Rodgers Likely a Super Bowl Repeat Offender

The young quarterback had just finished one of the greatest seasons of all-time for a passer. It might have been the best ever. He was just in his second year and already he was tearing up the NFL.

Yet he was no regular season wonder. He loaded his team onto his golden right arm and marched them right into the Super Bowl, against the squad that would come to be known as The Team of the '80s.

The Miami Dolphins lost Super Bowl XIX, but their brash young quarterback didn't fret all too much.

"I figured we'd be back---again and again," Dan Marino said.

After the third or fourth year of NOT being back, Marino started to rethink that assertion.

Marino never did get back, despite a 17-year career.

Brett Favre was in his fifth season as the Green Bay Packers' starting QB when he went to the first of two straight Super Bowls (he went 1-1).

Favre never got back, either---and he played for 13 years after that.

As wonderfully gifted as Aaron Rodgers is, as on top of the football world as he is this morning, and as young as he is, he plays in the National Football League, where the smart money often turns dumb in a hurry, and unexpectedly.

You'd like to think that the rest of the NFL ought to look out, that Rodgers will be set loose on the opposition. You might believe that he is the new Bradshaw, or Montana, or Brady---making several pilgrimages to the Super Bowl.

Or he might be another Marino, or Favre---sparkling passers, terrific leaders who found a return trip to the Big Game to be mighty elusive.

I don't mean to rain on anyone's parade today. This isn't me portending doom and gloom.

But we'll see how Rodgers fares. We'll see if he's ready to join Brady, his contemporary in the AFC, and become the preeminent quarterback of the NFC.

Care to wager on whether we'll see a Rodgers-Brady matchup one Super Sunday in the near future?

Rodgers was brilliant yet again yesterday, as he's been all season, and as he was throughout the post-season. His numbers would have been even more gaudy were it not for all the dropped passes.

Still, he threw for over 300 yards, tossed three TD passes, and turned three Pittsburgh Steelers turnovers into 21 points.

Rodgers is elite now. He's the poor man's Steve Young, in that he has, in one fell swoop, escaped the shadow of a legend and won a championship. Two gorillas removed with one stone.

Young never got back to a Super Bowl, either, after beating San Diego in 1995.

It would seem that Aaron Rodgers' football world is his oyster. He's still young, he's on top of his game, and he has equally as young teammates who are key contributors.

There doesn't appear to be any serious contender for his status as the best QB in the conference, other than maybe Drew Brees.

Brady is still the best quarterback in the league, because he was just named its MVP---unanimously.

Rodgers seems to be on the verge of greatness that would eclipse even that of Bart Starr and Favre, his two Green Bay co-superstars.

But the NFL doesn't play that game, all the time. It doesn't anoint so easily.

Rodgers should get back to the Big Game, maybe as early as next season. Regardless, he ought to be back, more than once.

He should.

We'll see.

Brett WHO?; Rodgers Running With the Torch in Green Bay

For three years, Aaron Rodgers did what all quarterbacks for the Green Bay Packers do who wear No. 12: he stood on the sidelines and backed up a legend, knowing full well that none of the fans wanted to see him enter the game, unless his team was ahead by five touchdowns.

The original No. 12 was Zeke Bratkowski, and the only way you’ll find him on NFL Films is if you catch him standing next to coach Vince Lombardi.

Bratkowski backed up Bart Starr for six seasons, which was not unlike being Shakespeare’s ghostwriter.

Rodgers is today’s No. 12 for the Packers, and for three seasons he wore a baseball cap, not a football helmet. For ahead of Rodgers was Brett Favre, who started his first NFL game in September 1992 and didn’t stop starting until a month ago.

Rodgers caught Favre at the end of his Packers career, which meant there were yearly questions every summer about whether or not the latter would retire.

Favre played in 2005 and he played in 2006 and in 2007 and Rodgers was the only Packer who didn’t have to tip the team’s laundry guy.

But Rodgers was a first-round draft pick, the 24th player selected, a 6’2”, 220-lb. specimen from Cal, and he was drafted for a reason.

One day, Packers management knew, Brett Favre wouldn’t be around anymore, and so there needed to be a capable young guy to take over the quarterbacking business.

