No doubt Ken Griffey Jr. was worthy of Hall of Fame induction. But getting the highest percentage of votes EVER (99.3%) would seem to defy logic. He outpaced Tom Seaver's record mark of 98.84% way back in 1992.
Is KG II more deserving than TS was? Maybe. A position player that's out there every game would seem to be more valuable than a starting pitcher that gets 4 or 5 days off between appearances. Griffey could hit for average, hit for power, steal bases, and was a terrific defender. Seaver could pitch and do nothing else. He sat on the bench for far more games than he participated in.
But Griffey's near sweep (437 out of 440 voters) raises a couple questions.
First, despite his talents, are we supposed to believe he was more worthy of enshrinement than the likes of, say, Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Ted Williams, and Hank Aaron?
And second, who were the nitwit voters that failed to include the four above-mentioned immortals on their ballots? How could anybody in their right mind NOT vote for those guys?
[The recent purge of eligible HOF voters was WAY overdue. Get rid of the doddering old fools set in their archaic/spiteful ways, and usher in the next generation of objective and unbiased thinkers. Did I mention it's about damn time?]
Alas, Alan Trammell, long time shortstop for the Detroit Tigers, only got 41% out of the necessary 75% in his final appearance on the ballot. Not even close.
Going off into the politically incorrect world, yours truly has a theory as to why Tram never gained any traction with the HOF voters. It's the ugly factor.
It should be noted that former St. Louis Cardinal shortstop Ozzie Smith was enshrined several years ago. Statistically, Tram far outpaced Smith. A far better hitter, to be sure, But Oz was flamboyant in the field while Tram was just steady. Smith could make routine plays look spectacular while Trammell could make difficult plays look ordinary. Plus, there was the back flip thing.
Tram was part of a World Series winning team, made a few All-Star games, and played for twenty years. Check champion, individual accolades, and longevity off the list of qualifications.
Which brings me back to the doddering old fools and the ugly factor. Trammell himself was hardly a good looking guy. Whether it was something genetic, a world-class case of acne left untreated as a youth, or a horrible accident with battery acid somewhere along the way -- suffice it to be said Alan Trammell's mug and complexion left much to be desired. He had more pot holes up top than your average Michigan road these days. It might just be that, on some level, this turned the voters off. Sure, Babe Ruth himself wasn't exactly an Adonis, but those were different times. And the Babe was a larger than life figure. Tram kept a low profile.
Now the part that might get me in trouble. On her best day, they are many that deemed Tram's wife not a pretty sight. Yeah, I know. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and she probably was/is a terrific person. Well yours truly beheld that she was ugly. The stone variety. It might just also be the HOF voters took this into consideration as well. The dude's one of the best major league shortstops ever and he wound up married to THAT?
In recent times, true merit has been tossed out the window in favor of "sexiness" and sensation. Is it fair? Of course not. But a lot of things in life aren't fair. Look at the Presidential candidates 300 million Americans have to choose from in the coming months. Look at Tiger Woods still making countless millions from endorsements when he's not even in the top 400 golfers in the world any more. The tax system. Pete Rose's ongoing purgatory. Kobe Bryant making $24 million for the Lakers when most other teams wouldn't have him on their rosters for 24 cents. Barry Sanders walking away from the Detroit Lions and their fans at age 30, and likely leaving the all-time rushing record (and several million bucks) on the table. Other notables whose lives were cut short by illness, plane crashes, and the like. None of this was/is fair.
And perhaps the HOF balloting over the years hasn't been either.
As for Detroit Lions ownership and Mr. and Mrs. Trammell? Well, there's really no way around it. Some things are just destined to be flat out ugly.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Kobe, Tiger, and Morganna
It seems the LA Lakers find themselves in a quandary. Yes, they're terrible, but they have to figure out what to do with Kobe Bryant's jersey number after this, mercifully his last season.
[BTW, he's stinking it up too. Can't shoot, can't rebound, can't defend, and can barely run. That's when he's even healthy enough to play -- which isn't very often. For this the Lakers are paying him the ridiculous sum of $24 Million dollars.]
Thing is, during his career with the Lakers, Kobe Bean Bryant wore two different numbers. #8 for the first ten years, then mysteriously switched to #24 for the last ten. The buzz has already started in LA-LA land as to which, or perhaps both numbers should be retired.
This whole scenario is really dumb. If the Lakers can't decide, ask Kobe to pick one, but he's not getting both.
Idle thought: If Bryant had decided to change his number every year during his twenty for the Lakers (and they likely would have went along with it), would the Lakers now be considering retiring them all? How stupid would that be?
But don't put anything past the Lakers when it comes to pomp, hype, self-promotion, and honoring one of their all-time "greats". They might well retire both numbers. Kobe would be happy. The TV talking heads would yap about it for years.
Hey, let's get real. Once upon a time Bryant was a very good player. He scored a lot of points because he took a bazillion shots. He also has several NBA championships on his resume. Of course, like all other "great" players, Bryant was fortunate to be on teams that afforded him a formidable supporting cast. One guy can't get it done. (See Lebron in his early Cleveland years). And when it came to promoting himself -- few ever did it better than Kobe Bean.
Yet if one player getting two numbers forever retired is what sports has evolved into, consider a couple other possibilities.
