I had the pleasure of driving home last night from work and listening to Philadelphia's 97.5 FM sports talk. The host featured clips from Mike Missanelli's interviews with Charles Barkley over the years, and there were some hilarious quotes. Charles waxed eloquent on his poor supporting cast when he played in Philadelphia (among them Charles Shackleford and Armon Gilliam) his views on giving autographs while in a restaurant, and when to do so and about stopping giving money to relatives. I wish I had a "best of" podcast that I could download and take on my next long flight, as they were that funny.
And that got me to remembering a story about Charles, Rick Mahorn and the late Manute Bol. I won't tell the story here, but suffice it to say that this link does it some (if not total) justice (as the video "ruins" a potential surprise).
There is a broader, grander celebration planned for the "best player of all time" -- Michael Jordan, but perhaps there should be the roast to end all roasts for perhaps the most quotable and hilarious player of all time, Charles Barkley.
Happy 50th, Charles!
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
And the Olympics Kept Cycling Because. . .
The IOC has determined to eliminate wrestling from the Olympic Games, a sport that took place in the ancient olympics, too. You can read about the decision here.
Okay, so wrestling isn't all that viewer friendly. But, then again, about 30 years ago boxing was and captivated the audience, especially during the Cold War. The interest in boxing fell off -- at least in the U.S. -- during the summer games in South Korea in 1988, where Roy Jones, Jr. was so ripped off that boxing as an Olympic sport lost all credibility. Boxing's popularity is way down, too. The U.S. networks used to emphasize gymnastics, boxing, track and field and basketball. Boxing in recent years has been nowhere to be seen.
Wrestling hasn't been a popular viewing sport, either, but the tradition is there. Hasn't it also been cleaner than cycling, which has done more laundry publicly about its dirt than the next three sports combined? Since that's the case, why is cycling still an Olympic sport? Perhaps it is more aesthetically pleasing, but is that the real reason?
With the IOC, though, you never know. It was hard to get a straight answer out of the cycling world for years, as it's been hard to get a straight and reasonable answer from the IOC for years, either.
Wrestlers of the world, unite!
You can kick the rear ends of the average cyclist any day of the week.
If you can catch them.
Okay, so wrestling isn't all that viewer friendly. But, then again, about 30 years ago boxing was and captivated the audience, especially during the Cold War. The interest in boxing fell off -- at least in the U.S. -- during the summer games in South Korea in 1988, where Roy Jones, Jr. was so ripped off that boxing as an Olympic sport lost all credibility. Boxing's popularity is way down, too. The U.S. networks used to emphasize gymnastics, boxing, track and field and basketball. Boxing in recent years has been nowhere to be seen.
Wrestling hasn't been a popular viewing sport, either, but the tradition is there. Hasn't it also been cleaner than cycling, which has done more laundry publicly about its dirt than the next three sports combined? Since that's the case, why is cycling still an Olympic sport? Perhaps it is more aesthetically pleasing, but is that the real reason?
With the IOC, though, you never know. It was hard to get a straight answer out of the cycling world for years, as it's been hard to get a straight and reasonable answer from the IOC for years, either.
Wrestlers of the world, unite!
You can kick the rear ends of the average cyclist any day of the week.
If you can catch them.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Recently Seen on Netflix: "The Jay DeMerit Story"
The documentary has a better title than that, but it's about the former Watford player and U.S. National Team member Jay DeMerit, and how he made his way to play for a team in England's Premiership (he's now the captain of MLS's Vancouver Whitecaps). DeMerit's story is nothing short of amazing, a lesson in persistence, self-belief and determination. All the while, he seems like a likeable guy, someone you'd root for, because somewhere along the line he just "forgot" to listen to people who thought that a kid from Wisconsin, unrecruited out of high school, via University of Illinois at Chicago (where he landed because his high school coach knew the coach there), who helped lead them to the NCAA tournament, ends up in Europe with an English friend, knocking on doors of clubs, failing, ending up trying to latch on with a pub team (the lowest of England's soccer ranks, earning about 40 pounds a week and living with his friend, his family and their dog in a three-bedroom house on a mattress in the attic), gets a tryout with Watford, plays well, gets a contract, and helps them get to a spot where they play Leeds in a playoff game to get into the Premiership, a game worth about 70 million pounds to the winner, and, well, just rent the thing and watch it or show it to your kids because this is a guy who had a vision and a dream and kept at it, because it's what he absolutely loves to do.
Okay, so I liked the documentary, and it was good to watch on a miserable weather weekend.
Enjoy!
Okay, so I liked the documentary, and it was good to watch on a miserable weather weekend.
Enjoy!
Saturday, February 09, 2013
Yale 69 Princeton 65 at Jadwin Gymnasium (Subtitle: Yale's Head Coach, James Jones, is a Coaching Genius)
I was sitting in the stands before the game, digesting an undistinguished meatball sub from the Backcourt Bistro, when Yale coach James Jones walked by. I got his attention and said to him, "Coach, I'm a Princeton fan, but I love the way you coach." He was gracious, thanked me and kept going -- after all, he had a game to coach. (Here's the recap from ESPN).
The reason I love the way that Coach Jones coaches is that he always tries to outwit his opponent and frequently does. He might not get the "stars" that other Ivies do, but he does the best with who he gets, plays about 8 guys 25 minutes a game (I'm exaggerating a bit), and is big on strategy. Tonight, 7 Yalies scored more than 6 points, and someone forgot to tell them that the were playing about .350 basketball for the season and should have lost to Princeton.
Instead, Jones outcoached Mitch Henderson, the Bulldogs were better prepared, and they wanted it more. (Okay, there was some horrible officiating at times from the youngest ref on the floor, who blew several travel calls and a goaltending), but. . .
1. Jones showed his acumen early by having the Bulldogs come out in a full-court zone trap. The reason for this was simple -- the Tigers play only a single guard (Yale had as many as four on the floor at once). So, they made the Tigers work to get the ball up the floor, and typically Princeton took 8-9 seconds to cross the time line. Edge: Jones.
2. Princeton looked somewhat lost against the Yale zone. Instead of crisp passing constantly and bounce passes to get the ball inside, they looked lost at times, throwing the ball away, forcing it in and dribbling against it too much.
3. Jones also showed his acumen against the Princeton zone. Yale was a perpetual motion machine, using their quickness to throw passes over and behind the Princeton zone. How many points inside the paint did the smaller Yale team get? How many rebounds and second chances? Jones made the bigger Princeton team look like their feet were stuck in molasses and leaden. It's hard to make a lack of height work to your advantage, but Jones did so for Yale tonight.
4. Yale had the "gottawannahaveit" much more than Princeton tonight. Sorry, Tigers, but they rebounded better, defended better, and Princeton's inside help defense was sporadic at best and sieve-like at worst. They should have been an iron dome against the Yale offense, and they were not. To Princeton's credit, Yale shot the lights out in the first half and the Tigers came out of halftime and ultimately took the lead, but Yale held in there, stuck to its game plan and executed better than Princeton.
5. Among Princeton's problems tonight -- 1) only T.J. Bray is a bona fide ball handler and no one else really could help him against the Yale trap. 2) The Princeton bigs did a bad job on the boards and overall defensively (as to the latter, their help defense was not good all night and they looked slow). 3) While Ian Hummer put up good numbers and helped lead the rally early in the second half, he made numerous mistakes with less than 7 minutes to go that resulted in turnovers. Perhaps he was selfish, but the better explanation was that no one else really was stepping up outside him and soph Denton Koon at that time. 4) None of Brandon Connelly, Will Barrett, Mack Darrow or Hans Brase did much memorable on defense. 5) Barrett shot the lights out so to speak and helped keep the Tigers in the game, and soph Denton Koon is a potential future Ivy Player of the Year. 6) The Tigers need more guard play. Other Ivies will see the Yale film and use their entire bench to trap and pressure Bray and the Tigers. 7) The Tigers didn't seem to have any answers for Yale's strategy. The culmination of the frustration was when Princeton had the ball with about 30 seconds to go down 2 and passed the ball around the perimeter and turned it over with three seconds left without getting a shot off. That's a tribute to Yale's defense, but it's also testimony to Princeton's confusion tonight.
James Jones did what I thought/feared he would do tonight. He came up with a strategy to beat Princeton. It took everything he had, but he did it -- on offense, on defense, and with the energy his team showed tonight.
Someone forgot to tell the Yale Bulldogs they weren't supposed to win tonight.
James Jones told them that they were.
The reason I love the way that Coach Jones coaches is that he always tries to outwit his opponent and frequently does. He might not get the "stars" that other Ivies do, but he does the best with who he gets, plays about 8 guys 25 minutes a game (I'm exaggerating a bit), and is big on strategy. Tonight, 7 Yalies scored more than 6 points, and someone forgot to tell them that the were playing about .350 basketball for the season and should have lost to Princeton.
Instead, Jones outcoached Mitch Henderson, the Bulldogs were better prepared, and they wanted it more. (Okay, there was some horrible officiating at times from the youngest ref on the floor, who blew several travel calls and a goaltending), but. . .
1. Jones showed his acumen early by having the Bulldogs come out in a full-court zone trap. The reason for this was simple -- the Tigers play only a single guard (Yale had as many as four on the floor at once). So, they made the Tigers work to get the ball up the floor, and typically Princeton took 8-9 seconds to cross the time line. Edge: Jones.
2. Princeton looked somewhat lost against the Yale zone. Instead of crisp passing constantly and bounce passes to get the ball inside, they looked lost at times, throwing the ball away, forcing it in and dribbling against it too much.
3. Jones also showed his acumen against the Princeton zone. Yale was a perpetual motion machine, using their quickness to throw passes over and behind the Princeton zone. How many points inside the paint did the smaller Yale team get? How many rebounds and second chances? Jones made the bigger Princeton team look like their feet were stuck in molasses and leaden. It's hard to make a lack of height work to your advantage, but Jones did so for Yale tonight.
4. Yale had the "gottawannahaveit" much more than Princeton tonight. Sorry, Tigers, but they rebounded better, defended better, and Princeton's inside help defense was sporadic at best and sieve-like at worst. They should have been an iron dome against the Yale offense, and they were not. To Princeton's credit, Yale shot the lights out in the first half and the Tigers came out of halftime and ultimately took the lead, but Yale held in there, stuck to its game plan and executed better than Princeton.
