciting plays in sports -- as thrilling as it once was? Gotta give that a big, fat NO.

4. "Icing" the field goal kicker. Many placekickers say they actually enjoy the extra time they get, when the opponents call timeout before a big kick. Gives them a chance to gather their thoughts, talk to their holder and snapper, and basically kick under as controlled a situation as possible, rather than in hurry-up mode.

5. The possession arrow in college and high school basketball. This rule stemmed largely from the referees' inability to toss the ball fairly in a jump ball situation. This is one of the most moronic rules in all of sports. What if hockey decided to do such a thing? Forget face-offs; we're just going to alternate who gets the puck after every stoppage. Ridiculous!

6. Wearing jerseys with pro athletes' names on them. Nothing makes me cringe more than seeing a 300-pound, beer-guzzling doofus at the game wearing a "LIDSTROM" jersey that is stretched to its limit. It'd be like your Aunt Millie wearing a bathing suit with "ALBA" stitched on it. Blecch! And to prove that I practice what I preach, I own two hockey jerseys -- Penguins and Red Wings, and they have "ENO" on the back. Why? Well, that IS my name. (Exception: it CAN BE cute when women do it at the game; it's that whole wearing-mens-clothing-thing that I find endearing).

7. The media's mock NCAA basketball tourney selection earlier this month. They gathered a bunch of writers together recently and had them put together some mock brackets. My goodness, who CARES? It's about as useful as soliciting sixth-graders to vote for president in a "mock" election.

8. The Pro Bowl. Enough said.

9. Starting the MLB season in March -- and in northern cities, like Detroit. Can you say "makeup dates"?

10. Why it's so hard to win on the road in the Big Ten in basketball. Cripes, the percentages are more skewed than the NBA's. You don't think it has anything to do with officiating, do you? Hmmm.


That's all for this week. Care to share?

Shame On Red Wings If The Future Blinded Them

I'm loathe to agree with Free Press columnist and sometimes radio blowhard Drew Sharp, but I fear that I fall on his side of the fence when it comes to the Red Wings and the much-ballyhooed NHL trading deadline, which came and went yesterday like the month of March: in like a lion and out like a lamb. Sharp argued, rather competently, in this morning's Freep that GM Kenny Holland -- assuming we know all the facts, which we never do, so bear that in mind -- played things a might too conservatively, completing only one deal: acquiring D Brad Stuart from Los Angeles for a couple of draft picks.

As the clock ticked closer and closer to 3 p.m. yesterday, and as I refreshed the NHL.com trades page once every 2-3 minutes, failing to see the Red Wings logo, I kept muttering to myself, over and over: "I can't believe the Wings aren't going to make a move. I can't believe they're going to stand pat." It was almost 3:30 when even the late deals were being posted and announced, and I was beside myself. No deals? For a team depleted by injuries and 1-7-1 in their last nine games?

Well, then the Stuart deal came down the pike, and that soothed my nerves a little bit. Stuart's name had been mentioned a while back -- actually, when the Kings were in town on February 7. Incidentally, that game, a 5-3 come-from-ahead loss, started the Red Wings' current slide. Oh, and the man who scored the game-winning goal that night? None other than Brad Stuart.

But after the relief from the Stuart deal wore off -- which was about ten minutes, tops -- I went back to gnashing my teeth. I merely changed my whine to "ONE deal? For a team depleted by injuries and 1-7-1 in their last nine games?"

Now, as I eluded to in the first paragraph, we don't know what went on behind the scenes at Red Wings HQ. No doubt Holland and his crew were racking up the cell phone minutes, and no doubt that the club could have gotten into the Marian Hossa bidding, but the asking price was likely a bit steep. Certainly Holland was TRYING to look for something that made sense, without giving up too many draft picks and/or young players.

But here's my thing: when you have 90 points and lead the league, but things are dicey because of the injuries and the improvement of your main competitors, you kind of have to forget about the future a little bit. Let's face it: pro sports is about NOW. My feeling is that the fans who worry so much about giving up prospects are being a little disingenuous. Those same people want it both ways; they want to win now, AND have something under the mattress for a rainy day. That's not always possible, folks.