Perhaps when Eldrick Tont (Tiger) Woods is flailing away on the Senior Tour trying to make a cut, the PGA could retire his driver and pitching wedge from the "good old days". Once formidable weapons themselves, of late nobody knows where Tiger's drives are going to go, and he wields the wedge around the greens with the same delicate touch as, say, a lumberjack trying to chop down an oak tree with a dull axe. Whack, whack, whack. None are very pretty sights in this day and age.
No doubt both Tiger and Kobe will be enshrined in the Halls of Fame of their respective sports.
But if we're talking about retiring a pair of numbers for one individual, another puts these boys to shame.
That would be one Morganna Roberts. She was the "Kissing Bandit", especially at major league baseball games. Ironically enough, her first "victim" was one Pete Rose, whose Hall of Fame credentials have been the subject of great debate for the last couple decades.
Those that remember Morganna likely didn't notice her kissing much. She had another physical attribute that set her far apart from your average female fan running onto the field. To say she was top heavy would be an understatement. In her "prime" Morganna's vitals were 60-23-39. That was a whole lot of bazoom power coming at the unexpecting "victim". They likely didn't even remember what she looked like. Good thing they were wearing cups, or that could have become embarrassing.
The point is -- if one sports figure like Kobe is going to have a "pair" of numbers honored for all eternity, then Morganna's double J cup bra should be hoisted up into the rafters and/or given a bronze plaque in Cooperstown as well.
Basketball and baseball players come and go, but Morganna was a one, excuse, make that two of a kind indeed......
[BTW, he's stinking it up too. Can't shoot, can't rebound, can't defend, and can barely run. That's when he's even healthy enough to play -- which isn't very often. For this the Lakers are paying him the ridiculous sum of $24 Million dollars.]
Thing is, during his career with the Lakers, Kobe Bean Bryant wore two different numbers. #8 for the first ten years, then mysteriously switched to #24 for the last ten. The buzz has already started in LA-LA land as to which, or perhaps both numbers should be retired.
This whole scenario is really dumb. If the Lakers can't decide, ask Kobe to pick one, but he's not getting both.
Idle thought: If Bryant had decided to change his number every year during his twenty for the Lakers (and they likely would have went along with it), would the Lakers now be considering retiring them all? How stupid would that be?
But don't put anything past the Lakers when it comes to pomp, hype, self-promotion, and honoring one of their all-time "greats". They might well retire both numbers. Kobe would be happy. The TV talking heads would yap about it for years.
Hey, let's get real. Once upon a time Bryant was a very good player. He scored a lot of points because he took a bazillion shots. He also has several NBA championships on his resume. Of course, like all other "great" players, Bryant was fortunate to be on teams that afforded him a formidable supporting cast. One guy can't get it done. (See Lebron in his early Cleveland years). And when it came to promoting himself -- few ever did it better than Kobe Bean.
Yet if one player getting two numbers forever retired is what sports has evolved into, consider a couple other possibilities.
Perhaps when Eldrick Tont (Tiger) Woods is flailing away on the Senior Tour trying to make a cut, the PGA could retire his driver and pitching wedge from the "good old days". Once formidable weapons themselves, of late nobody knows where Tiger's drives are going to go, and he wields the wedge around the greens with the same delicate touch as, say, a lumberjack trying to chop down an oak tree with a dull axe. Whack, whack, whack. None are very pretty sights in this day and age.
No doubt both Tiger and Kobe will be enshrined in the Halls of Fame of their respective sports.
But if we're talking about retiring a pair of numbers for one individual, another puts these boys to shame.
That would be one Morganna Roberts. She was the "Kissing Bandit", especially at major league baseball games. Ironically enough, her first "victim" was one Pete Rose, whose Hall of Fame credentials have been the subject of great debate for the last couple decades.
Those that remember Morganna likely didn't notice her kissing much. She had another physical attribute that set her far apart from your average female fan running onto the field. To say she was top heavy would be an understatement. In her "prime" Morganna's vitals were 60-23-39. That was a whole lot of bazoom power coming at the unexpecting "victim". They likely didn't even remember what she looked like. Good thing they were wearing cups, or that could have become embarrassing.
The point is -- if one sports figure like Kobe is going to have a "pair" of numbers honored for all eternity, then Morganna's double J cup bra should be hoisted up into the rafters and/or given a bronze plaque in Cooperstown as well.
Basketball and baseball players come and go, but Morganna was a one, excuse, make that two of a kind indeed......
Detroit Lions and "next year"
I totally agree with a local columnist's recent take on Detroit Lions fans. One Pat Caputo suggested the Honolulu blue and silver faithful have fallen prey to the "Stockholm Syndrome". The theory goes that sometimes when a person is abused long enough by the same tormentor, they actually begin to like it. It is their place in life, so why not accept it and even fall in love with the one dishing out the punishment? Sounds weird -- right?
But as Caputo noted, such would seem to be the case with Lions fans. They've been abused for decades, but there's no other place they'd rather be than bent over and taking another flogging with the promise that tomorrow will be better. Thing is, a rosy tomorrow never seems to come for the Lions.
Well over a half century of futility would seem to be conclusive evidence. The Lions remain the only non-expansion NFL team to have never even made it to a Super Bowl -- let alone won it. Since Super Bowls started -- fifty years ago -- the Detroit Lions have won a grand total of one -- count it -- ONE playoff game. They were predictably blown out the following week. This was back in 1992. A guy named Clinton was just getting set to move into the White House. Since then -- nada.