5. Among Princeton's problems tonight -- 1) only T.J. Bray is a bona fide ball handler and no one else really could help him against the Yale trap. 2) The Princeton bigs did a bad job on the boards and overall defensively (as to the latter, their help defense was not good all night and they looked slow). 3) While Ian Hummer put up good numbers and helped lead the rally early in the second half, he made numerous mistakes with less than 7 minutes to go that resulted in turnovers. Perhaps he was selfish, but the better explanation was that no one else really was stepping up outside him and soph Denton Koon at that time. 4) None of Brandon Connelly, Will Barrett, Mack Darrow or Hans Brase did much memorable on defense. 5) Barrett shot the lights out so to speak and helped keep the Tigers in the game, and soph Denton Koon is a potential future Ivy Player of the Year. 6) The Tigers need more guard play. Other Ivies will see the Yale film and use their entire bench to trap and pressure Bray and the Tigers. 7) The Tigers didn't seem to have any answers for Yale's strategy. The culmination of the frustration was when Princeton had the ball with about 30 seconds to go down 2 and passed the ball around the perimeter and turned it over with three seconds left without getting a shot off. That's a tribute to Yale's defense, but it's also testimony to Princeton's confusion tonight.
James Jones did what I thought/feared he would do tonight. He came up with a strategy to beat Princeton. It took everything he had, but he did it -- on offense, on defense, and with the energy his team showed tonight.
Someone forgot to tell the Yale Bulldogs they weren't supposed to win tonight.
James Jones told them that they were.
Thursday, February 07, 2013
U.S. Loses First Game in World Cup Qualifier. . . to Honduras
Yikes.
Just goes to show you when a tiny nation focuses on one main thing and a huge nation does not.
You can read about the details here.
Sure, we can't win everything and perhaps we shouldn't. But a loss like this underscores the point that U.S. soccer still has a long way to go. Until the top 100 U.S. players populate the rosters of top teams throughout Europe, get meaningful playing time and star, the U.S. will continue to qualify for the World Cup, lurch in at say a #22 ranking in the world, perhaps get through the group stage and then lose in the Round of 16.
It's hard to say what the root cause is, but here are a few points:
1. The best athletes in the country do not play soccer. They play football, basketball and even baseball. So, imagine if Calvin Johnson your center back. Imagine if Chris Paul were your central attacking midfielder. And imagine if they started when they were six.
2. The kids who do play perhaps do not have the right balance of training to free play. My guess is that the nifty moves we see from Iniesta, Messi, Ronaldo and Neymar do not come from some older coach teaching them how to improvise in space. They come from time spent playing pick-up soccer without any adults present or too many rules.
3. The U.S. has a target on its back in the region because a) it's so big and b) it's trying to beat the smaller countries as their own game.
There are probably more points to consider. Makes you wonder whether the second string in places like Spain and Brazil could beat our best team.
Just goes to show you when a tiny nation focuses on one main thing and a huge nation does not.
You can read about the details here.
Sure, we can't win everything and perhaps we shouldn't. But a loss like this underscores the point that U.S. soccer still has a long way to go. Until the top 100 U.S. players populate the rosters of top teams throughout Europe, get meaningful playing time and star, the U.S. will continue to qualify for the World Cup, lurch in at say a #22 ranking in the world, perhaps get through the group stage and then lose in the Round of 16.
It's hard to say what the root cause is, but here are a few points:
1. The best athletes in the country do not play soccer. They play football, basketball and even baseball. So, imagine if Calvin Johnson your center back. Imagine if Chris Paul were your central attacking midfielder. And imagine if they started when they were six.
2. The kids who do play perhaps do not have the right balance of training to free play. My guess is that the nifty moves we see from Iniesta, Messi, Ronaldo and Neymar do not come from some older coach teaching them how to improvise in space. They come from time spent playing pick-up soccer without any adults present or too many rules.
3. The U.S. has a target on its back in the region because a) it's so big and b) it's trying to beat the smaller countries as their own game.
There are probably more points to consider. Makes you wonder whether the second string in places like Spain and Brazil could beat our best team.
Wednesday, February 06, 2013
As the Electoral College Goes, So Goes.. . College Football Recruiting?
About 40 years ago, Philadelphia had five Congressional districts, none of which overlapped with any municipality in the four counties that surround it. Today, Philadelphia has two members of the U.S. House of Representatives, each of whose districts covers suburban municipalities as well. Pennsylvania also has many fewer seats in the U.S. House. This results from a few factors -- an aging population (by some accounts, Pennsylvania, next to Florida, is the "grayest" state in the nation), stagnant or extinct economies in certain parts of the state (for example, coal and steel production aren't what they once were, with the result that there are fewer families in those regions and fewer kids trying to "escape" a life in the mines or mills and the growth of populaton in other regions (namely, California, Texas and Florida). As this article tells us, that means that Pennsylvania is not the fertile ground for recruiting college football players the way it once was.
That's not a huge surprise to us veteran Pennsylvanians (and we didn't really think that Philadelphia, proper, or the surrounding counties were all that fertile even back then). Sure, there was the great Leroy Kelly, who played running back for the Browns by way of the Philadelphia Public League, Marvin Harrison, who played for Roman Catholic, and Matt Ryan, who played for Penn Charter. Perhaps that's a good statistical representation unless you compare it to, say, Pahokee, Florida. But apparently the number of Division 1 recruits from Pennsylvania now doesn't even make the top 10.
And it used to, especially when you consider kids from the coal regions in the northeastern part of the state and the steel regions out west. The names are legendary -- Dorsett, Ditka, Marino, Montana, among many others. It's just that there are not as many of those types of players as there used to be.
Could it be that it's expensive for a school district to run a program? (The article reports that in some districts kids are asked to pay a fee to play). Could it be that kids have to work after school? Could it be that for what's asked of the kids, an increasing number of parents believe that the game is too dangerous. Or could it be that kids are playing other sports, whether real ones, such as soccer, or pretend ones, like anything EA Sports puts out for the Play Stations or XBox?
The linked article is as much a discussion of what happened to some of these feeder towns such as Shamokin, up in Pennsylvania's coal country, as it is about the lure of the game itself (or the lack thereof). Perhaps it's also not all that compelling, as the theme of the article isn't all that new. What would be more interesting is to examine the overall population of kids and see what year-to-year numbers are for matriculation in football, soccer, lacrosse and other sports and whether, in certain sports, travel programs are cannibalizing school programs.
I don't know what the morale of the story is, except a) to enjoy the "Glory Days" when they're glorious and b) to help foster an environment where the possibility for "Glory Days" lies in the present and the future, and not just in the increasingly distant past, when excitement constantly filled the atmosphere. Good memories are important to have.
As are outstanding current experiences.
That's not a huge surprise to us veteran Pennsylvanians (and we didn't really think that Philadelphia, proper, or the surrounding counties were all that fertile even back then). Sure, there was the great Leroy Kelly, who played running back for the Browns by way of the Philadelphia Public League, Marvin Harrison, who played for Roman Catholic, and Matt Ryan, who played for Penn Charter. Perhaps that's a good statistical representation unless you compare it to, say, Pahokee, Florida. But apparently the number of Division 1 recruits from Pennsylvania now doesn't even make the top 10.
And it used to, especially when you consider kids from the coal regions in the northeastern part of the state and the steel regions out west. The names are legendary -- Dorsett, Ditka, Marino, Montana, among many others. It's just that there are not as many of those types of players as there used to be.
Could it be that it's expensive for a school district to run a program? (The article reports that in some districts kids are asked to pay a fee to play). Could it be that kids have to work after school? Could it be that for what's asked of the kids, an increasing number of parents believe that the game is too dangerous. Or could it be that kids are playing other sports, whether real ones, such as soccer, or pretend ones, like anything EA Sports puts out for the Play Stations or XBox?
The linked article is as much a discussion of what happened to some of these feeder towns such as Shamokin, up in Pennsylvania's coal country, as it is about the lure of the game itself (or the lack thereof). Perhaps it's also not all that compelling, as the theme of the article isn't all that new. What would be more interesting is to examine the overall population of kids and see what year-to-year numbers are for matriculation in football, soccer, lacrosse and other sports and whether, in certain sports, travel programs are cannibalizing school programs.
I don't know what the morale of the story is, except a) to enjoy the "Glory Days" when they're glorious and b) to help foster an environment where the possibility for "Glory Days" lies in the present and the future, and not just in the increasingly distant past, when excitement constantly filled the atmosphere. Good memories are important to have.
As are outstanding current experiences.
Tuesday, February 05, 2013
The Rec League Chronicles
I've posted from time to time about my experiences coaching my son's team in the recreational basketball league. I've coached with the same friend for six years, and up until this year we won about 80% of our games. Each year, the league assigns you a time, so the only guarantees are that we get our own kids. In fourth grade, we were undefeated. In the fifth grade, we got to the finals and lost. Last year, we won 75% of our games with a small, inexperienced team and got to the Round of 8. This year. . .
The league asked for kids' height on the sign-up forms, only not to provide the heights to the age group's commissioner when he formed the teams. Some teams's members look like Harry Potter's Hagrid, while others' -- such as ours -- resemble the 7th and 8th grade versions of hoops' Lilliputians. For starters, we're small. The league then have to move two brothers -- very good players -- from our roster because of a scheduling conflict and replaced them with two very nice boy's whose abilities pale in comparison. So, when we boiled it down, we have 3 of 10 players with a solid understanding of the game, 6 of 10 who are good athletes, and 4 -- all nice kids -- who don't know the traveling rule, don't know that you have to take the ball behind the baseline after the other team scores, haven't watched much basketball and are there for the team spirit and exercise.
So how do you coach such a team with only one hour of practice a week? How do you coach a team when you are not always sure you'll get that practice, because you're hostage to the school district's calendar and with holidays and in-service days, the schools aren't always open? What do you focus on when other teams are much bigger and when they are more skilled? The league allows all types of defense, which means it's even harder to prepare, because not only might you not have practice, you also won't know whether you're facing a zone or a man-to-man defense. The league mandates that your top 3 scorers must play in the first quarter and may not play in the second quarter. Atop that, not every kid shows up for games every weekend because of other commitments or illness (which means that if an opponent were to be missing its worst 2 of its 10 players, they are at an advantage, although that can cut both ways). Finally, the league has strongly suggested that you play your best five in the second quarter, but time and time again opponents skew their lineups to have their #4 scorer play in the first quarter to help open up a lead.