I wonder if even the higher-ups in Green Bay knew what they’d be unleashing on the rest of the league when they drafted Aaron Rodgers.

The Packers finally lost Favre, but not to retirement—to the New York Jets in 2008.

That’s when someone cleared his throat, tapped Rodgers on the shoulder, and said, “Coach McCarthy will see you now.”

Rodgers would finally get a chance to wear a helmet.

But this wasn’t just any quarterback Rodgers was replacing. He’d be following Favre, the only signal caller in franchise history who you could even place in the same sentence as Starr, let alone dare a comparison.

Favre led the Packers for 16 seasons without missing a start. Then, just like that, he was gone.

Enter Rodgers, which at the time was like saying, “Introducing New Coke!”

Everyone felt sorry for the kid.

You want to be the guy to follow Brett Favre?

It was like performing on stage after they announced that Elvis had left the building.

Normally, a sports legend is followed by a guy or two (or more) who are place-setters—transitional players who are merely there until the team finds the next superstar at that position.

After Starr retired in 1971, the Packers didn’t have a decent quarterback until Don Majkowski lit it up in 1989. And it was Majkowski’s injury, ironically, that paved the way for Favre in 1992.

So it wasn’t expected that Favre would leave and the Packers wouldn’t miss a beat, despite Rodgers’ status as a first-round draft choice.

What Rodgers has been able to do in three seasons as the Packers’ starting quarterback is nothing short of amazing.

A legend left town, and the denizens don’t miss him.

This isn’t to say that Brett Favre is forgotten in Green Bay—far from it. But Rodgers has performed so brilliantly, he’s been able to let the Packers fans down gently in the wake of Favre’s departure.

Let’s wind the clocks back to the summer of 1999—when Barry Sanders abruptly retired from the Lions.

The team was left scrambling for a capable running back, and wound up with Greg Hill, which is someone you end up with when you have to scramble.

Now imagine if the Lions had an understudy waiting in the wings, and that running back stepped in and played so well, the sting of Sanders’ retirement would have been deadened as if the whole town was shot up with Novocaine.

That’s what Rodgers has done in Green Bay. He’s done the improbable: he’s made the transition from the Favre Era virtually seamless.

It’s almost unprecedented, I tell you.

If not for Steve Young taking over for Joe Montana in San Francisco, it WOULD be unprecedented—where a legendary quarterback has been followed the very next year with someone as good as Rodgers has been for the Packers.

And that’s not even a fair comparison, because Young was no unproven, unknown entity; he’d been a capable NFL quarterback for a number of years before landing with the 49ers.

So here comes Rodgers, and in his first season as the Packers starter, he throws for over 4,000 yards, has 28 touchdown passes and just 13 interceptions. His quarterback rating, that convoluted statistic that they came up with at NASA, was a healthy 93.8.

And he was just getting warmed up.

In 2009, Rodgers threw for 4,434 yards with a TD-to-interception ratio of an unworldly 30-to-7. The QB rating rose to 103.2.

This season, Rodgers missed the 4,000 yard mark by 78 because he missed a game due to the effects of a concussion. Still, he tossed 28 touchdown passes, threw just 11 interceptions, and had a QB rating of 101.2. The performance earned him the FedEx Air NFL Player of the Year Award.

In three seasons as The Man Who Replaced Brett Favre, Rodgers has thrown for 12,394 yards, 86 TDs, and just 31 interceptions.

There is only one thing now that excludes Rodgers from Starr and Favre in terms of Packers quarterback greatness.

On Sunday, Rodgers will get the opportunity to be the third Packers QB to win a Super Bowl. If he does so, the duet of Starr and Favre becomes a legitimate trio.

What I’m about to suggest would have been so unthinkable in 2008, you’d have me fitted for a straitjacket.

The way Aaron Rodgers is going (he might be the best player in the entire NFL), maybe Brett Favre’s 17 years in Green Bay merely formulated the longest opening act in football history.

Elvis left the building, and the Beatles took the stage.

This Time, It’s the Lions’ Opponents Who Have the ‘Splaining to Do

There---now you can finally say it, officially.

The Detroit Lions are improving. Their record says so.

The Lions, in fact, have made a 50% leap in improvement---and there are still three games to go.