Only hope. The Lions have always been masters at selling the elusive "hope" to their suckers. Either that or, as Caputo put it, the masses just don't know any better any more. They have become accustomed to the floggings -- and like it. How else to explain what would be considered delusional behavior by "normal" people? Sure, they'll complain their team got "jobbed" here and there, but in the end the Lions have never risen above the mediocre level since a guy named Eisenhower was President. Yet incredibly, their Stockholmers keep coming back for more abuse. Higher ticket prices? No problem. They'll be standing in line to shell out the dough. Next year will be THE year. Or for sure the one after that. What's a few more beatings to endure as long as the pot of gold at the end of the historically sadistic rainbow will be mine someday soon, goes their reasoning.
Any sane person would know better. Get me the hell out of this house of horrors, they would likely scream. I can't take the pain and punishment any more. But Lions fans have long since proven themselves to be anything but rational human beings.
After a mirage 11-5 season in 2014, where the Lions had a patsy schedule and caught every break imaginable to make the playoffs -- they thudded back to familiar territory in 2015. They lost to good teams when it mattered, defeated bad ones when it didn't anymore, and wound up 7-9. Just another typical year.
No word yet on whether the owning Ford family will retain head coach Jim Caldwell. Maybe they'll leave it up to their next General Manager. No word yet on the results of their "exhaustive search" to fill that position either. But that's the Ford way. Wait until all the other teams have filled their needs with qualified people, then finally limp in and hire whoever's left. This is exactly how one Jim Caldwell got the head coaching job. He was the last one on the board. Everybody else had passed on him -- so the Lions, in their usual infinite wisdom -- considered him their next "savior". Right.
Thing is, if Caldwell manages to hang onto his job, even HE'S likely smart enough to realize the 2016 season offers yet another chance for the "hope-a-dope" scenario to play out once again. Now that the Lions have put themselves in purgatory again -- a 7-9 record is just good enough to be not terrible, but also knocked them out of the top ten in the draft. All the "immediate impact" players will be gone before the Lions get to choose.
Yet consider the Lions 2016 schedule.
Sure, they have their mandatory home and away games against division rivals Green Bay, Minnesota, and Chicago. That leaves ten more.
At home, the Lions get ---
Philly. They were terrible and fired their head coach Chip Kelly.
The Skins. Yep, they're in the playoffs, but somebody had to win the otherwise terrible NFC East. Few would consider them a formidable opponent.
Jacksonville. The Jags are the Jags. 'Nuff said.
Tennessee. See bottom feeders.
St. Louis. They don't even know where they're going to PLAY next year. Maybe still in golden arch land. Maybe in LA. At any rate, they're another non-playoff team.
On the road, the Lions will face ---
Dallas. Despite all the usual pomp and circus atmosphere, Da Boys appear to be in free fall. Their 4-12 record was the worst in the entire NFC.
NY Giants. Long time head coach Tom Coughlin recently resigned. And at 6-10, the Giants weren't any good anyway. Eli's coming. Eli's going. Star receiver Odell Beckham has begun to show thug qualities, Jason Pierre-Paul is still playing with one hand after blowing off a finger or two fooling around with fireworks, and good luck to the next head coach trying to sort this mess out.
Houston. Yep, they're in the playoffs as well but, like the above mentioned Redskins, somebody had to win the pitiful AFC south division.
Indianapolis. Even worse in the same division. The Colts have become a train wreck. The once highly hyped Andrew Luck has shown he's not "all that" and the once considered gone Chuck Pagano just got a contract extension from owner Jim Irsay. Hard to say who's more clueless.
New Orleans. Is Sean Payton still there? Drew Brees is getting up in geezer land, the Saints defense gave up the most points in the entire NFL, and these guys are going nowhere in the near future.
Add it all up and what do you have? Another patsy schedule for the Detroit Lions in 2016. With a break here and there, they might go 11-5 again. Jim Caldwell will be a GENIUS. The Ford family and whatever toady they hire as their next GM will likely give him a contract extension.
The Motown lunatics will start beating the Super Bowl drums for the 2017 season. Here we come -- again.
Um, excuse me, but haven't we heard this before somewhere? And the last time it worked out was -- well -- it never has.
But in the magical, if deluded, kingdom of Lions fandom, there is always hope. The team is in good hands with Martha, her equally blue-blooded girls, and the family accountant running an NFL franchise. So sayeth the koolaiders and some of the Pollyannish local media that keeps leading them by the nose -- and wallets -- as well.
Suckers. You'd think they'd learn after enough beatings that willingly coming back for more abuse -- and paying big bucks for the "privilege" of even more pain -- does not constitute what is normally considered rational behavior.
Regardless, it takes all kinds of people to make the world go round. Good or bad, it is what it is.
Even Lions fans. Yet to quote the legendary Mr. T. --
I pity the fools.
But as Caputo noted, such would seem to be the case with Lions fans. They've been abused for decades, but there's no other place they'd rather be than bent over and taking another flogging with the promise that tomorrow will be better. Thing is, a rosy tomorrow never seems to come for the Lions.