Got all that?
Of course, it's the rec league, and we're not playing for titles (really, although there are playoffs) or money, we're playing for fun, for teaching the game and to encourage the kids to get better. We coaches can learn from them as much as they learn from us. Our basic premise -- at least on our team -- is to work on fundamentals, teach a few of the game's finer points and try to connect with each kid to help him improve. For the best players and the good athletes, we try to work on their team work, their "complete" game (translated: throw bounce passes, screen, make your teammates better). For those who don't know the game, we try to get them to work on something each week -- getting set for a good shot, defending better, rebounding better or moving without the ball better. Right now, we're a game below .500.
Two weeks ago, we had a tough situation. We didn't have the gym available, and we we're coming off a game where we were missing four kids, three because of flu and one because of injury. We were scheduled to play the league's best team, and a big team at that. We play four eight-minute quarters, and we lost by 21. With four and a half minutes to go, my son, our second-leading scorer in that game, sat next to me on the bench. He asked, "Dad, what are you thinking?" I responded in a whisper, "That this game cannot end fast enough." He laughed, and it was a funny father-and-son moment, but not one that I'd like to repeat. Sure, the other team was better, but we didn't help ourselves. They zoned us, and kids didn't move without the ball, they threw chest passes against the zone (many of which got intercepted), tried dribbling against the zone (sometimes going one on three, which guaranteed a bad shot or turnover) or dribbling, back first, against the zone, guaranteeing that a crafty defender could steal the ball. They also generally had trouble creating space.
It would have been one thing if we played our best and got drubbed, but that didn't happen, and because that didn't happen the game spurned on my creativity. I thought hard about the team's deficiencies and devised a practice to help address some of the shortcomings. First, I created a "dribble drive" drill, in which I had a dribble go one-on-three as far as he could against a zone we instructed to collapse, only to have him turn and find two shooters whom we stationed on the perimeter, who could rotate closer to the ball to get an open look (the dribbler was instructed to pass the ball back to the shooters). Second, we worked on some quick, bounce-passing drills, designed to have the passers make effective passes against a collapsing defense. Third, we did a pick-and-roll drill. Fourth, we worked on "jab step" and pump fake drills, designed to enable the ballhander to get his defender to take a few steps the wrong way. Fifth, we walked our players through an offensive set, instructing each with a few guiding principles regarding moving without the ball. It was a 55-minute practice, but it was the best we can do.
So what happened?
Admittedly, our opponent this past weekend wasn't as good as our opponent the prior weekend, but you play who you play. We were trailing by two near the end of the first quarter with about 10 seconds to go. My son had the ball, and we yelled to him to take it as far as he could and shoot it. So what did he do? He took it as far as he could, but pulled the "dribble drive" drill out, took a few defenders with him, penetrated near the paint, and then executed a perfect chess pass to a teammate, who nailed a three before time expired. In the second quarter, a player who the week before was prone to go one on three against a zone, hit a slashing teammate with a nifty bounce pass for a layup. And, best of all, a kid who had scored one basket all season took in all the techniques, got open and was 4-5 on three-point shot attempts. He worked to get open and shot the lights out.
How did that happen? Because each week it seemed that there were two kids -- the kid who showed flashes that he knew the game and the kid who was nonchalant, who didn't defend well, chewed gum and didn't give his best effort. So every now and then I took him aside and said, "You know the game, but you cannot expect it to come to you. You have a decent shot, but you have to work hard to get open. And if you get open, take the shot." Truth be told, his shooting style is a bit unorthodox (he shoots from over his head), and one of the shots seemed to be a bit of a brick (a laser that hit the backboard and banked -- hard -- through the hoop). No matter, because sometimes you take good shots and they go in and out. For this boy, he'll have a game to remember for the rest of his life.
As for the team, it grew the 1-point lead after one to a 9-point lead at the half, only to give most of it back after the third quarter. Then, our fundamentals kicked in. We defended better, moved without the ball well, rebounded better than all season and hit key shots when we had to, all for a comfortable victory.
Okay, so we're not the most talent team, but what the boys proved after the drubbing they took a few weeks ago is that they forgot about the bad things quickly, focused on what they needed to work on, concentrated better and won a winnable game and finished strong. There's an old saying, "practice well, play well," and I think it held true for this past weekend. The kids know that they need to improve, and we gave them some principles that they could put into motion to win a game. It was great to see the resilience after a bad week, and it was great to see the effort in practice get rewarded.
Best of all, it was great to see a wide smile from a kid we were not sure we connected with, a kid who, at least that very day, was a rec league hoops version of the "Little Engine That Could." This particular weekend, this engine believed in himself and kept believing in himself. I'd like to think that our encouragement helped, but in the end, he was the one who had to step up and make the plays. That -- and the team play -- were great to watch.
The morale of the story and the season? Do the best with what you have, play hard and don't give up. Sure, other teams might be bigger and have more talent. We cannot control that. What we can control is our will, our level of effort and our execution. That's what the kids learned this weekend, and they learned it well.
The league asked for kids' height on the sign-up forms, only not to provide the heights to the age group's commissioner when he formed the teams. Some teams's members look like Harry Potter's Hagrid, while others' -- such as ours -- resemble the 7th and 8th grade versions of hoops' Lilliputians. For starters, we're small. The league then have to move two brothers -- very good players -- from our roster because of a scheduling conflict and replaced them with two very nice boy's whose abilities pale in comparison. So, when we boiled it down, we have 3 of 10 players with a solid understanding of the game, 6 of 10 who are good athletes, and 4 -- all nice kids -- who don't know the traveling rule, don't know that you have to take the ball behind the baseline after the other team scores, haven't watched much basketball and are there for the team spirit and exercise.
So how do you coach such a team with only one hour of practice a week? How do you coach a team when you are not always sure you'll get that practice, because you're hostage to the school district's calendar and with holidays and in-service days, the schools aren't always open? What do you focus on when other teams are much bigger and when they are more skilled? The league allows all types of defense, which means it's even harder to prepare, because not only might you not have practice, you also won't know whether you're facing a zone or a man-to-man defense. The league mandates that your top 3 scorers must play in the first quarter and may not play in the second quarter. Atop that, not every kid shows up for games every weekend because of other commitments or illness (which means that if an opponent were to be missing its worst 2 of its 10 players, they are at an advantage, although that can cut both ways). Finally, the league has strongly suggested that you play your best five in the second quarter, but time and time again opponents skew their lineups to have their #4 scorer play in the first quarter to help open up a lead.
Got all that?
Of course, it's the rec league, and we're not playing for titles (really, although there are playoffs) or money, we're playing for fun, for teaching the game and to encourage the kids to get better. We coaches can learn from them as much as they learn from us. Our basic premise -- at least on our team -- is to work on fundamentals, teach a few of the game's finer points and try to connect with each kid to help him improve. For the best players and the good athletes, we try to work on their team work, their "complete" game (translated: throw bounce passes, screen, make your teammates better). For those who don't know the game, we try to get them to work on something each week -- getting set for a good shot, defending better, rebounding better or moving without the ball better. Right now, we're a game below .500.
Two weeks ago, we had a tough situation. We didn't have the gym available, and we we're coming off a game where we were missing four kids, three because of flu and one because of injury. We were scheduled to play the league's best team, and a big team at that. We play four eight-minute quarters, and we lost by 21. With four and a half minutes to go, my son, our second-leading scorer in that game, sat next to me on the bench. He asked, "Dad, what are you thinking?" I responded in a whisper, "That this game cannot end fast enough." He laughed, and it was a funny father-and-son moment, but not one that I'd like to repeat. Sure, the other team was better, but we didn't help ourselves. They zoned us, and kids didn't move without the ball, they threw chest passes against the zone (many of which got intercepted), tried dribbling against the zone (sometimes going one on three, which guaranteed a bad shot or turnover) or dribbling, back first, against the zone, guaranteeing that a crafty defender could steal the ball. They also generally had trouble creating space.
It would have been one thing if we played our best and got drubbed, but that didn't happen, and because that didn't happen the game spurned on my creativity. I thought hard about the team's deficiencies and devised a practice to help address some of the shortcomings. First, I created a "dribble drive" drill, in which I had a dribble go one-on-three as far as he could against a zone we instructed to collapse, only to have him turn and find two shooters whom we stationed on the perimeter, who could rotate closer to the ball to get an open look (the dribbler was instructed to pass the ball back to the shooters). Second, we worked on some quick, bounce-passing drills, designed to have the passers make effective passes against a collapsing defense. Third, we did a pick-and-roll drill. Fourth, we worked on "jab step" and pump fake drills, designed to enable the ballhander to get his defender to take a few steps the wrong way. Fifth, we walked our players through an offensive set, instructing each with a few guiding principles regarding moving without the ball. It was a 55-minute practice, but it was the best we can do.
So what happened?
Admittedly, our opponent this past weekend wasn't as good as our opponent the prior weekend, but you play who you play. We were trailing by two near the end of the first quarter with about 10 seconds to go. My son had the ball, and we yelled to him to take it as far as he could and shoot it. So what did he do? He took it as far as he could, but pulled the "dribble drive" drill out, took a few defenders with him, penetrated near the paint, and then executed a perfect chess pass to a teammate, who nailed a three before time expired. In the second quarter, a player who the week before was prone to go one on three against a zone, hit a slashing teammate with a nifty bounce pass for a layup. And, best of all, a kid who had scored one basket all season took in all the techniques, got open and was 4-5 on three-point shot attempts. He worked to get open and shot the lights out.
How did that happen? Because each week it seemed that there were two kids -- the kid who showed flashes that he knew the game and the kid who was nonchalant, who didn't defend well, chewed gum and didn't give his best effort. So every now and then I took him aside and said, "You know the game, but you cannot expect it to come to you. You have a decent shot, but you have to work hard to get open. And if you get open, take the shot." Truth be told, his shooting style is a bit unorthodox (he shoots from over his head), and one of the shots seemed to be a bit of a brick (a laser that hit the backboard and banked -- hard -- through the hoop). No matter, because sometimes you take good shots and they go in and out. For this boy, he'll have a game to remember for the rest of his life.