It's number crunching---and in a way that shows the Lions in the best possible light.

The Lions, after outlasting the Green Bay Packers, 7-3, Sunday at Ford Field, sit at 3-10. They won two games all of last year.

So their two wins of 2009 increased to three in 2010 (so far)---and that, according to mathematics and statistics, is a 50% jump in the win column.

What do you mean, those numbers don't tell the story?

You don't think the Lions are 50% better now than they were last year?

That's OK---me neither.

But improvement is improvement, and the Lions officially entered the land of improvement by scratching and clawing their way to theird third win of the season.

Lucy didn't pull the football away this time. The other guys stepped on the rake and smacked themselves in the face for a change. The Packers got squirted with the daisy---got zapped by the joy buzzer.

It was a Sunday when the other team's quarterback got knocked silly and out of commission. It was the other inexperienced quarterback's turn to throw a terrible interception in the end zone (though the Lions' Drew Stanton did that, too---so maybe it was a push).

This time, it's not the Lions' duty to explain a curious play call that might have cost the loser the game. It's not for them to lament too many penalties or to be foiled by an official's yellow flag.

It's not the Lions who have to enlighten the fans and the press as to why they couldn't run the football consistently.

The Lions and their fanbase waited at the station for the fourth quarter train to come and take them to Loserville, but it never arrived. The Packers hopped on and bypassed the Lions at the stop.

The Lions won, 7-3. Only the Lions could win 7-3---just like only the Lions could lose 7-3.

But this wasn't dumb fool luck.

It's not a case of a blind squirrel finding a nut when your defensive line spends about a third of the game laying their hands on Packers QBs and runners behind the line of scrimmage.

It's not sheer fortune when you hold a Packers offense that frequently scores north of 30 points per game, to a mere field goal.

This was Lions-Packers, and ever since Brett Favre left, that has meant a stat line for Green Bay QB Aaron Rodgers that resembles one plucked from an intra-squad, no contact drill.

You know the kind. The kind where Rodgers connects on about 75% of his passes, chucks the football for about 300 yards, and tosses a couple TD passes, with no interceptions or dirt on his jersey.

But on Sunday, Rodgers spent the second half in a concussed, dazed state, thanks to being planted into the turf by Lions LB Landon Johnson, a hit that left Rodgers' body twisted and mangled like an abused Gumby doll.

I don't like to see players get hurt, but wasn't it nice to see the Lions knock a QB out of the game, for a change?

And, it was a good, clean hit by Johnson. Rodgers has no one but himself to blame, since he eschewed the slide for a couple meaningless yards.

So Rodgers didn't carve up the Lions like he usually does. Even prior to the hit that knocked him out, Rodgers had mediocre numbers, at best. Yes, Greg Jennings flubbed a probable touchdown catch and run, but Rodgers wasn't himself on this day. In fact, he played like he suffered a concussion during breakfast.

Sunday's game was the big bully and the 98-pound weakling getting together for another mismatch, except that the bully stubbed his toes trying to kick sand in the weakling's face again.

Given new life after Rodger's understudy, Matt Flynn, threw a miserable interception in the end zone to DeAndre Levy, the Lions clung to the Packers and never let go, keeping the score 3-0 Green Bay until the fourth quarter.

Till that point, Lions QB Drew Stanton was looking like, well, Drew Stanton. But then he peeled off his mask, like in a "Mission: Impossible" movie, and revealed a real life NFL quarterback underneath---the kind who can engineer a fourth quarter, 80-yard drive for the game-winning touchdown.

Stanton was good for basically one drive---and it was the most important one. A 13-yard screen pass to tight end Will Heller capped it off.

But there was more than enough time for the Packers, even with the kid Flynn at QB, to mount a deflating comeback.

The Lions D-line said, "Not this week."

They continued harrassing the Pack just enough to keep them off rhythm and off the scoreboard the rest of the day.

A couple weeks ago, after the Lions went into the tank in the fourth quarter on Thanksgiving Day and sniped at each other afterward, I said on "The Knee Jerks" podcast that the in-fighting didn't bother me so much; it's to be expected when another season has turned to dust.

What I wanted to see, I said, was an effort in the final five games that Lions fans could be proud of. The remainder of the schedule was bursting with teams jockeying for playoff positioning. Let's see if the Lions can spoil other teams' fun, I wanted to know.