Well over a half century of futility would seem to be conclusive evidence. The Lions remain the only non-expansion NFL team to have never even made it to a Super Bowl -- let alone won it. Since Super Bowls started -- fifty years ago -- the Detroit Lions have won a grand total of one -- count it -- ONE playoff game. They were predictably blown out the following week. This was back in 1992. A guy named Clinton was just getting set to move into the White House. Since then -- nada.
Only hope. The Lions have always been masters at selling the elusive "hope" to their suckers. Either that or, as Caputo put it, the masses just don't know any better any more. They have become accustomed to the floggings -- and like it. How else to explain what would be considered delusional behavior by "normal" people? Sure, they'll complain their team got "jobbed" here and there, but in the end the Lions have never risen above the mediocre level since a guy named Eisenhower was President. Yet incredibly, their Stockholmers keep coming back for more abuse. Higher ticket prices? No problem. They'll be standing in line to shell out the dough. Next year will be THE year. Or for sure the one after that. What's a few more beatings to endure as long as the pot of gold at the end of the historically sadistic rainbow will be mine someday soon, goes their reasoning.
Any sane person would know better. Get me the hell out of this house of horrors, they would likely scream. I can't take the pain and punishment any more. But Lions fans have long since proven themselves to be anything but rational human beings.
After a mirage 11-5 season in 2014, where the Lions had a patsy schedule and caught every break imaginable to make the playoffs -- they thudded back to familiar territory in 2015. They lost to good teams when it mattered, defeated bad ones when it didn't anymore, and wound up 7-9. Just another typical year.
No word yet on whether the owning Ford family will retain head coach Jim Caldwell. Maybe they'll leave it up to their next General Manager. No word yet on the results of their "exhaustive search" to fill that position either. But that's the Ford way. Wait until all the other teams have filled their needs with qualified people, then finally limp in and hire whoever's left. This is exactly how one Jim Caldwell got the head coaching job. He was the last one on the board. Everybody else had passed on him -- so the Lions, in their usual infinite wisdom -- considered him their next "savior". Right.
Thing is, if Caldwell manages to hang onto his job, even HE'S likely smart enough to realize the 2016 season offers yet another chance for the "hope-a-dope" scenario to play out once again. Now that the Lions have put themselves in purgatory again -- a 7-9 record is just good enough to be not terrible, but also knocked them out of the top ten in the draft. All the "immediate impact" players will be gone before the Lions get to choose.
Yet consider the Lions 2016 schedule.
Sure, they have their mandatory home and away games against division rivals Green Bay, Minnesota, and Chicago. That leaves ten more.
At home, the Lions get ---
Philly. They were terrible and fired their head coach Chip Kelly.
The Skins. Yep, they're in the playoffs, but somebody had to win the otherwise terrible NFC East. Few would consider them a formidable opponent.
Jacksonville. The Jags are the Jags. 'Nuff said.
Tennessee. See bottom feeders.
St. Louis. They don't even know where they're going to PLAY next year. Maybe still in golden arch land. Maybe in LA. At any rate, they're another non-playoff team.
On the road, the Lions will face ---
Dallas. Despite all the usual pomp and circus atmosphere, Da Boys appear to be in free fall. Their 4-12 record was the worst in the entire NFC.
NY Giants. Long time head coach Tom Coughlin recently resigned. And at 6-10, the Giants weren't any good anyway. Eli's coming. Eli's going. Star receiver Odell Beckham has begun to show thug qualities, Jason Pierre-Paul is still playing with one hand after blowing off a finger or two fooling around with fireworks, and good luck to the next head coach trying to sort this mess out.
Houston. Yep, they're in the playoffs as well but, like the above mentioned Redskins, somebody had to win the pitiful AFC south division.
Indianapolis. Even worse in the same division. The Colts have become a train wreck. The once highly hyped Andrew Luck has shown he's not "all that" and the once considered gone Chuck Pagano just got a contract extension from owner Jim Irsay. Hard to say who's more clueless.
New Orleans. Is Sean Payton still there? Drew Brees is getting up in geezer land, the Saints defense gave up the most points in the entire NFL, and these guys are going nowhere in the near future.
Add it all up and what do you have? Another patsy schedule for the Detroit Lions in 2016. With a break here and there, they might go 11-5 again. Jim Caldwell will be a GENIUS. The Ford family and whatever toady they hire as their next GM will likely give him a contract extension.
The Motown lunatics will start beating the Super Bowl drums for the 2017 season. Here we come -- again.
Um, excuse me, but haven't we heard this before somewhere? And the last time it worked out was -- well -- it never has.
But in the magical, if deluded, kingdom of Lions fandom, there is always hope. The team is in good hands with Martha, her equally blue-blooded girls, and the family accountant running an NFL franchise. So sayeth the koolaiders and some of the Pollyannish local media that keeps leading them by the nose -- and wallets -- as well.
Suckers. You'd think they'd learn after enough beatings that willingly coming back for more abuse -- and paying big bucks for the "privilege" of even more pain -- does not constitute what is normally considered rational behavior.
Regardless, it takes all kinds of people to make the world go round. Good or bad, it is what it is.