As for the team, it grew the 1-point lead after one to a 9-point lead at the half, only to give most of it back after the third quarter. Then, our fundamentals kicked in. We defended better, moved without the ball well, rebounded better than all season and hit key shots when we had to, all for a comfortable victory.
Okay, so we're not the most talent team, but what the boys proved after the drubbing they took a few weeks ago is that they forgot about the bad things quickly, focused on what they needed to work on, concentrated better and won a winnable game and finished strong. There's an old saying, "practice well, play well," and I think it held true for this past weekend. The kids know that they need to improve, and we gave them some principles that they could put into motion to win a game. It was great to see the resilience after a bad week, and it was great to see the effort in practice get rewarded.
Best of all, it was great to see a wide smile from a kid we were not sure we connected with, a kid who, at least that very day, was a rec league hoops version of the "Little Engine That Could." This particular weekend, this engine believed in himself and kept believing in himself. I'd like to think that our encouragement helped, but in the end, he was the one who had to step up and make the plays. That -- and the team play -- were great to watch.
The morale of the story and the season? Do the best with what you have, play hard and don't give up. Sure, other teams might be bigger and have more talent. We cannot control that. What we can control is our will, our level of effort and our execution. That's what the kids learned this weekend, and they learned it well.
The International Soccer Match-Fixing Scandal, the Media and the PEDs Scandals That Plague U.S. Sports
Mike Greenberg and Mike Golic talked about this on ESPN Radio this morning. Greenberg offered that if you switched the words "baseball," "basketball," or [American] "football," for soccer, this would be the biggest story/scandal in American sports history (you can go to ESPN.com and click on links regarding the involvement of a crime syndicate in Asia and the fixing of matches all over the globe, and allegedly in big tournaments, such as the World Cup, too). Greenberg and Golic agreed that because this is international soccer, though, it won't get that much attention in the United States.
Both observations are correct, but Greenberg and Golic missed a huge point, and, by doing so, underscore my point -- throughout the posts on this blog over the years -- that the sports media really consist of glorified fans and not journalists. Why? Because there were -- and probably still are -- huge scandals in the U.S. sports world that the U.S. sports media has missed and that should bother all Americans -- the pervasive use of performance-enhancing drugs.
Where were the members of the baseball media when players started showing up looking like puffed-up super heroes and were hitting ball after ball out of the park at statistically significant differentiated rates when compared to past history? Should we really have believed that Lance Armstrong was a superluminary who somehow transcended his sport when all others were either taking Epogen or blood doping? Is Major League Baseball clean now? What about Melky Cabrera and Carlos Ruiz? What about football, where there are no tests for HGH (and the continuous use of pain-killing shots before games)? It goes without saying that the head-injury scandal still plagues football, but arguably doesn't get the attention that it should, what with all the former aggrieved players walking around (if they can walk unaided and if they can remember where they are going). Baseball also had its problem with amphetamines, hockey with at least players' pumping themselves full of drugs like Sudafed before night games. Only the NBA seems clean, either becuase it is or because the attention paid to other sports eclipses any attention it might otherwise get from those who choose to cover it.
Yes, it's fun to cover games, to be at events, to be inside the stadium, to have access to those who "make it happen." It's also uncomfortable to create confrontation by asking the skeptical question -- a reporter risks ostracization, ridicule and perhaps even assault. No one, also, wants to go through life being a skeptic, questioning premises, because it can lead to becoming a cynic and wondering if anything is worth it, even the simple act of getting out of bed in the morning. Done the right way, though, these reporters can do more than just tell us who won, who lost and what special sauce an offensive coordinator cooked up for the game plan. There are layers of stories out there, and, over the course of the past quarter century, the sports media have missed most of them, at least in real time.
The world soccer match-fixing scandal is a huge story, and credit should be given to those who have dug hard to unearth it. That's what good journalists do. We all know who won the World Cup in 2010 -- we all have eyes, we all can watch TV. But there were suspicious calls back then, too, including in a game involving the U.S. where one or two obvious bad calls were made. My guess is that that game, as well as some others, will emerge among the questioned. It is shocking.
At least as shocking at the roster of venerated baseball writers who somehow missed the fact that Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire ended up with physiques resembling those of linebackers and offensive linemen, and not the skinnier home run hitters of a decade earlier. That was dishonor -- to all of baseball tradition and its cherished records and its loyal fans.
Just as this is.
Both observations are correct, but Greenberg and Golic missed a huge point, and, by doing so, underscore my point -- throughout the posts on this blog over the years -- that the sports media really consist of glorified fans and not journalists. Why? Because there were -- and probably still are -- huge scandals in the U.S. sports world that the U.S. sports media has missed and that should bother all Americans -- the pervasive use of performance-enhancing drugs.
Where were the members of the baseball media when players started showing up looking like puffed-up super heroes and were hitting ball after ball out of the park at statistically significant differentiated rates when compared to past history? Should we really have believed that Lance Armstrong was a superluminary who somehow transcended his sport when all others were either taking Epogen or blood doping? Is Major League Baseball clean now? What about Melky Cabrera and Carlos Ruiz? What about football, where there are no tests for HGH (and the continuous use of pain-killing shots before games)? It goes without saying that the head-injury scandal still plagues football, but arguably doesn't get the attention that it should, what with all the former aggrieved players walking around (if they can walk unaided and if they can remember where they are going). Baseball also had its problem with amphetamines, hockey with at least players' pumping themselves full of drugs like Sudafed before night games. Only the NBA seems clean, either becuase it is or because the attention paid to other sports eclipses any attention it might otherwise get from those who choose to cover it.
Yes, it's fun to cover games, to be at events, to be inside the stadium, to have access to those who "make it happen." It's also uncomfortable to create confrontation by asking the skeptical question -- a reporter risks ostracization, ridicule and perhaps even assault. No one, also, wants to go through life being a skeptic, questioning premises, because it can lead to becoming a cynic and wondering if anything is worth it, even the simple act of getting out of bed in the morning. Done the right way, though, these reporters can do more than just tell us who won, who lost and what special sauce an offensive coordinator cooked up for the game plan. There are layers of stories out there, and, over the course of the past quarter century, the sports media have missed most of them, at least in real time.
The world soccer match-fixing scandal is a huge story, and credit should be given to those who have dug hard to unearth it. That's what good journalists do. We all know who won the World Cup in 2010 -- we all have eyes, we all can watch TV. But there were suspicious calls back then, too, including in a game involving the U.S. where one or two obvious bad calls were made. My guess is that that game, as well as some others, will emerge among the questioned. It is shocking.
At least as shocking at the roster of venerated baseball writers who somehow missed the fact that Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire ended up with physiques resembling those of linebackers and offensive linemen, and not the skinnier home run hitters of a decade earlier. That was dishonor -- to all of baseball tradition and its cherished records and its loyal fans.
Just as this is.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
"I Played Football So You Don't Have To."
Think about that quote. And then, depending on how old you are, think about the days when boxing was one of the most popular sports and you heard that refrain from boxers. That fighting was their way out of bad situations, so they fought so that their families could have a better life. If you're old enough, you'll remember the discourse.
Fast forward to current times and what President Obama said in his interview with New Republic regarding whether, if he had a son, he'd encourage him to play football. Obama, in essence, said that he worried that the game wasn't safe enough. Predictably, many NFL players have said that they would encourage their kids, that it's a great game, either builds or reveals character, that they didn't sign up for tennis. But one of the greatest of the current generation agrees with the President. And the quote in the headline, pretty much (I might not have gotten it verbatim) is his.
Future Hall of Fame safety Ed Reed of the Baltimore Ravens.
It's certainly a memorable one. And a powerful one. It's a statement, in essence, to his son, whom he won't encourage to play football.
And that speaks volumes. Because aside from the glory, not everyone makes big money. Not everyone is set for life. Most NFL players have careers of 3.5 years or less. Many end up broke, divorced or depressed within five years after their careers end. Many notables end up with serious health issues, including mental health issues, either at a young age (a University of Pennsylvania football player who took his own life a few years ago -- post-mortem tests indicated the type of brain diseases found in people like former Eagles' safety Andre Waters, who took his own life in his late forties), middle age (Junior Seau) or old age (such as, among many others, former Colts' tight end John Mackey.
It isn't easy to figure out why everyone chooses a profession. Do you do it because it's glamorous, lucrative, it's what your father and his father did, someone said you were good at it or should try it, someone you admired did it, it was the best alternative, what have you? But beneath the pageantry and the glamorous year is a significant amount of wreckage, the detritus of an American culture that doesn't always account for the damage in preparation for, or after, the glorified events take place, especially football.
John Adams once said something to the effect that one should teach his children to be doctors and lawyers and teachers so that their children can be artists and musicians. Perhaps Ed Reed is thinking along similar lines -- do the job that you can make the most money at -- no matter how tough -- so that you can provide better, less violent opportunities for your kids. Funny, because perhaps while many lawyers might fantasize what it might be like to be an NFL player, perhaps one NFL player is hoping that his son takes a job that involves indoor work without heavy lifting.
Back to the issue at hand -- the violent nature of the game. The purists decry the "new" rules, saying that football is becoming touch football, too offense-oriented, and that defenders cannot hit anyone any more. The challengers contend that how can we glorify a sport that has left so much visible human wreckage with the potential to leave a lot more (because many current and former players have not manifested symptoms of brain decay)? Give the President credit for underscoring an important set of facts that probably hasn't gotten the full attention that it deserves, precisely because the American viewing public doesn't want to acknowledge that there's a flip, ugly side to their favorite game. But the facts will persist, and they probably will increase.
And then how will we feel when the neighborhood kid we coached in little league baseball shows up outside the local convenience store in his mid-twenties acting weird, unable to finish college or hold a job, because he gave the town glory on Friday nights? Will we offer him a ride, a meal, a place to live? Or will we walk by, nod, and thank our lucky stars than when our boys asked to play football, we had the sense to say no, or that our boys weren't interested.
This issue goes far beyond the NFL and into the local ranks. That there are no easy answers doesn't mean that there isn't a problem.
Just ask the several thousand or so NFL players who are suing the league in federal court because of their physical and mental problems, which, they argue, derive from their having played football at the highest level.