Coach Jim Schwartz's handle on his team wasn't proven or disproven because of some heated remarks after another loss, I said. But how his team played down the stretch, the season essentially over, would be far more telling as to whether Schwartz has lost his men or not.

Last week the Lions may have collapsed a bit in the fourth quarter against the Bears, but their effort was good, especially out of the gate.

Yesterday, no one could rightly accuse the Lions of packing it in (no pun intended) against Green Bay, another team whose final games mean everything to them.

Next week the Lions travel to Tampa, where the Bucs are in a life-or-death struggle to make the playoffs.

Then it's off to Miami, where the Dolphins certainly have a lot to play for.

The Vikings in Week 17 might even have a Wild Card shot, should they get on a roll here.

It would make five straight opponents for the Lions whose seasons are on the line, following the Thanksgiving debacle.

So far, the Lions are 2-for-2 in playing such opponents with some moxie and grit.

Schwartz is slowly making a case for himself that he's the guy to see this project to at least the next step, if his team keeps playing these superior, incentive-laden opponents tough and even beating them on occasion, when the Lions' season is again reduced to "Where Will We Draft Next Year"?

For one week, at least, the Lions didn't have to defend themselves to the fans and to the media after the game. They didn't have to muster up another explanation for why things went horribly wrong at the worst possible time. They didn't have to shake their heads at some wacky play that turned momentum.

Good for them.

Lions Deserved to Lose, Because That's What Happened

Professional football plays no favorites, abides by no accounting other than what is deserved. It's the ultimate reap-what-you-sow sport.

There are 120 or so snaps in a typical NFL game, and every one of them plays a role in the outcome.

This isn't baseball, where the sins of errors and leaving men on base can be atoned by one swing of the bat in the bottom of the ninth.

This isn't hockey, where a fluke deflection of the puck off the skate of a goalie's own teammate can end up in the net for the winning tally.

And this isn't basketball, where the heroics of one superstar can overcome the combined efforts of five opposing men.

This is pro football, and you get what you deserve---good or bad. Contrary to what some believe, luck doesn't play much of a factor at all.

NFL games are 60 minutes, 120+ snaps of who can make the best plays at the most opportune times. It's like taking a college entrance exam of 120 questions, where any of the questions can be used at random for or against you, to determine whether you qualify.

There is an accounting in pro football, and that accounting is as impartial as a tornado.

You decide your own fate in the NFL, week after week. You can point as many fingers as you want, but the sport forces you to look into the mirror every Sunday after the final gun goes off.

Lions quarterback Shaun Hill, his gut wrenched in the wake of another defeat, tried an end-around against one of pro football's hard and fast rules as he spoke to the media yesterday in Green Bay following his team's 28-26 loss to the Packers.

"We deserved that win," Hill said. "We deserved to get the feeling of that win."

I feel Hill's pain, but he's as wrong as the day is long.

I firmly believe that every team that wins or loses an NFL game deserves what it got, every week.

In fact, you could even say that more NFL games are lost than are ever won, and I wouldn't give you much of an argument.

The Lions lost to the Packers, and that's what they deserved, Shaun Hill's emotional plea notwithstanding.

The Packers won because, when they needed it most, their mostly unproductive offense rammed the football down the Lions' throats to eat up the final six-and-a-half minutes of the game.

The Lions lost because they committed penalties, dropped passes, threw interceptions, and kicked field goals instead of extra points.

It was, perhaps, a game lost rather than a game won.

But it was, indefatigably, what the Lions deserved. The Packers, too.

The Lions' players, to a man, believe they're getting better. They believe they're getting closer to winning football games. They "should be 3-1, 2-2 at the least," according to LB Julian Peterson.

The players bemoan their mistakes, yet make them week after week. They speak of things "you just can't do" on the football field, but go ahead and do them anyway.

"It's on me."

"That was my fault."

"I can't let that happen."

"We can't keep shooting ourselves in the foot."

"We self-destructed. We beat ourselves."

Those are quotes from football players every week in half of the locker rooms in the NFL. They've been quotes of Lions players after 41 of the past 44 games.