Even Lions fans. Yet to quote the legendary Mr. T. --
I pity the fools.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Jim Caldwell and Josey Wales
The Outlaw Josey Wales remains one of my favorite all-time movies. So many classic scenes and lines. But one in particular comes to mind. That was when our hero Josey rode out to meet with the Commanche chief Ten Bears. It's also eerily similar to what Detroit Lions' head coach Jim Caldwell went through a a while back. Consider:
Ten Bears told Josey he had heard of him. The grey rider that would not surrender to the blue coats. He could go in peace.
A couple years ago, the Lions front office probably said much the same to Jim Caldwell. We have heard of you. You were fired by the blue coats in Indianapolis and what, pray tell, brings you here?
Josey replied, "I reckon not. (spit). Ain't got no place to go. I came to live with you -- or die with you".
Caldwell, after having seen all the other head coaching vacancies around the NFL already filled at the time, probably said something similar to William Clay Ford -- then chief of the Lions. "Ain't got no other place to go either. When a man has butchered everything else as a head coach elsewhere, Detroit is the last stop. I can go in peace, or you can give me life -- and a few million bucks a year to coach this rag-tag team that loose cannon Schwartz left in his wake".
After some terse discussion, Ten Bears (surrounded by his tribesmen) told Josey there was "iron" in his words. Given the choice of life and death -- it would be life. As long as he and his clan behaved themselves. Josey further vowed the sign of the Commanche would be on their lodge.
After some short negotiations, the Lions' brain trust -- excuse the oxymoron -- (surrounded by lawyers and bean counters) told Jimbo he had himself a job. As long as he and his team could win a few games. Caldwell further vowed to try his best and sign all of his paychecks.
As we know, Josey Wales moved into a house built by a dead guy (he had lost his life in the "Great War"), had his way with the pretty girl, and eventually killed the bad guy (Red Legs) that sent him into his vengeful mode in the first place. Last we see, Josey Wales is dripping blood and off to live in the middle of nowhere with a dysfunctional clan that would put the Kardashians to shame -- but he's happy.
As we also know, Jim Caldwell enjoyed some modest success in his rookie year as the Lions' head coach. 11-5. Never mind the patsy schedule and catching every break imaginable along the way to get to the playoffs, where the Lions were quickly bounced. JC was happy. Lions fans were delirious with joy -- aided by the usual koolaid chugging of course. Last we saw, surely the Super Bowl was on the horizon.
The Outlaw Josey Wales was a movie made a long time ago. It was pure fiction. Clint Eastwood would go on to star in and/or produce many more blockbuster movies.
The Lions go back even further. They haven't won squat since a guy named Eisenhower was President. A full ten years before the Super Bowl came into existence. The 50th Super Bowl is a month away, and the Lions are no closer now to getting there than they were in the 60s,70s,80s,90s, 00s, etc. Since they bought the team, the owning Ford family has gone on to produce entire generations of inept front office personnel, a parade of clown coaches, and Keystone Koppish player performances that are the delight of late night comedians and their punchlines. Unlike the movie, this is all factual. A regular documentary of how NOT to run a professional sports franchise. When it came to busters, the Lions have been the biggest ones on the NFL block for well over half a century.
Chances are, there will never be a sequel to The Outlaw Josey Wales. Clint's getting up in years these days, and some other younger actor likely couldn't recapture the viewing audience like the alter ego of Rowdy Yates/Dirty Harry Callihan once did.
But Jim Caldwell might just have fell into a bed of roses. After the Lions stunk it up at the beginning of the year to the tune of a 1-7 record, president Tom Lewand and general manager Martin Mayhew were fired. Amazingly, Caldwell survived the purge. The Lions would go on to win 5 of their next 7 games. Sure, they were already hopelessly out of the playoff picture, and Caldwell's future, even with the bumbling Ford family, was uncertain.
Methinks it all boiled down to the last game against the Bears. Lose it, and Caldwell's fate was likely sealed with the Lions. He was gone.
But against the equally hapless Bears in Chicago, the Lions pulled out a narrow victory. Ninety year old Martha Firestone Ford and her equally football genius daughters may have been appeased.
Like Ten Bears once said to Josey Wales, perhaps Martha and her brood has decided the same for Jim Caldwell.
"It shall be life".
Or at least until they hire a new general manager. He/she may may be of a totally different opinion. They may only accept the job on the condition they get to bring in their own coaching crew. And let's face it. It's already been several weeks and you haven't heard anything about qualified people getting in line to apply for such a job. Detroit is where general managers and head coaches go to die. Once they've cycled through Motown, they will never again be considered elsewhere for similar employment by another team.
Even better for Caldwell? If he survives, next year bodes even better. In 2015 the Lions had to face some tough teams. As once again losers -- what else is new? -- the NFL has returned them to patsy land in 2016.
A look at their watered down schedule -- next time.
Ten Bears told Josey he had heard of him. The grey rider that would not surrender to the blue coats. He could go in peace.
A couple years ago, the Lions front office probably said much the same to Jim Caldwell. We have heard of you. You were fired by the blue coats in Indianapolis and what, pray tell, brings you here?
Josey replied, "I reckon not. (spit). Ain't got no place to go. I came to live with you -- or die with you".
Caldwell, after having seen all the other head coaching vacancies around the NFL already filled at the time, probably said something similar to William Clay Ford -- then chief of the Lions. "Ain't got no other place to go either. When a man has butchered everything else as a head coach elsewhere, Detroit is the last stop. I can go in peace, or you can give me life -- and a few million bucks a year to coach this rag-tag team that loose cannon Schwartz left in his wake".