The Red Wings have been Cup contenders for 16 years straight. They're likely to be Cup contenders for several more years to come. How badly could they truly deplete their stockpile of youth? And isn't it worth a shot at some more championships?

I'm not saying the mythical "window" is closing on the Red Wings. Far from it. But whenever you're coming off a conference finals loss and following it up with a big year that has the general hockey community buzzing about your chances, then I say err on the side of recklessness.

I guess what it boils down to is this: I just hope the Red Wings didn't keep their guns in their holsters because they were afraid of dipping too much into future assets. I think pro sports teams' futures are bad bets anyway, if you want to know. The percentage of "prospects" who actually make a splash isn't as high as you think. And even if they do, and you're adding to your trophy case, who cares?

The fascination over "can't miss" guys who are "untouchable" as trade bait amuses me. If the Red Wings fretted too much over the future to the extent that they missed out on some deadline-available talent, then I'm in disagreement with that philosophy. Because, all things considered, the average fan doesn't give a hoot about the future. Everyone wants to win NOW.

Trade Deadline Rescued Murphy From Toronto In 1997

They booed him, unmercifully, every time he touched the puck. They made signs deriding him. Games at Maple Leaf Gardens became nasty. The fans were bidding him good riddance.

And he was one of theirs.

Larry Murphy, at the trade deadline in 1997, was held up as the punching bag for Toronto Maple Leafs fans frustrated with the team's Stanley Cup drought -- which continues today and is now 41 years old. It was obvious that he had to go; the differences between Murphy and the fans were irreconcilable.

To the rescue came the Red Wings.


Murphy came to the Red Wings at the deadline in '97 and added two Cups to his resume


They traded for Larry Murphy at the deadline in 1997, and free from the slings and arrows in Toronto, he helped the Red Wings win Stanley Cups the next two springs.

I bumped into Murphy the night Steve Yzerman's jersey went up to the rafters. We spent some time together in the alumni suite, watching the game below. I asked him about the final days in Toronto. He shrugged it off. Didn't seem to bother him all that much.

"It's all about winning," he said. "When you don't win, people get frustrated."

Mats Sundin, it was reported, has told Leafs management that he doesn't care to waive his no-trade clause. He would like, in other words, to stay in Toronto.

"To me, it means more to be part of the journey from October to June," Sundin said to the press, explaining his decision. "I've never cared for the idea of the rental player."

Tell that to Raymond Bourque, who finally won a Cup in 2001 with Colorado, after over 20 years with the Bruins and some failed Finals appearances. He didn't seem to mind the idea. But I can certainly understand Sundin's sentiment, and find it rather refreshing.

Of course, Sundin isn't being hung in virtual effigy in Toronto, the way Larry Murphy was. And it's perhaps easier for Murphy to shrug off that poor treatment, since he was a four-time Cup winner (two in Pittsburgh, two in Detroit). Plus, Murphy ended up being revered in Detroit, and stays close to the team as a TV analyst. Those miserable Toronto days are long gone.

By the way, if you're lucky enough to get the NHL Network (I do, with DirecTV), you might want to take a sick day. The network is providing non-stop coverage of Deadline Day tomorrow, from 8 A.M. to 6 P.M. They'll be all over it. I work from home, so I can bask in it; Deadline Day in the NHL is one of my favorite days of the year.

In 1997, I'm sure it was Larry Murphy's favorite day as well -- even if he could shrug it off some 10 years later.

Millen’s Cowardice Has Only One Cure: Winning

The short, dumpy, bespectacled man with the un-combed hair and ill-fitting suit stood before the throng of reporters at his introductory press conference and if you thought he was funny-looking, you were in for a treat once he began speaking.

In a squeaky, nerdy voice singed with Canada, he said, “As long as Jimmy Devellano is the general manager of the Detroy-et Red Wings, we will NOT trade a draft choice.”

It was the summer of 1982, and this little pipsqueak of a man was the one entrusted with the future of a hockey franchise teetering on the brink of self-destruction.

Jimmy Devellano. Jimmy D. The first man hired by new Red Wings owner Mike Ilitch, taking over after the Norris family era had fizzled out with one playoff appearance in 12 years. Years damaged by “Darkness With Harkness” and curious coaching hires and absurd draft choices. Grotesque re-naming of the team the “Dead Things” by an increasingly fed up media and fan base. A new hockey palace, Joe Louis Arena, that was hemorrhaging ticket-buying peasants.