And those quotes underline my hypothesis---that the losing pro football team gets exactly what it deserves.

Yeah, I know the Lions got jobbed in Week One in Chicago. But were they truly the better football team that day?

The Lions contained the Packers' offense for almost the entire second half yesterday---except for the final 6:23 of the game, which just happened to be the most crucial 6:23 of the afternoon.

Just prior to that, the Lions had the ball on the Packers' 37 but elected to punt instead of trying a 54, 55-yard field goal to nudge ahead, 29-28.

The Lions never touched the ball after that cowardly decision.

The final score was exactly what they deserved, statistics be damned.

That's the NFL--a league whose games are the ultimate pass/fail course.

Forty Years Ago, AFL Showed the NFL Who the REAL Fools Were

The words stuck in the craw of the proud, fiercely loyal American Football League players and coaches like a popcorn kernel under the furthest molar.

“I think the Kansas City Chiefs are a tough football team,” Green Bay Packers coach Vince Lombardi said in the afterglow of his team’s 35-10 win over them in Super Bowl I.

So far, so good. Then Vince laid down the hammer.

“But I don’t think the Chiefs compare to the teams in the NFL. There—I said it. That’s what you wanted me to say, right?”

The NFL beat writers, and commissioner Pete Rozelle, who had just presented Lombardi with the trophy that would later bear the coach’s name, roared with laughter.

Zing!

Edwin Pope of the Miami Herald ran back to the Chiefs’ locker room. He went straight for coach Hank Stram.

“Henry! Henry!” Pope screamed, according to his account given to the NFL Network. “Did you hear what Lombardi said about the AFL?”

Pope told Stram about Lombardi’s zinger. What Stram said in reply isn’t fit for this column. It isn’t even fit for a John Edwards biography.

A year later, Lombardi’s Packers again dominated, this time destroying the 13-1 Oakland Raiders in Super Bowl II. Lombardi didn’t need to talk after that one.

After the first two Super Bowls—they were more popularly known as the AFL-NFL Championship Games back then—the nickname of the AFL’s founding fathers seemed to fit them like a glove.

“The Foolish Club,” they called them—eight men who dared to place pro football franchises in cities like Houston and Buffalo (BUFFALO!), and in the backyards of already existing NFL organizations in Los Angeles and New York.

The Packers won the first two championships played between the two leagues by an aggregate score of 68-24.

Foolish, indeed!

Lenny Dawson quarterbacked the Chiefs on that day in January, 1967 in the Los Angeles Coliseum, when the Packers ran away from the Chiefs in the game’s second half. And he was in the stands in the Orange Bowl in Miami two years later, biting almost clear through his tongue.

On the field, Joe Namath and the New York Jets were running roughshod over the venerable Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III. It wasn’t even close—much worse than the 16-7 final score indicated.

Dawson was sitting among a group of NFL loyalists. As the game went on, and as the Jets’ destiny was evident, it was all he could do to contain his glee. Dawson was an NFL castoff, foundering with the Pittsburgh Steelers when Stram plucked him off the scrap heap.

“Hank Stram saved my pro career,” Dawson has said.

So while the Jets were humiliating the Colts, Dawson bided his time.

Finally, he could contain himself no longer.

Sometime in the fourth quarter, Dawson stood up, proudly, among the NFL folks.

“Well, well,” he crowed, “what do you think of the American Football League NOW?”

Ah, but it was a fluke. A blind squirrel finding a nut. The Colts were overconfident. If the two teams played again, the Jets would surely go down.

Dawson and his AFL brethren had to hear that for a year.

Such was the stage when Dawson, in uniform now, and the Chiefs made it back to the Big One—Super Bowl IV in New Orleans to face the Minnesota Vikings in January 1970—40 years ago and some change.

The Vikings, like the Colts before them, seemed unstoppable. They breezed through the NFL with a 12-2 record, then demolished the Cleveland Browns in the NFL Championship Game, 27-7.

Despite the Jets’ victory one year prior, the Chiefs were still “just” an AFL team. They had no chance against the mighty Vikings.

What is it they say about the fate of those who forget history?

As Stram—now famously miked up for NFL Films—hooted and hollered on the sidelines, the quarterback he rescued from the NFL’s trash bin and his 10 offensive teammates razzle-dazzled and powered their way around and through the vaunted Vikings defense.