After some terse discussion, Ten Bears (surrounded by his tribesmen) told Josey there was "iron" in his words. Given the choice of life and death -- it would be life. As long as he and his clan behaved themselves. Josey further vowed the sign of the Commanche would be on their lodge.
After some short negotiations, the Lions' brain trust -- excuse the oxymoron -- (surrounded by lawyers and bean counters) told Jimbo he had himself a job. As long as he and his team could win a few games. Caldwell further vowed to try his best and sign all of his paychecks.
As we know, Josey Wales moved into a house built by a dead guy (he had lost his life in the "Great War"), had his way with the pretty girl, and eventually killed the bad guy (Red Legs) that sent him into his vengeful mode in the first place. Last we see, Josey Wales is dripping blood and off to live in the middle of nowhere with a dysfunctional clan that would put the Kardashians to shame -- but he's happy.
As we also know, Jim Caldwell enjoyed some modest success in his rookie year as the Lions' head coach. 11-5. Never mind the patsy schedule and catching every break imaginable along the way to get to the playoffs, where the Lions were quickly bounced. JC was happy. Lions fans were delirious with joy -- aided by the usual koolaid chugging of course. Last we saw, surely the Super Bowl was on the horizon.
The Outlaw Josey Wales was a movie made a long time ago. It was pure fiction. Clint Eastwood would go on to star in and/or produce many more blockbuster movies.
The Lions go back even further. They haven't won squat since a guy named Eisenhower was President. A full ten years before the Super Bowl came into existence. The 50th Super Bowl is a month away, and the Lions are no closer now to getting there than they were in the 60s,70s,80s,90s, 00s, etc. Since they bought the team, the owning Ford family has gone on to produce entire generations of inept front office personnel, a parade of clown coaches, and Keystone Koppish player performances that are the delight of late night comedians and their punchlines. Unlike the movie, this is all factual. A regular documentary of how NOT to run a professional sports franchise. When it came to busters, the Lions have been the biggest ones on the NFL block for well over half a century.
Chances are, there will never be a sequel to The Outlaw Josey Wales. Clint's getting up in years these days, and some other younger actor likely couldn't recapture the viewing audience like the alter ego of Rowdy Yates/Dirty Harry Callihan once did.
But Jim Caldwell might just have fell into a bed of roses. After the Lions stunk it up at the beginning of the year to the tune of a 1-7 record, president Tom Lewand and general manager Martin Mayhew were fired. Amazingly, Caldwell survived the purge. The Lions would go on to win 5 of their next 7 games. Sure, they were already hopelessly out of the playoff picture, and Caldwell's future, even with the bumbling Ford family, was uncertain.
Methinks it all boiled down to the last game against the Bears. Lose it, and Caldwell's fate was likely sealed with the Lions. He was gone.
But against the equally hapless Bears in Chicago, the Lions pulled out a narrow victory. Ninety year old Martha Firestone Ford and her equally football genius daughters may have been appeased.
Like Ten Bears once said to Josey Wales, perhaps Martha and her brood has decided the same for Jim Caldwell.
"It shall be life".
Or at least until they hire a new general manager. He/she may may be of a totally different opinion. They may only accept the job on the condition they get to bring in their own coaching crew. And let's face it. It's already been several weeks and you haven't heard anything about qualified people getting in line to apply for such a job. Detroit is where general managers and head coaches go to die. Once they've cycled through Motown, they will never again be considered elsewhere for similar employment by another team.
Even better for Caldwell? If he survives, next year bodes even better. In 2015 the Lions had to face some tough teams. As once again losers -- what else is new? -- the NFL has returned them to patsy land in 2016.
A look at their watered down schedule -- next time.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Revenge of the Frogs
Yours truly has never set foot on the TCU (Texas Christian) campus, but I've always rooted for their football team from afar. How can you not like a school that calls itself the Horned Frogs?
For years -- decades -- they were doormats. But in recent times they've become quite good. Perhaps not a perennially elite team such as Alabama or Ohio State, but right up there with the second-tier squads like Stanford, Michigan State, and Notre Dame. That in itself is very lofty company considering how terrible the Horned Frogs were for so long. They are pushovers no more. Much credit to their administration, coaches, and certainly the players for the amazing turnaround of late. Though many still look for ways to discount them, TCU is regularly a top 20 -- even top 10 team.
A bowl game against another worthy opponent is a given for TCU any more. Granted, the sheer quantity of bowl games has become ridiculous (see TV and marketing cha-chings) -- a team has to be pretty bad to NOT make one somewhere -- but we'll normally see TCU in a "respectable" post-season contest.
And so it came to pass. TCU would take on Oregon in the Alamo Bowl. Not a whole lot was at stake, other than winning a trophy and ending the season with a win. All eyes these days are on the Final Four. Make that the final two. Bama and Clemson.
For a while, actually the entire first half, the Ducks ran TCU out of the stadium, building a 31-0 lead. Alas, the Frogs had croaked. Or had they?
In the second half, the exact opposite happened. TCU shut out Oregon by the same 31-0 tally. At the end of regulation, the game was tied. This was the largest comeback ever in a bowl game. Did the Ducks quack their way into complacency? Run out of gas? It's hard to believe halftime adjustments by TCU would make a 31 point difference. But somehow it did.