Fast forward to current times and what President Obama said in his interview with New Republic regarding whether, if he had a son, he'd encourage him to play football. Obama, in essence, said that he worried that the game wasn't safe enough. Predictably, many NFL players have said that they would encourage their kids, that it's a great game, either builds or reveals character, that they didn't sign up for tennis. But one of the greatest of the current generation agrees with the President. And the quote in the headline, pretty much (I might not have gotten it verbatim) is his.
Future Hall of Fame safety Ed Reed of the Baltimore Ravens.
It's certainly a memorable one. And a powerful one. It's a statement, in essence, to his son, whom he won't encourage to play football.
And that speaks volumes. Because aside from the glory, not everyone makes big money. Not everyone is set for life. Most NFL players have careers of 3.5 years or less. Many end up broke, divorced or depressed within five years after their careers end. Many notables end up with serious health issues, including mental health issues, either at a young age (a University of Pennsylvania football player who took his own life a few years ago -- post-mortem tests indicated the type of brain diseases found in people like former Eagles' safety Andre Waters, who took his own life in his late forties), middle age (Junior Seau) or old age (such as, among many others, former Colts' tight end John Mackey.
It isn't easy to figure out why everyone chooses a profession. Do you do it because it's glamorous, lucrative, it's what your father and his father did, someone said you were good at it or should try it, someone you admired did it, it was the best alternative, what have you? But beneath the pageantry and the glamorous year is a significant amount of wreckage, the detritus of an American culture that doesn't always account for the damage in preparation for, or after, the glorified events take place, especially football.
John Adams once said something to the effect that one should teach his children to be doctors and lawyers and teachers so that their children can be artists and musicians. Perhaps Ed Reed is thinking along similar lines -- do the job that you can make the most money at -- no matter how tough -- so that you can provide better, less violent opportunities for your kids. Funny, because perhaps while many lawyers might fantasize what it might be like to be an NFL player, perhaps one NFL player is hoping that his son takes a job that involves indoor work without heavy lifting.
Back to the issue at hand -- the violent nature of the game. The purists decry the "new" rules, saying that football is becoming touch football, too offense-oriented, and that defenders cannot hit anyone any more. The challengers contend that how can we glorify a sport that has left so much visible human wreckage with the potential to leave a lot more (because many current and former players have not manifested symptoms of brain decay)? Give the President credit for underscoring an important set of facts that probably hasn't gotten the full attention that it deserves, precisely because the American viewing public doesn't want to acknowledge that there's a flip, ugly side to their favorite game. But the facts will persist, and they probably will increase.
And then how will we feel when the neighborhood kid we coached in little league baseball shows up outside the local convenience store in his mid-twenties acting weird, unable to finish college or hold a job, because he gave the town glory on Friday nights? Will we offer him a ride, a meal, a place to live? Or will we walk by, nod, and thank our lucky stars than when our boys asked to play football, we had the sense to say no, or that our boys weren't interested.
This issue goes far beyond the NFL and into the local ranks. That there are no easy answers doesn't mean that there isn't a problem.
Just ask the several thousand or so NFL players who are suing the league in federal court because of their physical and mental problems, which, they argue, derive from their having played football at the highest level.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Sports Media Factoid of the Day
As heard on "Mike and Mike" this morning.
In 2012, the Pro Bowl drew 12.5 million viewers.
In 2012, the World Series drew 12.7 million viewers.
What does that say?
First, people must love football so much that they'll watch an idiotic product to fill the gap week between the conference championship games and the Super Bowl.
Second, perhaps people watch the Pro Bowl intently because it's the only football game to gamble on that weekend (in fact, the Pro Bowl drew more action in Las Vegas than the top two NBA games combined).
Third, baseball just isn't made for TV.
Fourth, unless your team is in the World Series, you probably won't watch. In contrast, many people watch the Super Bowl regardless of whose team is in the game. Is the product that better, or was one-time (and late) Commissioner Pete Rozelle such a genius in branding pro football that the public has been captivated for almost 50 years?
Now, I don't watch as much sports on TV as I used to. Perhaps it's because there are so many choices I don't know where to start. Perhaps it's because I'm busy. Perhaps it's because I find playing FIFA soccer more relaxing than watching, say, the Pro Bowl. Or, I'd rather go to the gym or take the family somewhere.
The Lords of Football should be very happy with that viewer share.
The Lords of Baseball have some work to do.
And a lot of it.
I mean, almost tied with the Pro Bowl? The Pro Bowl?
In 2012, the Pro Bowl drew 12.5 million viewers.
In 2012, the World Series drew 12.7 million viewers.
What does that say?
First, people must love football so much that they'll watch an idiotic product to fill the gap week between the conference championship games and the Super Bowl.
Second, perhaps people watch the Pro Bowl intently because it's the only football game to gamble on that weekend (in fact, the Pro Bowl drew more action in Las Vegas than the top two NBA games combined).
Third, baseball just isn't made for TV.
Fourth, unless your team is in the World Series, you probably won't watch. In contrast, many people watch the Super Bowl regardless of whose team is in the game. Is the product that better, or was one-time (and late) Commissioner Pete Rozelle such a genius in branding pro football that the public has been captivated for almost 50 years?
Now, I don't watch as much sports on TV as I used to. Perhaps it's because there are so many choices I don't know where to start. Perhaps it's because I'm busy. Perhaps it's because I find playing FIFA soccer more relaxing than watching, say, the Pro Bowl. Or, I'd rather go to the gym or take the family somewhere.
The Lords of Football should be very happy with that viewer share.
The Lords of Baseball have some work to do.
And a lot of it.
I mean, almost tied with the Pro Bowl? The Pro Bowl?
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Great Week for the Big 5
And had Temple managed to beat Butler yesterday, three Big 5 teams would have beaten three nationally ranked teams on the same day.
As it turned out, Villanova beat Syracuse for its second victory over a top 5 team in a week (they beat Louisville earlier in the week). LaSalle beat VCU, which had been ranked #19, in the same week that it beat top-10 Butler. And that was the Explorers' first victory over a top-10 team in 30 years.
Just wondered if anyone noticed.
As it turned out, Villanova beat Syracuse for its second victory over a top 5 team in a week (they beat Louisville earlier in the week). LaSalle beat VCU, which had been ranked #19, in the same week that it beat top-10 Butler. And that was the Explorers' first victory over a top-10 team in 30 years.
Just wondered if anyone noticed.
The President is Right
I don't always agree with the President (come to think of it, most people don't always agree with everyone), and I'm sure he'll catch flak on this commentary from the right (from people who think that he's soft on "tough" stuff) and the left (from none other than the former Governor of Pennsylvania, who, after the Eagles postponed a game because of a snow storm, called the U.S. a "Nation of Wusses."). That flak comes with the territory and makes being President a very lonely job -- few love you all the time, and many vote for you because your the better alternative to the other guy if not the perfect person for the job. Having a thick skin is probably a significant criterion on the job description.
As opposed to having the hardest head.
President Obama recently sat for an interview in which he offered that he'd probably block his son from playing football (were he to have one), despite his love for the game. The linked excerpt from ESPN.com highlights the general thrust of his thoughts and risks being labeled "un-American" from those who define themselves as the definers of what "American" is. Yet, as physical a president as Teddy Roosevelt almost outlawed football because of the brutality, leading to national reforms. And he was a Republican. So, it's probably wise to keep partisan politics out of football and focus on the facts -- the repetitive banging of heads, the trauma to the brain, the statistics of former players who have significant problems and our national thirst for this type of gladiator activity and how badly we need that activity at the expense of the long-term health of thousands of young men.
We let our son play football when he was in fifth grade. He did well in school and was a very good sport about tagging along to his sister's endless travel games and such. He is a very nice kid, slender, and played offensive line. He didn't figure into the action in his first two games, and then, in a practice, suffered a concussion in a tackling drill. A kid who outweighed him by 25 pounds used his own head as a battering ram and made helmet-to-helmet contact with my son. The coaches -- each of whom cared a great deal about proper tackling and did their best to coach the team -- knew that one kid would emerge from that particular collision injured -- the smaller kid. That injury effectively ended my son's career. Probably for the best, too.
The emergency room doctor wasn't big on nurturing. For all I knew she was having a bad day personally, is a big football fan, doesn't have kids, doesn't like her hospital, but was clearly short on the type of caring counsel that parents of an injured boy needed. I had asked her about his getting back into playing -- there were four games left in the season, plus at least one playoff game. I figured she'd automatically say, "well, he's only 11, and that's the type of thing he should let rest, so, yes, he's done." To me, for the long-term care of a kid, that probably should be the answer, period. And that's how I asked my question, by explaining the length of the season and suggesting, "he's done for the year, right?"
To my surprise (and perhaps this is what is acceptable clinical practice), the doctor told me that he wasn't necessarily out for the year and could begin practicing with the team again "once the headaches go away." I didn't agree with the advice, and I wasn't about to blindly follow the advice of a busy E.R. doc who didn't know my son or our family. I also figured that even if the headaches went away in ten days, he'd have missed so much that he'd be behind and not in as good shape as the other kids, and, therefore, be at risk again. That's probably conservative thinking, but kids get only one brain and have only one life, and, as a parent, you need to be a steward for your kid and not put him into situations over which he has almost no control (such as the decision whether to play, because all kids and players want to get back in there). The choice, then, was easy -- he's out for the year. For what it's worth -- and I'm not a doctor -- I believe that this should be the prescription for any kid who suffers a concussion at any point in a football season -- you are out for the year.
We had other reasons for our decision. A classmate of our daughter -- who is three years ahead in school -- had suffered so many concussions playing basketball that she was compelled to stay at home for two weeks with zero brain activity -- no reading, no radio, no TV, no computer, no iPod -- so as to help her get better. You know, when you're looking to buy a new car, you notice every model on the road. When your kid has suffered a trauma, your ears pick up on every conversation about head injuries. Our son plays many competitive sports, but football probably wasn't for him, anyway. The concussion made that decision a lot easier.
Better to let healing become complete than to risk a worse injury "for the glory of the game" and for the development of a portion of character that says, "pick yourself up and get back in there." The flip side to those bromides are a) the game isn't always that glamorous and b) you aren't a genius if you thrust yourself back into danger blindly without thinking about how to avoid the disastrous result you just suffered.