Devellano’s addition, for my money, was the best bang-for-your-buck executive hire in Detroit sports history. He still works for the Red Wings as an Executive Vice President, and has been a key cog for six Stanley Cup winners: three in Detroit, to go along with the three he helped win with the New York Islanders, when he was a scouting genius. Twenty-six years of faithful service in Detroit ensued when Mike Ilitch, in one fell swoop, put an end to the front office nonsense that had been going on with the Red Wings for over a decade.

After he bought the Tigers in 1992, Ilitch monkeyed around with different GMs and scouting directors and player development people before he finally found his gem in David Dombrowski, hired in 2001. This time, Ilitch righted his own wrongs, instead of cleaning up someone else’s mess.

Bill Davidson, who would work out of offices in Detroit, then Pontiac, then Auburn Hills with the Pistons, was trying like mad to get his arms around a highly-dysfunctional front office after he bought out a syndicate of owners in 1974. He made some bad decisions before a league insider tipped him off to a little-known man sitting on the bench of the Indiana Pacers as an assistant coach.

When Davidson hired Jack McCloskey in December 1979, the Pistons had been reduced to expansion team status. McCloskey’s words. Once, Trader Jack offered his entire roster to the Lakers for Earvin “Magic” Johnson. When I reminded him of this youthful indiscretion a couple summers ago, McCloskey laughed, recalling it fondly and with total recollection.

McCloskey, though, was no fool. He built a championship team from the dregs he was handed when he signed on with the Pistons. And he did it rather rapidly, all things considered. Hiring a coach named Chuck Daly accelerated things a bit.

Davidson would learn more lessons after McCloskey departed, all of them the hard way. Until he handed the Palace keys over to Joe Dumars in 2000.

The Red Wings, Tigers, and Pistons have all graduated from the school of hard knocks. The Lions are still in detention hall.

Matt Millen was no coward on the football field. There really aren’t any of those in the NFL, if you want to know. One does not play professional football if one has any propensity toward fear. Millen was a middle linebacker, the kamikaze of the defense. He learned linebacking from the LB factory of college, otherwise known as Penn State University. Some schools make good doctors, or lawyers, or scientists. Penn State made linebackers. And Millen was one of the best – college and pro. He won pro championships – almost being able to fill all of his fingers on one hand with rings.

Millen does not run the Lions, anymore, with the zeal or reckless abandon that he once used to crush enemy ball carriers. There may not be any cowards on the football field, but there sure are some of them walking around in the management offices of professional sports teams across the country.

Millen is now one such coward.

He held an absurd, brief Q&A session with some Detroit sportswriters at the NFL combines in Indianapolis the other day. The newspapers printed portions of it, and the websites ran it in its entirety. But it had all the substance of a rice cake.

The questioners wanted to know why Millen is increasingly less visible and quiet the deeper he gets into his reign, which is now 112 games old – 81 of those losses.

“I can’t do anything about the perception,” he said. “You can perceive it any way you want. The facts are these: I have 100% confidence in Rod Marinelli. I trust him. I think he’s doing it the right way. I trust his words. So I don’t have to say anything. I think he does a great job with it, and I think it’s good. There’s one voice. Go ahead and speak. I’m very comfortable with him. …”

In other words, I’m going to prop my coach out there to take all the heat, even though he’s working with the chicken feathers I’ve given him, his charge being to make chicken salad out of it.

Millen says we can perceive it any way we want. That’s a fastball down the middle.

Millen is in seclusion most days because he has nothing good to talk about. Simple as that. And losing breeds cowardice among executive types.

When the Tigers were losing 119 games in 2003, Dombrowski didn’t vanish. Dumars of the Pistons and Kenny Holland of the Red Wings have put themselves in the line of fire, answering all the “what happened?” questions in the wake of playoff disappointments. No cowards, they. Winning has made them visible, and by extension, brave. And I can assure you that none of them would go into hiding if things were to ever go south again. They’re not those types of dudes.

Because they’re hard-knock school graduates, you see. They have diplomas, where Matt Millen has been too yellow to earn his.