By that point, with the game being played in San Antonio, which is a whole lot closer to the TCU campus in Fort Worth, Texas, than that of Oregon in Eugene, there was no doubt who the crowd wanted to see win. The same could likely be said of TV viewers around the country and beyond. Little private college TCU had come back from a 31 point deficit against Enormous U from the great northwest to take the game into overtime? Oh my.
But overtime wouldn't decide it. Nor would the next overtime. Both teams traded scores. Finally, in triple overtime, TCU scored yet again and held back Oregon on their last gasp chance to tie.
A 47-41 victory was officially in the books. All the hail the Horned Frogs. 2016 champions of the Alamo. Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie would have been proud.
It's not always easy being a Frog fan. But hey, they were playing the Ducks -- right? One eats those pesky mosquitoes and flies and the other poops in your back yard. This was a no-brainer.
I knew they could ribbit their way to victory eventually. It was just a matter of keeping the faith.
For years -- decades -- they were doormats. But in recent times they've become quite good. Perhaps not a perennially elite team such as Alabama or Ohio State, but right up there with the second-tier squads like Stanford, Michigan State, and Notre Dame. That in itself is very lofty company considering how terrible the Horned Frogs were for so long. They are pushovers no more. Much credit to their administration, coaches, and certainly the players for the amazing turnaround of late. Though many still look for ways to discount them, TCU is regularly a top 20 -- even top 10 team.
A bowl game against another worthy opponent is a given for TCU any more. Granted, the sheer quantity of bowl games has become ridiculous (see TV and marketing cha-chings) -- a team has to be pretty bad to NOT make one somewhere -- but we'll normally see TCU in a "respectable" post-season contest.
And so it came to pass. TCU would take on Oregon in the Alamo Bowl. Not a whole lot was at stake, other than winning a trophy and ending the season with a win. All eyes these days are on the Final Four. Make that the final two. Bama and Clemson.
For a while, actually the entire first half, the Ducks ran TCU out of the stadium, building a 31-0 lead. Alas, the Frogs had croaked. Or had they?
In the second half, the exact opposite happened. TCU shut out Oregon by the same 31-0 tally. At the end of regulation, the game was tied. This was the largest comeback ever in a bowl game. Did the Ducks quack their way into complacency? Run out of gas? It's hard to believe halftime adjustments by TCU would make a 31 point difference. But somehow it did.
By that point, with the game being played in San Antonio, which is a whole lot closer to the TCU campus in Fort Worth, Texas, than that of Oregon in Eugene, there was no doubt who the crowd wanted to see win. The same could likely be said of TV viewers around the country and beyond. Little private college TCU had come back from a 31 point deficit against Enormous U from the great northwest to take the game into overtime? Oh my.
But overtime wouldn't decide it. Nor would the next overtime. Both teams traded scores. Finally, in triple overtime, TCU scored yet again and held back Oregon on their last gasp chance to tie.
A 47-41 victory was officially in the books. All the hail the Horned Frogs. 2016 champions of the Alamo. Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie would have been proud.
It's not always easy being a Frog fan. But hey, they were playing the Ducks -- right? One eats those pesky mosquitoes and flies and the other poops in your back yard. This was a no-brainer.
I knew they could ribbit their way to victory eventually. It was just a matter of keeping the faith.
Friday, January 1, 2016
Big 10 bowl action
With apologies to Clint Eastwood, Lee VanCleef, and Eli Wallach, the Big 10 bowl games this year could rightfully be described as the good, the bad, and the ugly.
The good.
The Michigan Wolverettes feasted on Florida Gator meat. 41-7 is a beatdown, no matter how you look at it.
Ohio State's Buckwheats trashed the leprechauns of Notre Dame 44-28. As has been said before in this space, the REAL Notre Dame is a cathedral in Paris. Last time I looked, that was still in France. So how did it come to be the clowns in South Bend claim (fighting) Irish ancestry? And for crying out loud, stop changing the school colors every 5 minutes. Are they blue? Green? Whatever other color might come out of a box of Lucky Charms? Pick one and stick with it already.
For two teams that never even made it to the Big 10 conference championship game, UM and OSU put on dominating performances in their respective bowl games.
The bad.
The wannabe Pope collective from Stanford performed a brutal exorcism on the Iowa Pigeoneyes. 45-16 not only dispatched the demons, but pretty much cremated the mortal remains of the team from corn country.
Northwestern vs Tenn was supposed to be a good match up. It wasn't. The good ole boys from Jack Daniels land were more than happy to volunteer to stomp on those nerdy Polecat varmints from the Chicago burbs. 45-6? Really? And somewhere NW alum Michael Wilbon cringed. He knows that Schlomo Kornkeister, his partner on the daily sports yappy head show, is likely polishing up his 1,539,768th infinitely juvenile "Uranus" one-liner with Mikey's alma mater as the punchline. This, from a guy that went to college at Binghamton, never played a game, and majored in English. It's good to know he at least has a rudimentary understanding of the language.