The Chiefs won, 23-7.

Who was foolish now?

Al Davis was the AFL’s last commissioner. And he was smelling blood. The two leagues had already announced a merger, partly designed to put an end to the talent war that was escalating faster than anything the United States and the Russians were engaged in at the time.

But after the AFL won the IIIrd and IVth Super Bowls, Davis, who was opposed to the merger to begin with—a merger that was agreed to behind his back—snarled.

“Davis thought the AFL had its boot on the NFL’s throat,” Scotty Stirling, a Raiders executive at the time, recalled to the NFL Network. “And he didn’t want to let up. He thought the AFL could have brought the NFL to its knees.”

But the merger was already a done deal, and the two leagues joined forces for the 1970 season. The 10 AFL teams, plus the NFL’s Colts, Steelers, and Browns, formed the American Football Conference.

Two years later, some NFL people were still showing themselves to be slow learners.

The Miami Dolphins, born in 1966 to the AFL, finished the first 14-0 season in history. They advanced to Super Bowl VI with a 16-0 record. Their opponents were the NFL-rich Washington Redskins.

On the cab ride to the stadium, radio host Larry King rode with bookmaker Jimmy “The Greek” Snyder. King noted that The Greek had instilled the 11-3 Redskins as a three-point favorite over the undefeated Dolphins.

How could that be, King, a Dolphins fan and ever inquisitive, wanted to know.

“You’re still the AFL,” Snyder told him.

The Dolphins won. Easily. Then they won the next year, too—also easily.

To this day, you won’t find a group of workers more respectful of their roots than the American Football League players and coaches. Even after years of playing in the NFL, those whose pro football careers began in the AFL will always consider themselves “AFL guys.”

Forty years ago, in New Orleans, the AFL squared the Super Bowl series with the NFL at two wins apiece. And, as Davis says, they might have kept it up, had the merger not been in place.

The fools rushed in, after all.

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!!

Packers Were In A Giving Mood When They Picked Mandarich

(every Friday during the NFL season, OOB will run a nostalgic feature about the Lions' upcoming opponents)



Much has been made, especially this week, of the Lions' failure to win in Wisconsin since 1991. The pundits have rued the day the Pack traded for QB Brett Favre in 1992, which just so happened to coincide with the streak. Even Lions kicker Jason Hanson is wondering if the streak somehow has to do with him -- since Hanson was a rookie in '92 and has experienced every single loss on the road to the Packers.

But you don't hear nearly as much about a gift the Packers presented the Lions with in 1989 -- one that gave Lions fans just about the only reason to get excited about their team for the ten seasons spanning 1989 to 1998.

It was April, 1989. The NFL Draft. Barry Sanders was the jitterbug running back from Oklahoma State who also returned kicks and who was coming out of college a couple years early to try his hand at pro football. The Lions had just committed to the Run-n-Shoot offense -- that scheme that involved four pass receivers running around the field at all times, and one lone running back. The change came about because the previous year, in explaining why he finally fired coach Darryl Rogers, Lions owner Bill Ford Sr. said, "We're losing and we're boring."

So the Lions decided that if they were going to lose, they were going to be as exciting as possible in doing so. They had the Shoot part covered -- at least in terms of quantity. But they needed the Run component.

Enter the Packers' generosity.

As dazzling as Sanders was, as seemingly unlimited his potential seemed, the Packers had their eyes on a hulk of an offensive tackle, right in the Lions' backyard, in East Lansing.

Tony Mandarich was the biggest thing -- literally -- to come out of Michigan State University in years. He was considered the best OL prospect to come down the pike in recent memory. The Packers had fantasies of Mandarich anchoring the left side of their line for at least the next ten years. They could always pick up a running back later.

So the Pack, with the no. 1 overall pick, snatched Mandarich off the board. The Lions heaved a sigh of relief.




Barry Sanders became a Lion, thanks to the Packers' misguided selection of Mandarich, who would soon be derailed by a steroids scandal and gross under performance. The Packers got one of the biggest draft busts in history. The Lions got a Hall of Famer.