Personal story aside, I do worry about the collective conscience of a nation. So many play this game so hard for so long, sure, to a degree, for their enjoyment, but also for the enjoyment of those who watch it. But unless and until we have some better protections for the longer-term care of those whom society seemingly disposes of after their useful football lives are over and at a time when they need the care of the fans the most -- when their injuires manifest -- how do we watch this game and feel only good things about it and ourselves? The landscape is littered with the shattered bodies and psyches of former players and their loved ones, and, ultimately, we'll need to face that landscape in a much better fashion than we have to date. In fact, we'll have to face the facts before that landscape continues to get worse.
And then how will we feel? We will feel great that our team beat the archrivals, or that our heroes, when in their fifties and sixties, cannot remember their spouses' names or where the bathroom is, suffer from early onset dementia or Alzheimer's. We will feel great that we won, or awful for the fate of these men who, perhaps, decades ago, didn't know the potential long-term effects from the sports that their parents signed them up to play and, perhaps sadly and ironically for them, they were good at? No victory seems to be worth that price.
After all, it's usually a better course to put up the stop sign at the intersection before the accidents happen than after they do.
And we've seen too many wrecks to continue on the present course.
As opposed to having the hardest head.
President Obama recently sat for an interview in which he offered that he'd probably block his son from playing football (were he to have one), despite his love for the game. The linked excerpt from ESPN.com highlights the general thrust of his thoughts and risks being labeled "un-American" from those who define themselves as the definers of what "American" is. Yet, as physical a president as Teddy Roosevelt almost outlawed football because of the brutality, leading to national reforms. And he was a Republican. So, it's probably wise to keep partisan politics out of football and focus on the facts -- the repetitive banging of heads, the trauma to the brain, the statistics of former players who have significant problems and our national thirst for this type of gladiator activity and how badly we need that activity at the expense of the long-term health of thousands of young men.
We let our son play football when he was in fifth grade. He did well in school and was a very good sport about tagging along to his sister's endless travel games and such. He is a very nice kid, slender, and played offensive line. He didn't figure into the action in his first two games, and then, in a practice, suffered a concussion in a tackling drill. A kid who outweighed him by 25 pounds used his own head as a battering ram and made helmet-to-helmet contact with my son. The coaches -- each of whom cared a great deal about proper tackling and did their best to coach the team -- knew that one kid would emerge from that particular collision injured -- the smaller kid. That injury effectively ended my son's career. Probably for the best, too.
The emergency room doctor wasn't big on nurturing. For all I knew she was having a bad day personally, is a big football fan, doesn't have kids, doesn't like her hospital, but was clearly short on the type of caring counsel that parents of an injured boy needed. I had asked her about his getting back into playing -- there were four games left in the season, plus at least one playoff game. I figured she'd automatically say, "well, he's only 11, and that's the type of thing he should let rest, so, yes, he's done." To me, for the long-term care of a kid, that probably should be the answer, period. And that's how I asked my question, by explaining the length of the season and suggesting, "he's done for the year, right?"
To my surprise (and perhaps this is what is acceptable clinical practice), the doctor told me that he wasn't necessarily out for the year and could begin practicing with the team again "once the headaches go away." I didn't agree with the advice, and I wasn't about to blindly follow the advice of a busy E.R. doc who didn't know my son or our family. I also figured that even if the headaches went away in ten days, he'd have missed so much that he'd be behind and not in as good shape as the other kids, and, therefore, be at risk again. That's probably conservative thinking, but kids get only one brain and have only one life, and, as a parent, you need to be a steward for your kid and not put him into situations over which he has almost no control (such as the decision whether to play, because all kids and players want to get back in there). The choice, then, was easy -- he's out for the year. For what it's worth -- and I'm not a doctor -- I believe that this should be the prescription for any kid who suffers a concussion at any point in a football season -- you are out for the year.
We had other reasons for our decision. A classmate of our daughter -- who is three years ahead in school -- had suffered so many concussions playing basketball that she was compelled to stay at home for two weeks with zero brain activity -- no reading, no radio, no TV, no computer, no iPod -- so as to help her get better. You know, when you're looking to buy a new car, you notice every model on the road. When your kid has suffered a trauma, your ears pick up on every conversation about head injuries. Our son plays many competitive sports, but football probably wasn't for him, anyway. The concussion made that decision a lot easier.
Better to let healing become complete than to risk a worse injury "for the glory of the game" and for the development of a portion of character that says, "pick yourself up and get back in there." The flip side to those bromides are a) the game isn't always that glamorous and b) you aren't a genius if you thrust yourself back into danger blindly without thinking about how to avoid the disastrous result you just suffered.
Personal story aside, I do worry about the collective conscience of a nation. So many play this game so hard for so long, sure, to a degree, for their enjoyment, but also for the enjoyment of those who watch it. But unless and until we have some better protections for the longer-term care of those whom society seemingly disposes of after their useful football lives are over and at a time when they need the care of the fans the most -- when their injuires manifest -- how do we watch this game and feel only good things about it and ourselves? The landscape is littered with the shattered bodies and psyches of former players and their loved ones, and, ultimately, we'll need to face that landscape in a much better fashion than we have to date. In fact, we'll have to face the facts before that landscape continues to get worse.
And then how will we feel? We will feel great that our team beat the archrivals, or that our heroes, when in their fifties and sixties, cannot remember their spouses' names or where the bathroom is, suffer from early onset dementia or Alzheimer's. We will feel great that we won, or awful for the fate of these men who, perhaps, decades ago, didn't know the potential long-term effects from the sports that their parents signed them up to play and, perhaps sadly and ironically for them, they were good at? No victory seems to be worth that price.
After all, it's usually a better course to put up the stop sign at the intersection before the accidents happen than after they do.
And we've seen too many wrecks to continue on the present course.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Things
1980 U.S. Olympic hockey hero Mike Eruzione is selling his jersey and stick. He'll take the proceeds, put some in his foundation and use some of it for a nest egg for him and his kids.
On the one hand, it's tough to see great players part with their own memorabilia, especially when they need the funds to live on.
On the other hand, it goes to show you that perhaps what's more important to these former players is not their tools of the trade, but their memories. Mike Eruzione will always have them, and no one can take them away from him. And it's likely that those memories provide him with much more psychic file than the memorabilia ever did or will.
Memorabilia collectors fascinate me. Do they really like to collect, or is it the thrill of the acquisition (after which perhaps they suffer some remorse because they might have paid too much)? Memorabilia can be nice things, so I don't want to knock them.
But at the end of the day, it's the memories, isn't it? Whether someone played in the game or is a fan, we remember where we were, with whom we played or watched, and how we felt? Did we watch the game with our roommates? Or long-since-deceased Uncle Joe, the fellow with the earpiece in at family functions so that he could listen to the hometown baseball team's games? Or was it something we did with Dad, which by definition made it special?
Things always have a price.
Memories, though, are priceless.
And Mike Eruzione helped create some of the best sports memories for a generation of Americans.
On the one hand, it's tough to see great players part with their own memorabilia, especially when they need the funds to live on.
On the other hand, it goes to show you that perhaps what's more important to these former players is not their tools of the trade, but their memories. Mike Eruzione will always have them, and no one can take them away from him. And it's likely that those memories provide him with much more psychic file than the memorabilia ever did or will.
Memorabilia collectors fascinate me. Do they really like to collect, or is it the thrill of the acquisition (after which perhaps they suffer some remorse because they might have paid too much)? Memorabilia can be nice things, so I don't want to knock them.
But at the end of the day, it's the memories, isn't it? Whether someone played in the game or is a fan, we remember where we were, with whom we played or watched, and how we felt? Did we watch the game with our roommates? Or long-since-deceased Uncle Joe, the fellow with the earpiece in at family functions so that he could listen to the hometown baseball team's games? Or was it something we did with Dad, which by definition made it special?
Things always have a price.
Memories, though, are priceless.
And Mike Eruzione helped create some of the best sports memories for a generation of Americans.
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Eden Hazard and the Ball Boy
If you watch Sports Center, you've probably seen the clip that shows Eden Hazard, the young Belgian soccer star who plays winger for Chelsea, kick a ball boy in Chelsea's match at Swansea (in Wales) yesterday. You also saw the referee give Hazard a red card, ejecting him from the game. And, you saw the boy roll over and scream out in pain, too. Bad facts, bad visual, interesting result.
Watching it quickly while on the trusty spin bike, I first convicted Hazard, because on the face of it he seemingly kicked the ball boy for no reason. That, of course, would have no explanation and no excuse. But watching it again (and here's a link to pictures and video), you see that the ball boy covered up the ball the way an American football player would dive on a loose football. Put simply, the ball boy should have given the ball to Hazard promptly. Instead, he delayed the game. My guess is that Hazard must have said something like "give me the ball," and when the ball boy didn't yield immediately, he kicked him once (and that kick looked more like a prod than a stomp) before kicking him again and getting the ball. Clearly, Hazard hurt the boy (even if diving and other sorts of histrionics are prominent in soccer). The question that's circulating is who is in the wrong and how much?
My take on it is that the ball boy clearly was wrong not to yield the ball immediately to Hazard. The Swansea people should at least talk with him, if not suspend him or depending on his record, terminate his work as a ball boy. The kid clearly made a mistake. But did that justify what Hazard did? No, it did not, even though the ball boy was in the wrong. And, since it appears that the referee was watching, there should be a rule that enables a referee to issue a card (red or yellow) to the home team's captain for delay of game (sure, it is perhaps unfair to the captain, but it sends a message to the home team that their employees involved in the game need to behave properly). And that would have been the end of it. Hazard should have appealed to the official (even if there is no clear rule) and perhaps the officials could have dealt with the transgression by adding time to the clock that is normally added for "stoppage time." I don't know what the rule book says, but it clearly should be reviewed in light of what the Swansea ball boy did.
As for Hazard, well, we shouldn't have players dispensing their own type of justice, especially to teenaged ball boys. He'll draw a fine and a suspension, but he's actually only a few years older than the ball boy he kicked. We can understand what Hazard did -- he's an elite athlete at a very young age (he is one of the world's best) -- and he's gotten to where he is by an ardent pursuit to be among the world's best. Which means, when he has to, he'll break down barriers to get there. The ball boy got in his way, and then he took matters into his own hands.