Come to think of it --- Wasn't there a Captain Binghamton on McHale's Navy that came across as a babbling fool and was called "Leadbottom" behind his back? Could it be the original Leadbottom got a serious makeover and turned up on the 4-letter network years later? Stranger things have happened. There's the K girls, and Caitlyn, and even Detroit Lions' fans still thinking they're going to win a Super Bowl every year. Very strange indeed, but I digress.
What seems odd in the Big 10 scheme of things is that the also-rans (UM and OSU) in the conference posted huge victories in their bowl games. Michigan State defeated both these teams during the regular season. Iowa went undefeated until narrowly losing to MSU in the conference championship.
This was supposed to be the cream of the Big 10 crop. Iowa's beatdown at the hands of Stanford in the Rose Bowl was embarrassing.
But the absolute annihilation the Bamarama red rubes visited on the Michigan State Fartans in the Cotton Bowl?
38-0 doesn't begin to do such a lop-sided rout justice. It could, and likely should have been 100-0.
And that's just ugly......
The good.
The Michigan Wolverettes feasted on Florida Gator meat. 41-7 is a beatdown, no matter how you look at it.
Ohio State's Buckwheats trashed the leprechauns of Notre Dame 44-28. As has been said before in this space, the REAL Notre Dame is a cathedral in Paris. Last time I looked, that was still in France. So how did it come to be the clowns in South Bend claim (fighting) Irish ancestry? And for crying out loud, stop changing the school colors every 5 minutes. Are they blue? Green? Whatever other color might come out of a box of Lucky Charms? Pick one and stick with it already.
For two teams that never even made it to the Big 10 conference championship game, UM and OSU put on dominating performances in their respective bowl games.
The bad.
The wannabe Pope collective from Stanford performed a brutal exorcism on the Iowa Pigeoneyes. 45-16 not only dispatched the demons, but pretty much cremated the mortal remains of the team from corn country.
Northwestern vs Tenn was supposed to be a good match up. It wasn't. The good ole boys from Jack Daniels land were more than happy to volunteer to stomp on those nerdy Polecat varmints from the Chicago burbs. 45-6? Really? And somewhere NW alum Michael Wilbon cringed. He knows that Schlomo Kornkeister, his partner on the daily sports yappy head show, is likely polishing up his 1,539,768th infinitely juvenile "Uranus" one-liner with Mikey's alma mater as the punchline. This, from a guy that went to college at Binghamton, never played a game, and majored in English. It's good to know he at least has a rudimentary understanding of the language.
Come to think of it --- Wasn't there a Captain Binghamton on McHale's Navy that came across as a babbling fool and was called "Leadbottom" behind his back? Could it be the original Leadbottom got a serious makeover and turned up on the 4-letter network years later? Stranger things have happened. There's the K girls, and Caitlyn, and even Detroit Lions' fans still thinking they're going to win a Super Bowl every year. Very strange indeed, but I digress.
What seems odd in the Big 10 scheme of things is that the also-rans (UM and OSU) in the conference posted huge victories in their bowl games. Michigan State defeated both these teams during the regular season. Iowa went undefeated until narrowly losing to MSU in the conference championship.
This was supposed to be the cream of the Big 10 crop. Iowa's beatdown at the hands of Stanford in the Rose Bowl was embarrassing.
But the absolute annihilation the Bamarama red rubes visited on the Michigan State Fartans in the Cotton Bowl?
38-0 doesn't begin to do such a lop-sided rout justice. It could, and likely should have been 100-0.
And that's just ugly......
Happy New Year!!!
In America, this is a big deal. Lots of football games to watch, hockey and basketball action, hangovers to suffer through, and the jails are chock full of drunk drivers that got hauled in the night before. The authorities are more than happy to ring in 2016 with the major cha-chings they will extract from these poor souls in the name of "safety". If their main objective was to keep people safe, then why not have them park their vehicle and give them a ride home? Who's kidding who? It's about the money. Always has been.
I read where people had been advised to welcome in the new year by ringing bells, rather than firing gunshots into the air as in the past. That would seem to make sense. Have you seen the price of ammunition lately? A certain chief of police even said a bullet fired up must come down eventually somewhere and could hit somebody really hard on their head. This guy is obviously a GENIUS in the world of physics. Nevermind all the deliberate drive-by shootings that continue to go on in his town, he's worried about the one in a billion chance of a stray bullet falling from the sky once a year and doing someone harm. As always, be afraid -- very afraid. Right.
Your truly doesn't know if other countries celebrate a New Year on this date. Da/nyet? Ja/nein? Oui/non? Or in the Canadian -- Yah/no way hoser? Beats me.
But a happy day to one and all, whoever and wherever you are.
I read where people had been advised to welcome in the new year by ringing bells, rather than firing gunshots into the air as in the past. That would seem to make sense. Have you seen the price of ammunition lately? A certain chief of police even said a bullet fired up must come down eventually somewhere and could hit somebody really hard on their head. This guy is obviously a GENIUS in the world of physics. Nevermind all the deliberate drive-by shootings that continue to go on in his town, he's worried about the one in a billion chance of a stray bullet falling from the sky once a year and doing someone harm. As always, be afraid -- very afraid. Right.
Your truly doesn't know if other countries celebrate a New Year on this date. Da/nyet? Ja/nein? Oui/non? Or in the Canadian -- Yah/no way hoser? Beats me.
But a happy day to one and all, whoever and wherever you are.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)