I remember being ecstatic when the Packers picked Mandarich. My opinion was the 180 degree opposite of Green Bay's: when a talent like Sanders comes down the pike, you take him. You can always pick an offensive lineman later.

Sanders held out through training camp and the exhibition season that rookie year, haggling over his contract. Don't forget that this was still the Russ Thomas Era. Thomas, the Lions' GM, wouldn't retire until the end of '89. And he was still in charge of contract negotiations, a big reason why Sanders didn't get signed until just a couple days before the season opener. Then, with virtually no practice, having not played in a football game in about nine months, Sanders simply took his first NFL carry for 19 yards. A legend was underway.

Of course, the Packers had the last laugh. Three years after the Mandarich miss, Favre came to Green Bay, from the Atlanta Falcons. What soon followed were playoff appearances, conference championship games, and eventually two Super Bowls, including a win in SB XXXI. Oh, and those 17 straight wins over the Lions at home.

It'll be 20 years, believe it or not, come next April when the Lions have the no. 1 overall pick in the 2009 Draft, since the Packers overlooked Barry Sanders and took Tony Mandarich. After a potential 0-16 season, heaven help us if the Lions repeat the Packers' mistake of that '89 Draft.

Sorry.

Phil Who?: Bengston Victim Of Bad Timing, Luck With Pack

(every Friday during the NFL season, OOB will run a nostalgic feature about the Lions' upcoming opponents)



They are some of the most well-known names in modern football history, for various reasons.

Vince Lombardi: really nothing else need be said. The league's championship trophy is named after him -- and that's just for starters.

Dan Devine: Extremely successful college coach -- at Missouri and Notre Dame -- who often gets overlooked because of the Bear Bryants and Bo Schembechlers of the world.

Bart Starr: Hall of Fame quarterback -- the field general of all those great Packers teams in the 1960s.

Forrest Gregg: A key cog of those bruising o-lines during the '60s dynasty.

Mike Holmgren: Quietly has built a case for his own Hall of Fame induction someday, as a coach.

All of the above men have been head coach of the Green Bay Packers. If you look at the list, which is chronological, you'll see that the best of the lot are the top and bottom of a sandwich, which within contains the likes of Devine, Starr, and Gregg.

But wait -- we're forgetting someone.

Ray Rhodes? Well, yes, Rhodes came between Holmgren and Mike Sherman, for one year. But that's not who I'm talking about.

Lindy Infante? You mean the last coach before Holmgren and Brett Favre arrived in the Bay? Well, yes, there was Lindy, but this post isn't about him, either.

I'm talking about Phil Bengston.

You're more than excused for your furrowed brow and your "WHO?"; I understand.

Bengston was Yankees right field after Babe Ruth; Red Wings right wing after Gordie Howe; Bulls shooting guard after Michael Jordan.

But in truth, Bengston was the Packers' coach after Lombardi.

Not a tough act to follow, eh?

The Packers were coming off their third straight NFL championship -- and second straight Super Bowl win -- when Lombardi retired and moved into the GM's chair. For the '68 season, Lombardi announced that Bengston, one of his assistants, would take the helm on the sidelines.

But the Packers were an aging team who maybe didn't accord Bengston the same respect and benefit of doubt that they would have for the coach if Lombardi had stuck around.













Bengston (right) was the luckless Lombardi assistant tabbed to replace the legendary coach in 1968


Bengston was head coach of the Packers from 1968-1970, and in those three years, the team went 20-21-1. In the glory years, it would have taken the Packers seven or eight seasons to lose 21 games; Bengston's teams managed to do it in three. His quiet, low-key style was not only a stark contrast from Lombardi's, but it did nothing to ingratiate the veterans to him, many of whom felt Bengston was in over his head. In 1971, he was replaced by Devine, who came over from Missouri. By '72, Devine had led the Packers into the playoffs, behind a marketing campaign of "The Pack is Back." Devine was also blessed with following Phil Bengston instead of Vince Lombardi.

By the way, Starr and Gregg proved to be far better players than coaches, but then again, that's not unusual in pro sports. So it's not surprising that Lombardi and Holmgren, the top and bottom of that aforementioned coaching sandwich, were highly successful coaches who were nondescript players, for the most part.

Bengston resurfaced as interim coach of the 1972 Patriots -- a far easier act to follow. He died in 1994 at the age of 81.