Let's not make this into anything more than it is -- two young men who made mistakes. The ball boy didn't do his job, and Hazard compounded the situation. The video makes it look ugly, and Chelsea's decline this year makes them and their players easy targets. But this really isn't more than unfortunate behavior, and it should be treated with some level of measurement and a significant amount of forgiveness.
This shouldn't ruin either the ball boy's or Hazard's career.
It should ruin some of Hazard's nights, though, thinking about what he did.
Watching it quickly while on the trusty spin bike, I first convicted Hazard, because on the face of it he seemingly kicked the ball boy for no reason. That, of course, would have no explanation and no excuse. But watching it again (and here's a link to pictures and video), you see that the ball boy covered up the ball the way an American football player would dive on a loose football. Put simply, the ball boy should have given the ball to Hazard promptly. Instead, he delayed the game. My guess is that Hazard must have said something like "give me the ball," and when the ball boy didn't yield immediately, he kicked him once (and that kick looked more like a prod than a stomp) before kicking him again and getting the ball. Clearly, Hazard hurt the boy (even if diving and other sorts of histrionics are prominent in soccer). The question that's circulating is who is in the wrong and how much?
My take on it is that the ball boy clearly was wrong not to yield the ball immediately to Hazard. The Swansea people should at least talk with him, if not suspend him or depending on his record, terminate his work as a ball boy. The kid clearly made a mistake. But did that justify what Hazard did? No, it did not, even though the ball boy was in the wrong. And, since it appears that the referee was watching, there should be a rule that enables a referee to issue a card (red or yellow) to the home team's captain for delay of game (sure, it is perhaps unfair to the captain, but it sends a message to the home team that their employees involved in the game need to behave properly). And that would have been the end of it. Hazard should have appealed to the official (even if there is no clear rule) and perhaps the officials could have dealt with the transgression by adding time to the clock that is normally added for "stoppage time." I don't know what the rule book says, but it clearly should be reviewed in light of what the Swansea ball boy did.
As for Hazard, well, we shouldn't have players dispensing their own type of justice, especially to teenaged ball boys. He'll draw a fine and a suspension, but he's actually only a few years older than the ball boy he kicked. We can understand what Hazard did -- he's an elite athlete at a very young age (he is one of the world's best) -- and he's gotten to where he is by an ardent pursuit to be among the world's best. Which means, when he has to, he'll break down barriers to get there. The ball boy got in his way, and then he took matters into his own hands.
Let's not make this into anything more than it is -- two young men who made mistakes. The ball boy didn't do his job, and Hazard compounded the situation. The video makes it look ugly, and Chelsea's decline this year makes them and their players easy targets. But this really isn't more than unfortunate behavior, and it should be treated with some level of measurement and a significant amount of forgiveness.
This shouldn't ruin either the ball boy's or Hazard's career.
It should ruin some of Hazard's nights, though, thinking about what he did.
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
The Phillies Sign Delmon Young
Younger, right-handed bat, everyday right-fielder.
Perhaps.
Behavior issues. Check. Can't move that well. Check.
Thankfully they have a guy named Revere in center field.
He'll need to get on his horse to cover all that ground.
On the one hand, the Phillies look pragmatic, picking up a much-needed extra part on the cheap on a team laden with aging stars and big contracts. They're taking a page out of Brian Sabean's book in SF -- good pitching from top to bottom (and adding Mike Adams to the bullpen was a good move), enough hitters to be dangerous (assuming that they're healthy) and picking up some good spare parts to fortify the team (Mike Young and Delmon Young. All they need is Bobby Crosby and a player named Stills). Sabean has made a career of overcoming bad big signings (Barry Zito, Aaron Rowand) by signing as many spare parts as possible and having them workout (among them Pat Burrell and Cody Ross).
On the other hand, they look desperate. The back end of their rotation is iffy. Their middle relief also is iffy. Their everyday lineup is aging, and their outfield is a question mark. The people who will argue this end of the continuum will contend that Young isn't the type of answer they've come to expect from Ruben Amaro, i.e., the second coming of Vladimir Guerrero or at least Jayson Werth circa 2008.
In the middle, the Phillies are optimistic. They believe that they have enough pitching to contend for the division, that 2012 was an aberration because of all the injuries (and even with them, they played .500 ball), that their everyday lineup is stronger because everyone is healthy, and that the spare parts are actually difference makers. That's what they'll try to sell to the public.
Meanwhile, for the first time in 5 years, you can purchase a full-year or partial-year season-ticket plan from them.
The marketplace is an interesting place; fans are fickle. The strategy -- to win now -- has meant that there aren't many future stars coming up from the farm system. That phenomenon caught up to them in 2012. Let's see if they can overcome it in 2013. The age of the core group of position players -- as well as Roy Halladay -- suggests that declines in performance will increase, as will injuries. And with little in the way of organizational depth, finishing third or fourth in the division seems realistic.
We'll find out soon enough.
Perhaps.
Behavior issues. Check. Can't move that well. Check.
Thankfully they have a guy named Revere in center field.
He'll need to get on his horse to cover all that ground.
On the one hand, the Phillies look pragmatic, picking up a much-needed extra part on the cheap on a team laden with aging stars and big contracts. They're taking a page out of Brian Sabean's book in SF -- good pitching from top to bottom (and adding Mike Adams to the bullpen was a good move), enough hitters to be dangerous (assuming that they're healthy) and picking up some good spare parts to fortify the team (Mike Young and Delmon Young. All they need is Bobby Crosby and a player named Stills). Sabean has made a career of overcoming bad big signings (Barry Zito, Aaron Rowand) by signing as many spare parts as possible and having them workout (among them Pat Burrell and Cody Ross).
On the other hand, they look desperate. The back end of their rotation is iffy. Their middle relief also is iffy. Their everyday lineup is aging, and their outfield is a question mark. The people who will argue this end of the continuum will contend that Young isn't the type of answer they've come to expect from Ruben Amaro, i.e., the second coming of Vladimir Guerrero or at least Jayson Werth circa 2008.
In the middle, the Phillies are optimistic. They believe that they have enough pitching to contend for the division, that 2012 was an aberration because of all the injuries (and even with them, they played .500 ball), that their everyday lineup is stronger because everyone is healthy, and that the spare parts are actually difference makers. That's what they'll try to sell to the public.
Meanwhile, for the first time in 5 years, you can purchase a full-year or partial-year season-ticket plan from them.
The marketplace is an interesting place; fans are fickle. The strategy -- to win now -- has meant that there aren't many future stars coming up from the farm system. That phenomenon caught up to them in 2012. Let's see if they can overcome it in 2013. The age of the core group of position players -- as well as Roy Halladay -- suggests that declines in performance will increase, as will injuries. And with little in the way of organizational depth, finishing third or fourth in the division seems realistic.
We'll find out soon enough.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Phil Mickelson on Taxes
Regardless of your politics, it would appear that the number of professional athletes making their permanent residences in California will dwindle. Read here about Mickelson's comments, but if you life in Florida or Texas -- and in areas where pro athletes already live -- you probably will have some new neighbors.
Was Wes Welker's Wife Right (Anyway) and/or Does It Matter (Anymore)?
Click here to read Wes Welker's wife's comments about future Hall of Fame linebacker Ray Lewis.
She said some pretty tough things about the Ravens' linebacker. Seemingly, those "facts" don't affect Lewis's play on the field and his status as a star football player. But the question remains whether the (also seemingly) absolute lionization Lewis receives -- which seems to transcend football -- is justified.
She said some pretty tough things about the Ravens' linebacker. Seemingly, those "facts" don't affect Lewis's play on the field and his status as a star football player. But the question remains whether the (also seemingly) absolute lionization Lewis receives -- which seems to transcend football -- is justified.
Monday, January 21, 2013
RIP, Stan Musial and Earl Weaver
Very sad to note the passing of two baseball legends, the best Hall of Famer never to get the huge national hype outside his region, Stan Musial, and one of the best managers, ever, Earl Weaver.
As to Musial, if you look up his numbers you'll proably wonder why he wasn't elevated to the same level of Baseball's Mount Rushmore as peers Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams or some who followed, such as Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle (he was cleary better than "The Duke"). The recent biography of him paints the picture of an outstanding player and a superstar who had the courage to be kind to everyone. Look up his stats, read the book, and you'll feel compelled to argue that Musial is one of the ten best position players of all time (on a different note, if you were to look up Lefty Grove's stats, you'd probably feel compelled to argue that he was one of the best pitchers of all time, too).
As for Weaver, his ejections probably eclipsed his accomplishments, and there's a famous one on YouTube of him arguing with umpire Bill Haller that is a classic (edge because of his comeback to Haller, the brother of former Giants' catcher and GM Tom Haller). Yet, for all the histrionics, Weaver was a skilled manager, platooned well, won four pennants and a World Series.
We probably won't see the likes of either anymore. Musial was uncomplicated and dignified, not operating under a mystery of whether he was using a performance-enhancing drug or not, interacted well with the fans and the media and played in the same city for 22 years. Weaver's antics probably wouldn't be tolerated today, even if the entertainment value is desperately needed, especially because of how long and sometimes antiseptic baseball games can be. Both left their mark indelibly on the game; both will be missed.
As to Musial, if you look up his numbers you'll proably wonder why he wasn't elevated to the same level of Baseball's Mount Rushmore as peers Joe DiMaggio and Ted Williams or some who followed, such as Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle (he was cleary better than "The Duke"). The recent biography of him paints the picture of an outstanding player and a superstar who had the courage to be kind to everyone. Look up his stats, read the book, and you'll feel compelled to argue that Musial is one of the ten best position players of all time (on a different note, if you were to look up Lefty Grove's stats, you'd probably feel compelled to argue that he was one of the best pitchers of all time, too).
As for Weaver, his ejections probably eclipsed his accomplishments, and there's a famous one on YouTube of him arguing with umpire Bill Haller that is a classic (edge because of his comeback to Haller, the brother of former Giants' catcher and GM Tom Haller). Yet, for all the histrionics, Weaver was a skilled manager, platooned well, won four pennants and a World Series.
We probably won't see the likes of either anymore. Musial was uncomplicated and dignified, not operating under a mystery of whether he was using a performance-enhancing drug or not, interacted well with the fans and the media and played in the same city for 22 years. Weaver's antics probably wouldn't be tolerated today, even if the entertainment value is desperately needed, especially because of how long and sometimes antiseptic baseball games can be. Both left their mark indelibly on the game; both will be missed.
So Much for Blue-Chip Recruits
The Super Bowl features a match-up between the University of Nevada at Reno and Delaware. That's right, the 49ers' quarterback, Colin Kaepernick went to the former, while Ravens' QB Joe Flacco went to the latter (via Pittsburgh, from which he transferred). All Elite 11 and non-Elite 11 QBs should take notice. It's not necessarily where you start or who taps you early, but where you finish. Which means that while the tendency is to go to the "best" school that recruits you, that is, the one with the biggest brand name, the tendency should be for you to go to the school that is the best for you.
For example, Hall of Fame QB Jim Kelly went to Miami (Fla.) before it became the U. He wanted to go to Penn State, but Joe Paterno wanted him to play linebacker. Ben Roethlisberger, a Miami (OH) alum, was recruited by Ohio State. But the big QB thought they would have wanted him as a tight end. Instead, he became a pretty "big time" QB.
Truth be told, some schools have a great record developing collegiate QBs, such as Cal and USC (with their West Coast-based, if not "West Coast" offenses that throw the ball a lot). Yet, while the latter has turned out Carson Palmer, Matt Leinart, Matt Cassel and Mark Sanchez, none has turned into a star. The former has turned out many QBs, but only one -- Aaron Rodgers -- is a star (and a mega-one at that). It would seem that no school can guarantee a player entry into, let alone success in, the NFL. Which means, again, that players should focus on the best schools for them.
And if that isn't proof, look at all NFL rosters. Many players hail from "big-name" football schools. But many do not. And that circles us back to the Super Bowl.
Delaware versus Nevada.
Gotta love it.
For example, Hall of Fame QB Jim Kelly went to Miami (Fla.) before it became the U. He wanted to go to Penn State, but Joe Paterno wanted him to play linebacker. Ben Roethlisberger, a Miami (OH) alum, was recruited by Ohio State. But the big QB thought they would have wanted him as a tight end. Instead, he became a pretty "big time" QB.
Truth be told, some schools have a great record developing collegiate QBs, such as Cal and USC (with their West Coast-based, if not "West Coast" offenses that throw the ball a lot). Yet, while the latter has turned out Carson Palmer, Matt Leinart, Matt Cassel and Mark Sanchez, none has turned into a star. The former has turned out many QBs, but only one -- Aaron Rodgers -- is a star (and a mega-one at that). It would seem that no school can guarantee a player entry into, let alone success in, the NFL. Which means, again, that players should focus on the best schools for them.
And if that isn't proof, look at all NFL rosters. Many players hail from "big-name" football schools. But many do not. And that circles us back to the Super Bowl.
Delaware versus Nevada.
Gotta love it.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Chip Kelly, Keith Armstrong and the NFL, a Big Business
So Keith Armstrong, the Falcons' special teams coordinator, seemingly has done everything right. He's worked his way up the coaching hierarchy, and is now a coordinator. While not an offensive or defensive coordinator, he's an NFL coordinator. Moreover, there's precedent for a special teams coordinator to go from that job to the job of an NFL head coach and succeed -- John Harbaugh of the Ravens, who had been the Eagles' special teams coordinator. He's in his second AFC championship game in two years.
Armstrong surfaced on many interviewing slates this year, a bona fide candidate from a Super Bowl contender. Yet, he only showed up on the laundry lists, so to speak, and not the short lists. Was it because he wasn't good enough? Was it because the teams that interviewed him only did so because the Rooney Rule, which requires teams to interview at least one minority candidate for open head coaching positions, made them? Did they ever consider Armstrong seriously? (Interestingly, the Rooneys themselves hired a minority coach after their last opening -- Mike Tomlin -- and he's led the Steelers to a Super Bowl during his tenure in Pittsburgh). From what transpired during coaching searches, it appears not.
The Eagles, instead of hiring a native son in Armstrong, hire Chip Kelly. On the face of the decision, it's a no-brainer. Kelly is the hot name in college football; Armstrong is a special teams coordinator. Most special teams coordinators don't become head coaches; some, like Joe Avezzano and Mike Westhoff, become known for their outsized personalities. And yet, Armstrong's name came up in searches -- he seemingly was interviewed early in several processes. Was it that he is a hot commodity? Or, alternatively, a "check the box" interview because the Rooney Rule requires that NFL teams interview at least one minority candidate for a head coaching position? (As for Kelly, the big question is whether someone with zero coaching experience in the NFL and not that far removed from powerhouse New Hampshire can adapt to the fast pace of the NFL, professional players and an expectation that he win a Super Bowl within the next five years).
It seems like Keith Armstrong is a good coach. He's a coordinator on a team that's a win away from the Super Bowl. And yet, it doesn't appear that a minority candidate really got serious consideration for any of the eight vacant coaching positions (all now filled). Romeo Crennel, fired in Kansas City, appears to be headed for retirement (or at least that's what I heard on ESPN after he was fired). Lovie Smith, who took the Bears to a Super Bowl, didn't seem to draw serious attention. Neither did Ray Horton, the well-respected defensive coordinator for the Cardinals (who has since landed in Cleveland in the same spot and who, at 52, might seem to be getting up there in years for consideration for a head coaching position, even if Bruce Arians, at 60, just got his first full-time head coaching position).
A few things are worthy of probing:
1. Is the NFL's Rooney Rule working?
2. If the answer is no, what can the NFL do to create opportunities for minority candidates and enable them to get hired into head coaching positions (given that a large majority of NFL players are minorities)?
3. Why weren't Keith Armstrong and Ray Horton given more consideration and why wasn't Lovie Smith hired, given that the demand for Andy Reid soared the day that he was let go?
It wasn't so long ago -- perhaps a few decades -- that the press used a term, the "black quarterback," perhaps because there weren't many African-American quarterbacks and in my estimation because of racism (as if the expectation was that African-Americans couldn't play the position). Sure, there were James Harris, Doug Williams and Warren Moon, among the earliest, but the absence of African-American quarterbacks helped create the term. Did it mean anomaly? Did it mean surprise, as in "the world is surprised that an African-American can play the position?" (My father took me to a Temple-Grambling game in the mid-1970's, and we were left with our jaws hanging as to how any team in the country wouldn't have recruited Doug Williams, that's how great he was). Thankfully, over time, high school, college and professional coaches came to their senses, there are many African-American quarterbacks, and you don't hear that bad term any more. It might be only a small part of evolution away from stereotyping, but a powerful one, too.
The time is long past due that we don't need to hear the term "African-American" head coach, either. There are plenty of worthy candidates out there, and it's long past due that the NFL foster a culture where there are more African-American head coaches -- with or without a Rooney Rule.
As the NFL approaches the day on which the country will honor the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, the league should think about that. To it's credit, from headlines on ESPN, it is.
Armstrong surfaced on many interviewing slates this year, a bona fide candidate from a Super Bowl contender. Yet, he only showed up on the laundry lists, so to speak, and not the short lists. Was it because he wasn't good enough? Was it because the teams that interviewed him only did so because the Rooney Rule, which requires teams to interview at least one minority candidate for open head coaching positions, made them? Did they ever consider Armstrong seriously? (Interestingly, the Rooneys themselves hired a minority coach after their last opening -- Mike Tomlin -- and he's led the Steelers to a Super Bowl during his tenure in Pittsburgh). From what transpired during coaching searches, it appears not.
The Eagles, instead of hiring a native son in Armstrong, hire Chip Kelly. On the face of the decision, it's a no-brainer. Kelly is the hot name in college football; Armstrong is a special teams coordinator. Most special teams coordinators don't become head coaches; some, like Joe Avezzano and Mike Westhoff, become known for their outsized personalities. And yet, Armstrong's name came up in searches -- he seemingly was interviewed early in several processes. Was it that he is a hot commodity? Or, alternatively, a "check the box" interview because the Rooney Rule requires that NFL teams interview at least one minority candidate for a head coaching position? (As for Kelly, the big question is whether someone with zero coaching experience in the NFL and not that far removed from powerhouse New Hampshire can adapt to the fast pace of the NFL, professional players and an expectation that he win a Super Bowl within the next five years).
It seems like Keith Armstrong is a good coach. He's a coordinator on a team that's a win away from the Super Bowl. And yet, it doesn't appear that a minority candidate really got serious consideration for any of the eight vacant coaching positions (all now filled). Romeo Crennel, fired in Kansas City, appears to be headed for retirement (or at least that's what I heard on ESPN after he was fired). Lovie Smith, who took the Bears to a Super Bowl, didn't seem to draw serious attention. Neither did Ray Horton, the well-respected defensive coordinator for the Cardinals (who has since landed in Cleveland in the same spot and who, at 52, might seem to be getting up there in years for consideration for a head coaching position, even if Bruce Arians, at 60, just got his first full-time head coaching position).
A few things are worthy of probing:
1. Is the NFL's Rooney Rule working?
2. If the answer is no, what can the NFL do to create opportunities for minority candidates and enable them to get hired into head coaching positions (given that a large majority of NFL players are minorities)?
3. Why weren't Keith Armstrong and Ray Horton given more consideration and why wasn't Lovie Smith hired, given that the demand for Andy Reid soared the day that he was let go?
It wasn't so long ago -- perhaps a few decades -- that the press used a term, the "black quarterback," perhaps because there weren't many African-American quarterbacks and in my estimation because of racism (as if the expectation was that African-Americans couldn't play the position). Sure, there were James Harris, Doug Williams and Warren Moon, among the earliest, but the absence of African-American quarterbacks helped create the term. Did it mean anomaly? Did it mean surprise, as in "the world is surprised that an African-American can play the position?" (My father took me to a Temple-Grambling game in the mid-1970's, and we were left with our jaws hanging as to how any team in the country wouldn't have recruited Doug Williams, that's how great he was). Thankfully, over time, high school, college and professional coaches came to their senses, there are many African-American quarterbacks, and you don't hear that bad term any more. It might be only a small part of evolution away from stereotyping, but a powerful one, too.
The time is long past due that we don't need to hear the term "African-American" head coach, either. There are plenty of worthy candidates out there, and it's long past due that the NFL foster a culture where there are more African-American head coaches -- with or without a Rooney Rule.
As the NFL approaches the day on which the country will honor the life of Dr. Martin Luther King, the league should think about that. To it's credit, from headlines on ESPN, it is.
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