Selfish Favre Can't Be Given A Pass On This One

Summer, 2003. The Red Wings, fresh off a first-round playoff defeat at the hands of the Anaheim Mighty Ducks, were presented with a quandary. Their former no. 1 goalie, a certain Hall of Famer, decided that he had enough of reitrement after one season and wanted his old job back. And the Red Wings, with a very expensive replacement, himself a maybe Hall of Famer, were in a sticky situation.

Bring Dominik Hasek back, or let him sign with another team? Hasek made it clear that he wanted back into the NHL, with the Red Wings or anyone who'd have him. And the replacement, Curtis Joseph, wasn't exactly chopped liver. And he for sure wasn't the reason the Ducks beat the Wings -- that could be blamed on the super-human play of Anaheim goalie J-S Giguere.

General manager Ken Holland told me, back in early 2006 during an interview, that Red Wings brass was very afraid that Hasek was going to sign elsewhere -- specifically, Colorado. The Avs were rumored to have interest in Hasek, to replace the retired Patrick Roy. And the idea of Hasek, dressed in Avs maroon and blue, beating them in the playoffs in the spring of 2004 was simply too ghoulish to monkey with, according to Holland. So Hasek returned to the Red Wings, disharmony in the locker room ensued as the two high-priced netminders never got along. And the Wings were blasted out in the second round of the '04 playoffs, Hasek never coming close to playing in the post-season due to one of his many groin injuries. But the damage had been done.

The Green Bay Packers are in a similar situation this morning, though the replacement in their case is hardly a Hall of Famer. In fact, he's never started an NFL game.

It used to not be fashionable to diss Brett Favre -- at least not for anything off the field. While he may have been prone to the occasional ill-timed interception (what QB isn't, really?), there wasn't really anything to criticize him about as far as his work ethic, character, or his being a good teammate.

But now it is time to question Favre -- mainly his selfishness.

I have done the same in the past about Hasek -- maintaining that his damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead mentality when it came to returning to the NHL was overriding what was best for Curtis Joseph and the Detroit Red Wings. And, in essence, that made his selfishness less than admirable. "I'm coming back, so get the hell out of my way," in other words.

Kind of like what Brett Favre told the Packers, coming out of retirement with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop.

Favre has reported to the Packers, and just because he didn't do it wearing a mask and brandishing a gun doesn't mean it didn't have the same heavy-handedness.

Poor Aaron Rodgers. On the precipice of finally taking over the reins at QB in Green Bay, after three seasons of clipboard holding and baseball cap wearing. Now here comes Favre, five months after his retirement announcement, in camp and "competing" for the starter's job.

Poor Mark Murphy, the Pack's president. It would seem that he took the path of least resistance by allowing Favre to report, as opposed to trying to trade him, or fighting his return. But there was really no path of least resistance here, because with Favre in camp, the circus-like atmosphere around Packers camp is only going to get goofier.

Poor Mike McCarthy, the Packers coach. He had, for months, formulated plans that included Rodgers as his quarterback. Just as when Favre was the starter, McCarthy figured on no quarterback controversy -- Rodgers was clearly the no. 1 guy. Now the coach has to juggle -- an appropriate word because of the big top covering Packers camp right now.

Ahh, but no one is saying poor Brett Favre, and nor should they, for he is the one who has caused all the upheaval. I have said it before, and I'll say it again: is this how it will be every year? Brett Favre calls the shots, and retires/un-retires, depending on his mood? And the Packers are to hold the starting QB job open for him, even during the first week of training camp? When does it end? How can the Packers believe him, the next time Favre "retires"?

Favre clearly cares about no one other than Brett Favre, at least in this instance. There's no question that HE believes firmly that he gives the Packers the best chance to win, as opposed to Rodgers. From a purely football perspective, he might be right; it's not like Favre fell off the map in 2007. His performance was outstanding for a man of his age. But this isn't about just what goes on between the sidelines; it's about other people, other feelings, other intangibles. And all are being disrupted while Favre un-retires. Yet Favre doesn't seem to care about that. All he cares about is what's good for Brett Favre. And what's good for Favre isn't necessarily what's good for the Packers -- either now or in the long run.